His death will likely go largely unnoticed, but guitarist Charlie Collins, who was 78 when he died Jan. 12 following a stroke, was the last surviving member of Roy Acuff's legendary Smoky Mountain Boys band. As such, his passing essentially marks the end of an era in country music history—at least as performed at the Grand Ole Opry.
Only a few of Acuff’s contemporaries are still there, most notably 91-year-old Little Jimmy Dickens, an Opry member since 1948, and 84-year-old Ralph Stanley; Acuff, who was 89 when he died in 1992, had joined the Opry in 1938.
The next generation of Opry performers would include those who joined in the '50s, like Jimmy C. Newman (84), Jean Shepard (78) and George Jones (80). But it was Jones himself who asked the musical question “Who’s Gonna Fill Their Shoes"--his No. 3 hit in 1985--its lyrics invoking Acuff's signature song "Wabash Cannonball":
Who's gonna fill their shoes
Who's gonna stand that tall
Who's gonna play the Opry
And the Wabash Cannonball
Who's gonna give their heart and soul
To get to me and you
Lord I wonder, who's gonna fill their shoes.
Who, indeed? There are numerous worthy Opry successors from the 1960s and '70s--Bill Anderson, Connie Smith, Jim Ed Brown among them--who have direct ties to the past and will someday be proud parts of it. There are those Opry members who came later like Alan Jackson, Garth Brooks and Alison Krauss, who have so honorably held up the Opry traditions through 2000.
One of the best of the new country artists, Dierks Bentley, was inducted into The Opry in 2005 and respects that tradition so much he boldly cut a bluegrass album (and toured with venerable Grand Ole Opry member Del McCoury). But leave it to other critics and historians to assess the merits of more recent inductees like Rascal Flatts and Carrie Underwood and answer the question: Do they fill Roy Acuff’s shoes—or even George Jones', for that matter? Or their dressing rooms?
Acuff's dressing room at the Opry House was rightly the nearest to the stage, and the biggest. But what stood out most about it was that the door was always open. Anyone who had backstage access could walk in at any time—and it was so well worth doing.
While other stars might close their doors and hang out amongst themselves, Acuff, even progressively older and physically diminished, was always accessible for all—fellow stars, friends, fans, tourists. But not even the King of Country Music was the big draw in his own dressing room.
For it was pure country music itself that was on display in Acuff’s dressing room, the joy of it, it’s sense of community. While he held court by the door, his band—and players from other bands who were on the bill—were swapping songs and jamming in the back, and much of the time it was a better show than the one to the right a few steps away.
And now, Charlie Collins has rejoined the King in the dressing room in the sky, Lord, in the sky.
Subscribe to my examiner.com pages and follow me on Twitter!
Comments