Connie Smith
Country Weekly, September 14, 2015
Dolly Parton, who knows a thing or two about singing, insisted in an interview years ago that “there’s really only three female singers in the world: Streisand, Ronstadt and Connie Smith.”
One can draw several conclusions from this assertion. One would be that Dolly’s world might be a lot smaller than ours. Or that every other singing woman on the planet is a disappointment. Having spent a little time with Dolly, I can attest that neither assumption is correct.
So the point obviously is that the performances of these ladies touch her as do few others. More significantly, I think, especially in those parts of the planet that haven’t surrendered to the temptations of country music, Connie Smith’s inclusion is an eyebrow raiser.
Everybody I know has heard or at least heard of Barbra Streisand and Linda Ronstadt. Smith’s name isn’t quite so universally hailed. If you live somewhere beyond the outskirts of Nashville, or if you’re not a devotee of the Grand Ole Opry, her name might be unfamiliar. Nobody in the country music industry finds this surprising, though. Her plaque at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, which inducted her in 2012, notes that “her occasional reluctance to embrace celebrity marks her career almost as much as her inimitable talents.”
Those in the know, though, get it: Connie Smith is as good as Dolly says she is. Fans going back to 1963, when her debut single “Once a Day” lodged at the top of the Billboard charts for eight weeks and earned her a Grammy nomination. Despite her ambivalence about prioritizing fame over family, she maintains her position near the top of country song stylists.
Having worked for awhile at the Country Music Association, I was somewhat familiar with Connie’s story when Country Weekly asked me to write up a story marking her fiftieth year as a member of the Grand Ole Opry. An appointment was made for her to meet her at the warehouse that she and her husband Marty Stuart used for storage. I found it in a dreary strip mall somewhere on the outskirts of town. Past the laundromat, the barber shop, the gas station and so on, I followed directions to a gray metallic door, pushed the buzzer button and a minute later was welcomed into a wonderland of memorabilia: stage costumes, concert posters, guitars, volumes of Marty’s superb photos of fellow country stars and Native Americans. Its stunning effect reminded me of when Dorothy passed from black-and-white Kansas into the dazzling palettes of Oz.
After a minute, Connie came out, smiling as if she were welcoming a long-lost relative. We wound past racks of clothing to a small room, sparsely furnished. The moment we began talking, it became clear to me why Stuart, at age eleven, saw Smith onstage in Philadelphia, Mississippi. The serious young lad confided to his mother that someday, he would take the glamorous 28-year-old star as his bride. In 1997, in a Lakota ceremony in Pine Ridge, South Dakota, that’s just what he did.
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How did you first hear you were about to be inducted into the Opry?
I honestly don't remember. I remember the first night I was on the Opry. I remember the night I was inducted. But I don't remember them talking to me about being in the Opry, because it wasn't the same way it is now, where they ask you onstage.
So it might be a letter or a meeting …
I wish I could tell you.
What was it like the day before your induction?
I just remember the night of my induction. I was inducted the same night Bob Lumen was inducted. I thought that was big because I was such a Bob Lumen fan. He was such a dynamic entertainer! He'd come in and just set the house on fire. So I thought it was great I got to join the same night he did.
How were you inducted?
I think they just introduced me as the newest member because they'd already done that. There wasn't that many Opry members then.
You announced at the age of five that you were going to become an Opry member. So this must have been one of the highlights of your career.
Oh, yes. I think when I said it when I was 5, I didn't really mean it. Everybody had to have a dream, and it was my dream. I didn't know it was going to come true. I don't know that I aimed for it or anything. I was just supposed to do it, I reckon.
Well, the first big highlight was actually the night I came down to sing at the Ernest Tubb Record Shop -- March the 28th, 1964. That was the first time I ever came to Nashville. Bill Anderson had invited me down. I got to meet Kitty Wells that night. I sat on a Coke machine and watched Johnny Phillips's little boy while Johnny was singing with the Kitty Wells Show. I thought that was awesome! I went home very famous because I got to watch Del Phillips's little boy while he sang with Kitty Wells [laughs].
But the night I sang on the Ernest Tubb Record Shop, he introduced me. I met Grant Turner [longtime host of the Grand Ole Opry radio show]. And then this guy came up and said, "My wife wants to meet you." He took me backstage at that record shop and I got to meet Loretta. And she is my all-time favorite girl singer. That was a big, big thrill.
Raised on Radio
What was it like to listen to the Opry as you were growing up?
Well, sometimes you couldn't get it. Back then it was battery radios, and we lived in West Virginia, with all the hills and mountains. But any time we could get it, we would always gather around the radio and listen to the Grand Ole Opry. I loved listening to the Record Shop. The Louvin Brothers were my favorites on the Opry at that time, when I was little.
Radio meant something different in those days than it does now.
It was such an important connection to the world. I loved listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Brook Benton and Dinah Washington and Frank Sinatra -- all those great singers. I like anything that good. When I hear the Louvin Brothers' harmony or Ray Price when he used to have all the fiddles -- although I love both of Ray Price's careers, the real country one and also the one where he had all the violins because that was Ray and that was his growth, the way he went. It was all really Ray. I mean, I was driving down Briley Parkway the day I first heard George Jones singing "Cold, Hard Truth." I just rolled down my windows and I hollered out loud, "Country music, folks! This is it, right here!" It was just so awesome. That's the part that touches my heart. But I also love Whitney Houston.
You heard things in all of these singers that you could put into country music.
I probably did, because you glean from everything. I was talking to Jimmy C. Newman several years ago. He was asking if I listened to his music. I said, yes, I did. If you listen to his music and you listen to my singing, you can tell the influence Jimmy C. Newman had on me -- the way he bends his notes. And I was one of the lucky ones. I got to hear the purity of Jean Shepard's singing. I loved Kitty Wells's pure singing. I loved the freedom of Mahalia Jackson's singing. If she wanted to take a breath in the middle of a word, she did. I love anything that's good, especially the pure stuff.
“I don’t want singing to be something I just do. I want to mean it.”
What does singing mean to you?
It's my way of communing with people. My communication technique is to sing. I was real bashful as a kid. Matter of fact, when I was really little, if somebody heard me sing, I'd run and hide under the bed because I'd be so embarrassed -- even if Mom and Daddy heard me sing, at first. But that was the way that I was able to express how I felt. My heart was coming out when I was singing. Sometimes I get onto myself now because I don't want it to be mundane. I'll stand beside the stage time after time and say, "God, help me go out there and be real." I don’t want singing to be something I just do. I want to mean it. You can make anything a habit, and I don't want my singing to ever become a habit.
It's a responsibility.
It really is. I turn down so many songs because I don't want to be identified with what the song is saying. I've sung very few songs that I would mind singing anywhere. When I came to town, there was room for a million but only one of each. So many times, unless you sound like the last singer, it's harder to get going, where before, if you did sound like somebody else, they'd shut you out. Like I say, I was one of the very, very fortunate ones to be here when I was.
I would listen to the girls' songs they would play me. Back then, they didn't have any meat in them. I didn't want to do a lot of cheating songs. It was hard to find a song, so I would find the mens' songs, which had so much more strength in them, and change a line or a word or two to where a woman could sing it. It's the nature of the beast that a certain kind of strength comes from a man and another kind of strength comes from a woman. Usually it's emotional strength that comes from a woman and it's this more macho thing that comes from the men. Some women can get away with that. Gretchen Wilson did it great. She's also a very, very fine singer. Anyway, I liked those much better. In that way, they also could not compare me with Patsy Cline or anybody else.
“I worry about the music being forgotten. That’s why I’m still doing what I’m doing – because I care.”
You hear a lot these days about how hard it is for female country singers to get onto the radio. So is the situation roughly the same as it was when you were breaking?
Maybe it's because there are so many female singers now. Back when I was starting, there weren't that many. That maybe made it easier … but it’s harder in a way too because they didn't play us as often. I read or heard something lately about somebody complaining about there being too many girls on the radio. To me, it has nothing to do with girl or guy; it's who's got the best song. When I came to town, it was all about the music. And, "oh, you mean we get paid?" Sometimes I'd forget to pick up my check and I'd get it later in the mail. Then it got to be, well, there is money to be made, and it became the music business. Now, sometimes, it's just business. I worry about the music being forgotten. That’s why I’m still doing what I’m doing – because I care. That's one of the things I love so much about Marty; he cares about the music. Any real artist will care about the music.
The business needs to control what's going on with the business. It's very hard to control creativity. It comes as God gives it. You never know where or when. It may be in the middle of the night that song comes to you. It may be when you're on the plane or in the shower. It comes when it will. It's like Hank Williams said: “Son, I don't write 'em. I just hold the pen.” That's about right.
“The Sweetheart of the Opry”
What was it like the first time you sang on the Opry?
Bill Anderson wanted to introduce me because he's the one that invited me to Nashville. Actually, he wanted to introduce me on the Record Shop because Ernest was supposed to be out of town. But Ernest had a date canceled. So Bill was doing the last show at the Opry. I believe it was Bill that introduced me -- it's been 50 years! The main thing I remember was how scared I was. I've always heard about somebody's knees knocking. I thought that was just a saying, but mine were literally hitting together. And my voice was coming out in gusts; I couldn't control it. When I finished singing, by the time I got to the end of the stage, I was bawling my eyes out.
Do you remember what you sang?
Yeah, I sang a song that Bill Phillips had, called "I Can Stand It As Long As He Can."
Did the Opry have a house band then?
Yes.
Did you rehearse with them before the broadcast?
No, I think we rehearsed before.
When did you know singing would be your profession?
I knew that I loved it. But even when Bill invited me to Nashville to do the Record Shop, I didn't really think that was going to come true. I just love to sing. I had that opportunity and I took it. I don't know how I got that opportunity when a whole lot of other people didn't -- people with great, great voices. But we each have a calling, and I believe that was my calling. And God brought it about.
Do you have any unforgettable nights in mind from your years on the Opry?
One very special night was when I was on Roy Acuff's portion of the show. I was standing by the stage. Of course, Little Jimmy Dickens was such a pro. If he was there, he was watching at the side of the stage. He knew everything that was going on. Anyway, we were both there, standing at the side of the stage. Roy Acuff started doing this song, and the curtain started coming up -- and it got stuck! Now, Jimmy Dickens and I were probably the two shortest people there, but we went out and held up the curtain. Thank goodness Mr. Acuff wasn't that tall either, so we were able to hold up the curtain for him until they could work on it and get it fixed.
Do you remember the first time Roy Acuff called you "the sweetheart of the Grand Ole Opry"?
I can't pinpoint a certain time, but he did that for a long time. It was an honor because I understand that Mr. Acuff used to ask for me to be on his show quite often.
Another thing I remember is that my band and I would go in the back and rehearse what we were going to do on the Opry. Then we'd go out there, and just as I got to the middle of the stage, Mr. Acuff would tell me what to sing. I'd just say, "You're the king," and we'd change in midstream and do the song he wanted us to do. As often as not, he would say, "Sing the song that brought you here." So I'd do "Once a Day."
How did you feel when the Opry moved from the Ryman to the new building? Were folks nostalgic about the Ryman?
Oh, yeah. A lot of us were disappointed because we loved the Ryman so much. But it's just like moving. You think about your all memories you're losing from the old home place. We're very fortunate because in the wintertime we get to go back to the Ryman. And then you realize the good parts of being at the Opry House. It's like home too now -- and it has more room! At the Ryman, we don't have room to rehearse; you just go in and hit it cold, whereas at the Opry House we can go back in the dressing room, run over our songs and be fresh when we go out. Of course, I think the Opry House means more to everybody since the flood. That's a big part of it as well.
Country music has gone in 50 years from a clearly-defined audience to a worldwide phenomenon. Even with all these changes, why has the Opry remained so important?
That's a good question! Sometimes it's confusing because we do have the core and the roots of what was the Grand Ole Opry. Thank God there are still some of us there. It used to be that when us older ones would walk out, those same sparks were there. They still treat us good and they still honor us, but this past weekend I hosted four shows on the weekend and Carrie Underwood was on all four of those shows. I introduced her and it brought back memories of when you could feel the magic in the air. They all knew she was going to be there. She is so famous and so good that when I started talking about this next artist and then I mentioned her name, it explodes. And a few weeks ago Vince Gill was out on the stage. Of course they always love and applaud Vince. But when Vince said there was a lady in town and she just wanted to drop by -- and Trisha Yearwood walked out. Everybody went nuts. And then she said, "Well, I was just here for General Brown's [?] services. I didn't have time to call my band but I did bring a guitar player." And of course when Garth walked out, it exploded double. That was awesome.
They have the benefit of being played on the radio, which the older ones don't have now. It's amazing that we still get the response we do. A big part of it is that my fans now, after 50 years, are "my grandma. When she died, I got all your records." Or "my mother played all your records." So I'm getting the fallout of all the old records I had. I'm getting passed-down fans who are nostalgic because it's a family tradition and a family heritage. The others are because they're currently on the radio. They get the media attention and therefore they get the audiences.
And Carrie, like other superstars, still goes back to this relatively small stage at the Opry. And she's another member of the family.
I mentioned that the other night in my introduction. I said, "This girl is being pulled every which way but loose. And yet she takes time to come here. It means a lot."
Mentors & Memories
When you came into the Opry, Bill Anderson and Roy Acuff were among your mentors. Do you find yourself playing that role now with younger artists?
If they ask, I will. I just mainly love them and welcome them. Being at the Opry that long, our part is to let them know that they are welcome. Even though who they are and what they do is different from who we are and what we do, they're there. They're the new breed. They're the new part of what's called country music now. So I just want them to know they're welcome. Everyone deserves their shot. I learned from who was before me, and they learned from a different group of people that was before them. If I can just be there and do what I do, if they're interested, they can talk to me. But I'm not there to tell them what they're doing wrong or right because, shoot, I don't know either. I'm still learning myself! But I do appreciate them.
I remember the night I met Clint Black and Dwight Yoakam on the same night. I knew they both were stars. And the night I met Keith Urban, I knew that was the best talent we'd had around here in a long time. So there are those that are because they were meant to be.
Clint and Marty are the two best guys at knowing how to stand onstage with a guitar.
And Keith Urban does. I like to stand at the end of the stage and watch too, and I've watched guitar players come out with different bands. And I've thought, "Yep, he's been watching Keith Urban [laughter]." Whether it's their hairdo or the way they're holding a guitar, I think that's great because they're following a great talent.
Your 50th anniversary will be celebrated on Aug. 8. Do you think there might be some surprises in store there?
I never thought about that! Maybe I should! I'm tickled to death that Marty is going to be there. That's the most important thing to me. Of course, they're having a reception from me. Our children will be there. A lot of my friends will be there. A lot of the artists I know that will be there are people I've really admired. It is a big family. I'm looking forward to it. I've been really busy, so I haven't gotten into thinking about it.
This is just the first 50 years.
Yeah … Can't you just see me after the next 50 [laughter]? And hear me [laughter]?
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Thanks. I love all your interviews!
I'm one of those "mama had your records" fans of '60s country, so this was an unexpected delight in my inbox.
Made me wonder who's doing the Opry this week and lo and behold ... Connie and Marty are playing on Friday.
Tempted to book a flight right now.