Authors: Ellis Nassour
Patsy felt awful and complained to Randy, “The way you froze us in that plane only made me worse.” Peebles prepared a place for Patsy to rest between shows but, with so many fans wanting to meet her, she barely got to sit down.
“Patsy and me sat in the dressing room after the second show,” Dottie said. “She was ironing the blouse she had worn with a lace dress her mother made. I said, ‘Why don’t you let me do that and you get some rest? You already have a bad cold, and you know how easily you get tired.’ But Patsy wouldn’t listen. That night she closed the show. I never missed the opportunity to watch Patsy perform, but I didn’t stand in the wings. I went out front and saw the whole set. As usual, Patsy was magnificent. She never gave an audience short shrift. No matter how late it was or if the show was running overtime, she did all her big songs.”
She sang “She’s Got You,” “Heartaches,” “Am I A Fool?” and, from her February sessions, “Sweet Dreams” and “Faded Love.” Then she chatted with the audience.
“I’ve got the flu,” she apologized. “I think I caught it in New Orleans Friday night. It ain’t getting better, so don’t be disappointed if my singing’s not up to par.”
Patsy sang “I Fall to Pieces” and “Crazy.” Marie remembers Patsy pressing
a finger to her right ear when she was reaching for high notes. She closed with her favorite song from the last session, “I’ll Sail My Ship Alone.”
“She had the audience on their feet screaming for more,” Dottie remembered. “I was in this ocean of humanity pouring their heart out to Patsy the same way she’d done for them. She was moved to tears and thanked them. Patsy said how much they meant to her and that she’d be nowhere without them.”
Randy planned to leave immediately, but KCMK-FM was hosting a press party. Peebles told him it was important for all of them to be there. Departure was put off until Monday morning.
MARCH 4
It was bitter cold. Bad news was the omen of the day. There’d been intermittent rain storms throughout the evening. Randy awoke to rain and dark clouds, then he got word that Fairfax Municipal Airport was fogged in and their morning flight would have to be scratched.
During the night, Billy Walker’s phone rang. His dad had had a heart attack. He phoned Hawkins to tell him, “They don’t expect him to live. Randy doesn’t know when we’ll be able to leave and I’ve got to get home as soon as possible. Can I talk you into going back in Randy’s plane and letting me have that airline ticket?”
Hawkins met Walker a few minutes later and gave him the ticket, saying, “Kid, I wouldn’t do this for anybody else. I hope your dad pulls through.”
Patsy was stirring in her room, irritated after Randy’s call informing her of the delay. Her flu was no better. She’d coughed most of the night. She desperately wanted a cigarette but knew it would make her cough worse. Her phone rang.
“Yeah?” It was Dottie. “Hello, Hoss! Cheer me up. Ain’t heard nothing but bad news.”
“This’ll cheer you up. Hap’s going to buy everyone breakfast!”
“Sister, I couldn’t eat a thing.”
“At least come and have coffee.”
Patsy put on a wig and tried to make herself presentable.
“Hap, don’t expect me to be cheery,” she said to Peebles in the coffee shop when he greeted her. “I’m sick as a dog, but when I heard you was buying, I couldn’t miss it.”
Everyone was stunned when Peebles announced that only three thousand dollars had been raised. Dottie recalled someone exclaiming, “It looks like somebody had their hand in the till.” Peebles promised to recheck the proceeds.
Dottie tried to entertain her but could see Patsy’s heart wasn’t in making conversation. “Hon, what’s bothering you?” she asked.
“We can’t take off. The airport’s fogged in! Randy has no idea when we’ll be able to leave. Goddamn! This would happen when I’m in a hurry to get home.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I miss my babies. I haven’t seen them in three days.”
“I know what you mean. I miss my boys.”
“Little Randy’s sick, and I don’t like leaving him for long periods. And I got to get back to take care of that business with the lawyer.”
“If that’s what’s worrying you, why don’t you drive back with Bill and me?”
“You mean it, Dottie?”
“Get your things. We’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes.”
“Let me find Randy and get packing.”
Dottie yelled to her husband, Bill West, “Patsy’s going back with us.”
Bill asked Hawkins if he wanted to return by car. “I do and I don’t,” he replied. “I hate to see Randy and Cowboy go back alone, but if it won’t be too crowded.”
“You can stretch out in front and the girls can have the back,” Bill said.
“You got a deal!” Hawkins went to find Randy.
About ten minutes later, Patsy and Dottie met at the elevator. They got in with their bags and Dottie pushed the button. When the doors opened to the lobby, Patsy leaned over to pick up her suitcase, then suddenly blurted out, “Naw. Forget it. I’ll wait it out with Randy. I think I’ll get home quicker.”
Hawkins arrived in the lobby. “Where’re your bags, Hawk?” asked Bill West.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he replied. “I’m going to wait it out.” He put his arm around West. “Heck, this stuff’s gonna lift and we’ll beat y’all home.” Bill gave him a hug.
Dottie attempted to change Patsy’s mind, but Patsy said she felt a loyalty to Randy.
“I don’t want y’all riding in that small plane in this weather,” Dottie told her. “It might crash.”
“Don’t fret.”
“I can’t help it. I’ll be worried.”
“Hoss, don’t worry about me ’cause when it comes my time to go, I’m going. If that little bird goes down, I guess I’ll go down with it.”
“Sure you won’t change your mind?”
“Sister, you know my mind!”
The two hugged and kissed. “And that’s the way we said our last good-byes,” Dottie sighed.
An hour later, as Peebles left the hotel, he ran into Randy, Patsy, and company loading their luggage. “Where y’all going?” he inquired. “I thought you were grounded.”
Randy said, “It’s starting to clear. We’re going to the field so we can take off as soon as the airport opens.”
They exchanged farewells and drove to the airfield where owner Eddie Fisher apprised Randy of the weather bulletins warning small craft against flying.
“I thought for a minute,” Fisher stated, “he’d attempt to fly in that weather. In the end, he decided against it and they headed back to the hotel.”
As soon as she got into her room, Patsy called home and spoke with four-year-old Julie, who wanted to know when she’d be back. Then she talked with Charlie about little Randy. “Is he any better?”
“He still has a fever,” Charlie told her, “and is crying a lot. He misses his mommy.”
“His mommy misses him, too. We’re going to get out of here as soon as the
weather clears, but no one knows when that’ll be. I’ll let you know what we do. Charlie, if the baby gets any worse, call a doctor.” She ended the conversation as she always did, “Well, I’ll catch you later.”
That night Patsy confronted Randy. “Country music, they keep saying, isn’t a business but something that’s in your blood. That’s a crock of shit! And I’m going to kick the next person who tells me that. I want some time off.”
“After this, you got almost two weeks!”
“I’m talking something longer. I think you remember our previous conversation.”
“Hey, Patsy!”
“No, Randy. It’s my career! Look at me. I’m making the dough and not having a goddamn minute to enjoy any of it. The baby’s home sick and I’m stuck in Kansas City. And you shoulda heard Julie crying on the phone—”
“Are you feeling guilty again?”
“Things just ain’t right.”
“Look at it the other way! At what you’re giving those kids. And tell me how the hell can you lay off when ‘Leavin’ On Your Mind’ is climbing the charts and you’re gonna have two, maybe three singles from the last session. You worry too much. Just let me handle everything.”
“You have been and look at the mess you’ve got us in!”
“Hell, even I can’t predict the weather!”
“Driving home,” Dottie said, “I kept thinking of what Patsy said about if that little bird goes down, she’d be going down with it. It was raining like it would never stop. It was a thick, murky rain. Sometimes Bill and I couldn’t see the tops of the telephone poles. I kept repeating to myself, ‘Now, I hope they don’t get crazy and decide to try to leave in this weather.’ I must have driven Bill insane saying, ‘Honey, you do think they’ll wait, don’t you?’ and ‘I wonder how the weather is back in Kansas City?’
“Even with both of us driving, it took sixteen hours. Bill’s mother was staying with us, taking care of the children. We hardly got in the door good before we said good night. We were exhausted. I lay in bed wondering what time Patsy and Randy had gotten back. I wanted to call but I figured she was sleeping, too.”
MARCH 5
Early that Tuesday Patsy called her mother. “Here I am still in Kansas City. The fog’s cleared but there’re thunderstorms all over the place. Seems every time I stick my neck out, I get my foot into something else.” They discussed the benefit and the pittance raised. “Nobody knows what happened. We worked for nothing but expenses and it looks like the wrong person got helped.”
She told Mrs. Hensley little Randy was having another bronchitis attack and how both children were crying.
“Don’t you go worrying about the kids,” Mrs. Hensley advised.
“Mama, I can’t help it.”
“I know, but Charlie will make sure everything’s fine.”
“Charlie?”
“No matter what, when it comes to the children you can depend on him. He loves them as much as you. I want to know how you are.”
“I think the worst of my flu’s gone. I just want to get out of here. It may not be until this afternoon. If I’d gone with Dottie, I’d be home now. I miss my babies!”
“Don’t y’all take any chances.”
“We won’t, Mama. My next date’s March sixteenth in Baltimore. Just think, eleven whole days to rest and to spend with the kids.”
“You sound like you need it. Now, call me before you leave. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll know you’re still there.”
“Okay. I’ll catch you later.”
Just before noon, the group checked out of the hotel. Back at the airfield, Randy talked on the phone to the weather bureau. “There’d been a clearing in our area,” Fisher reported, “but there was bad weather at Springfield, throughout the river and lake region south of Vichy and along the Mississippi from St. Louis down. But Hughes said to get the plane ready.”
When the group boarded, seating arrangements were discussed. “Patsy, I know the co-pilot’s seat’s always yours,” Randy said, “but Hawk’s too tall for the back.”
“I don’t like it any more than you, honey,” said Hawkins, “’cause the less I see the better I’ll enjoy the flight! But it’s these long legs.”
But they didn’t go anywhere. The plane’s window kept fogging up from moisture from their breath. “Okay, everybody,” Patsy said, laughing, “there’s one way we can make it home. You gotta hold your breath!”
The four went to Fisher’s office, sat and talked. “They were full of life,” he noted. “Nice, down-to-earth people. Hawkins and Copas asked if I had any parachutes. I told them, ‘Yeah, but they’re old, and y’all better not fly into anything where you’ll need one.’”
A half hour later, Randy tried again but it was no go. When the temperature warmed a bit, he tried once more. “This is it!” he yelled. Hawkins phoned Jean Shepard and Randy called Kathy. “We’re on the way,” he told her.
Hughes seemed levelheaded to Fisher. Still, he advised him, “If the weather gets bad, turn around. We don’t want another casualty like the one Sunday. Someone crashed into the side of a bluff between St. Joe and Omaha.”
“I won’t fly into anything bad,” he replied.
“I sure as hell hope not,” Hawkins bellowed.
Randy declared, “If I can’t handle it, I’ll come back and fly west or go someplace else.”
The takeoff at 1:30 P.M. went smoothly. The flight distance to Nashville from Kansas City is five hundred statute miles. The Piper Comanche could clock a hundred and twenty miles an hour.