Honky Tonk Angel (40 page)

“As the tapes played, Patsy’d ask around to me, Teddy [Wilburn], Hank, Jan, and whomever else might be there, ‘Do you think it’s all right?’ We’d say it was fantastic, which it was and which she knew all along. But she’d ask, ‘Do you really think it’s all right?’ Maybe she needed reassuring.”

Bradley surmised, “The success of ‘Crazy’ might have scared Patsy. When I wanted to use strings, she was in a dilemma over whether she was breaking out of the country mold. Patsy’s voice was romantic and had a magnificent, wide range. She could master anything, but she wanted to be a country singer.

“She kept saying, ‘I want to yodel.’ She thought if she did, she’d have one big country hit. I’d cry, ‘Oh, no, Patsy! No more yodeling.’ The next thing you know she was wanting strings. As she progressed as a singer and stylist, Patsy attempted to get deep into her musical roots instead of going along with what everyone thought would sell. She was at the forefront of the innovators, and there weren’t many then.”

Though Patsy loved anything Howard put in front of her, she seemed to have second thoughts about “When I Get Thru with You.” “It was kind of a teenybopper song,” he explained. “The lyrics were aimed at young girls, high school kids—the type of following Patsy had a large sampling of. She recorded the heck out of it, but afterward she was a little embarrassed because it wasn’t your conventional ‘Your Cheatin’ Heart’ kind of country ballad. Owen chose to back it for release with Justin’s ‘Imagine That.’ Patsy’d go on the Opry and plug the A-side but sing Justin’s. I used to get mad at her!

“When we talked about it, Patsy said she felt she might be betraying her country fans. She was quite concerned about not letting them down, and them not putting her down.”

Patsy had complete trust in Bradley. Theirs had developed into a father-daughter relationship. However, she still couldn’t overcome her fears about changing too quickly.

“By fighting her fears,” Jordanaire Ray Walker said, “Patsy put a certain depth in her singing. She found as she cooperated more and more with Owen that there was nothing to fear and nothing to be ashamed of. She could start singing songs that her heart really felt. Patsy sang them with such positive conviction because they were nothing more than a remake of her life.

“Patsy was complex, with a fiery temperament. She even called herself a hellcat! But she neyer used her temper unless there was a reason. If you disagreed with her, you had to put your side of the argument in front of her. She wanted the right answer. She lived in fear of not getting that answer, I feel, because of the downward spiral in her career after making such a splash with ‘Walkin’ After Midnight.’ She didn’t want to lose again.”

On March 3, “She’s Got You” entered the
Billboard
country chart and had already started a slow climb on the magazine’s pop chart. The next weekend, Patsy was on a series of dates in the Northwest and Canada with old friends Jimmy Dean and George Hamilton IV. “Jimmy had a smash with ‘Big Bad John’ and was riding high with ‘P.T. 109,’” Hamilton said, “and Patsy was on her third consecutive hit We worked for Marlin Payne, a Montana promoter, who had a friend drive us from date to date in his limousine. The old gang was reunited.

“Patsy sat on the right, Jimmy on the left, and I rode in the middle. We had a couple of hundred miles to go in blizzard conditions. It was early on a Sunday morning and one of them produced a bottle. There was no mix. They were drinking straight out of the bottle, passing it back and forth across me. Before I knew it, I was sitting between two people who were alternately laughing and crying, and becoming increasingly intoxicated. I had a low tolerance for whiskey so didn’t partake.

“But Patsy would take a drink and start reminiscing, then Jimmy’d take one and start telling a story as only he can. They told about the years in Washington on the ‘Town and Country Jamboree,’ their comings and goings, the good times and the bad. It was sentimental, funny at times, and poignant

“Jimmy had gone his way with the CBS show and split from Connie B. Gay, who was bought out by the network. Patsy was making headlines as the female country innovator of the time. And I had left rock ‘n’ roll behind.”

Patsy kept passing the bottle to Hamilton and finally succeeded in shaming him into joining in. She and Hamilton talked about how they got their big breaks on “Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Scouts,” reminisced about the Jamboree, and told of their families. By early afternoon, they were thoroughly out of it.

“We weren’t stoned or unable to walk,” Hamilton said, “but we were feeling no pain. I was amazed at how well they held their liquor. I was the drunkest. And we had a matinee to do. We were in rare form!”

Patsy was to see a lot of Jimmy Dean. Just after the Northwest and Canada dates, they coheadlined the annual firemen’s benefit in Houston. Backstage to meet Patsy upon arrival was Louise Seger.

“It was like I’d seen her just the other day,” Louise said. “She reached into her travel bag and waved this gorgeous silver fox, saying, ‘Look what I bought in Canada! Ain’t too shabby! I want you to hold it for me while I’m onstage. I don’t
want anyone making off with it.’ Patsy was phenomenal. She did all the hits. When she sang ‘Crazy,’ there was a hush. Afterward, when she took off her wig, even with all the makeup Patsy was wearing, I could see the scars from the wreck. I hated to think what she’d gone through.

“She invited me back to the Montague Hotel with her and Jimmy Dean. We had drinks and I was looking forward to a long conversation with Patsy. But they seemed to have something else in mind. They looked pretty wrapped up in each other. They said good-bye and headed out. Patsy looked back over her shoulder and winked—I’ll never forget it—and said, ‘Keep in touch, Louise.’ I replied, ‘You bet.’”

Randy’s business was booming. His artists were successful, and the commissions were rolling in. Tired of long hauls in the crowded cars of the caravans and having to work around the schedule of commercial airlines, Randy decided to buy a plane. Roy Drusky recommended a pilot friend for flying lessons and was on the lookout for a four-seater plane for him.

In April, after the release of an EP of “She’s Got You,” “Strange,” “The Wayward Wind,” and “I Love You So Much, It Hurts,” Patsy and Dean coheadlined WIRL Radio’s Shower of Stars in Peoria, Illinois. Patsy did an interview with the
Limelight,
a school newspaper. Asked if her life had been affected by her success, she answered, “I never have any time to spend with my family. I’m very nervous due to my automobile accident last year. Many times I have to leave a crowd and take a fifteen-minute rest.”

She spoke of the children and claimed “her two greatest buddies are Jimmy Dean and Ferlin Husky.” Discussing her goal to become a star, she acknowledged, “I’ve gotten more than I asked for. All that I ever wanted was to hear my voice on record and have a song among the top 20.”

Patsy advised teens interested in a show business career, “If you can define in life what you want to do, set your goal and don’t change it. Work toward it and listen, above all, to your parents because you never have but one set. Make them proud and you will achieve your greatest wish in life.”

“When times got good,” Charlie said, “all Patsy talked about was the day she’d build her dream house—a real showplace. One time or another, we must have looked everywhere. Randy told us of a particular house that was just what Patsy wanted—with lots of room and grounds.

“We went cruising around Goodlettsville off Dickerson Pike, a section of Highway 41. We were on Nella Drive in an area overgrown with beautiful trees, searching for the house Randy’d mentioned. Suddenly, Patsy hollered, ‘Charlie, stop the car! Turn around. That’s it, baby!’ I made a quick turn, parked, and we got out. There was this huge house under construction.

“It was red brick, with spanking white shutters, and had this small portico with a laced wrought-iron support. We looked it over, and I could see Patsy was in love with it She traipsed through it. I couldn’t get her to leave. She said kinda aloud to herself, ‘Just goes to show you if you wait long enough, it’ll all come your way. Oh, baby! This is gonna be fantastic!’”

Charlie laughed that the only thing more fantastic than the house was the
price tag. “It was thirty thousand dollars, which was a lot to swallow. But Patsy didn’t care. She said, ‘We can afford it and if we can’t, I’ll get Randy to book me some big dates so we can. Nobody’s gonna deny me my dream house. Let’s take it!’ The lady got her house.”

Patsy had reason to be optimistic. “She’s Got You” reached the number one position on the
Billboard
country chart, as well as on the charts of the other trades and radio stations. It managed an impressive nineteen-week reign. On
Billboard’s
pop chart, the song peaked at number 14 before sliding. It was pop-listed a total of ten weeks. The B-side, “Strange,” made it into the top 100, to number 97. On May 7, Decca released “When I Get Thru with You (You’ll Love Me Too)” c/w “Imagine That.” It didn’t take long for both sides to begin to make noise on the country and pop charts.

The tri-level house sat back off the street, and “within shouting distance of the backyard” there was a rustic farm. Until the housing development started, the area was farm and grazing land. The first floor had huge living and dining rooms, a bedroom, a bath, and a large state-of-the-art kitchen with a serving counter/ cabinet that separated it from an adjoining informal dining nook. The children’s rooms and a guest bedroom were on the second floor.

The basement, which opened onto a stone patio, had a spacious den with a wet bar. Patsy dubbed this the music room. There was an adjacent garage. The lower floors had fireplaces. An intercom system was installed throughout

“Patsy wouldn’t hear of using decorators,” Charlie commented. “Day and night she threw herself into designing every inch. Patsy’s dream house had to be the very best. She could drive a hard bargain. If something wasn’t just so, she wouldn’t have it.” She ordered custom-made furniture, drapes, and carpeting. In most of the house, she wanted an American Heritage touch, so she bought lots of colonial furnishings. She even had a tree brought in.

When the specially designed white satin three-piece sectional arrived, Patsy told Charlie, “Honey, the arm’s in the wrong place here. It’s on the left. I wanted it on the right. Call the store and tell ‘em to come pick it up and make it right.’ When I reminded her how many weeks it took to get, and how many more we’d have to wait, she brushed it off, saying, ‘I don’t care. I paid for it, damn it, and I want it the way I ordered it!’” When it returned, she placed a portrait of herself over it

There was a fancy dining room table that expanded to seat eight and ten. She had a mural painted on a nearby wall. Below it was a solid mahogany credenza. Another table in colonial design was purchased for the kitchen breakfast room. Julie’s room upstairs had a canopied bed and curtains decorated with ballerinas. Little Randy’s room had bunk beds.

For the downstairs master bath, Patsy bought the kind of gold-speckled wallpaper she had seen in a Hollywood movie years before and “sprinkled gold dust all over the place,” Charlie recalled.

George Hamilton IV and his wife, Adelaide, were often at the Goodlettsville furniture store where Patsy shopped. “Adelaide was a friend of the owner,” Hamilton said, “but when we saw what a hard time Patsy was giving the poor man, we didn’t say too much about knowing her. We didn’t want him to hate us! Patsy was very precise in what she ordered, and God help him if the store wasn’t.”

Brenda Lee has vivid impressions of the house. “Whenever Patsy was in town she was a-fussing and a-fixing up. I visited them so often, I felt it was a second home. Some items Patsy bought, like her lamps with the frilly shades, were kitsch, but she wasn’t out to impress anyone. This was her prize. She figured she owed herself something. I used to tease her, ‘Hey, big sister, what did you buy for the house today?’ And she’d tell me! I felt good for her.

“Patsy and Charlie’s bedroom was beige. The centerpiece was this large rug in the shape of a gold record. There was a short half Louis XIV, half Regency-style chest of drawers festooned with acanthus leaves.”

Her closets were filled with sweaters, slacks, dresses, western costumes, boots, spike heels, and slippers, among them her gold lame “chug-a-boots” slippers. In a place of honor were her silver fox stole, a sparkling rhinestone tiara, and several formal gowns. She’d hold the tiara to her head and say, “Introducing the new Queen of Country Music!”

There was a collection of wigs. Since the accident, Patsy hadn’t followed through on the plastic surgery. She began collecting wigs in blonde and brown. She had a beautician style the bangs to help hide her forehead scars.

“Of course,” said Brenda, “if nothing was too good for that house, that went double for those kids. They had to feel special. Patsy’d say, ‘They’re all I’m working my butt off for anyway.’ Their rooms were really lovely and crammed full of toys and, for Julie, precious dresses. I watched Patsy play with the kids and admired how she doted on them.