Jeanne (Smith) Simington
From:
Oregon, USA
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Posted 4 Jul 2024 7:41 am |
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I don’t know where to start to explain my interest in this organization. Thanks to the worldwide web and Google, I feel like I have discovered a “connection” that I never dreamed was possible. Aging, few living relatives to corroborate my memories, and recollections may not be as factual or chronological as I would like.
I’ll start by saying Dave Allen (born David Alonzo Smith, May 19, 1938) was my brother. He was born in Belvidere, Illinois, and...yes, we lived in Coalinga, California where both our parents are buried. Dave never liked his middle name, but decided when he was touring in Viet Nam with the Donnie James Nashville Viet Nam group, his “stage name” should be Dave Allen. Dave died in Tulare, CA in 1987, just shy of his 50th birthday. He was the fifth of seven children and our youngest brother, Mike (80, now living in Reno) and I (nearly 85, living in Grants Pass, Oregon)are the only surviving siblings.
We were kids (Dave was 9-10 years old) in Robstown, Texas, when a door-to-door salesman convinced my mother Dave could learn to play a Hawaiian guitar, for something like two dollars a month, and would include lessons AND a basic wooden guitar...just sign on the dotted line. Mother saved her waitressing tips to make the payments. I believe the salesman stuck around town for a few months before he moved on to another small town who might have aspiring and vulnerable prospects. Of course, the first recognizable song from his guitar was “Aloha Oe” and he advanced to “Bicycle Built for Two” before his teacher left town and there was no one left to take him further.
We moved to Victoria, Texas, in 1950, and I almost lost my best friend to his passion for music. David Smith was forever a captive of this siren. No more playtime...just music...we sang and he “picked” out the melodies of every song we could think of, eventually singing to those songs we heard and memorized on the radio. Our lives revolved around his music, eventually enlisting Mike (we calledhim Skip) who started with a child’s ukulele and graduated to a Kay full-size guitar almost as big as hewas, and me, on small accordion (12 bass), and on to a beautiful Italian (Frontalini 120-bass). You can be sure not all music we produced was perfect, but Dave would persist until we made respectable sounds which would get us invited to play for church suppers, clubs, schools, radio (both KVIC andKNAL).I must mention here, that Skip could belt out Hank Williams’ current hits and was billed as LITTLESKIPPY – The 7-year old Wonder Boy advertised in the Victoria Advocate under Entertainment, drewcrowds from far and wide. Our “novelty” was second to the genuine good times we presented with our music.
Dave’s talent was so identifiable even then, that local bands were knocking at our door to get him toplay local venues with them– in bars, dance halls, rodeos, honky-tonks...anywhere in South Texas Dadcould travel to be with him as a responsible adult in addition to Dad’s full-time work. Norman and Frank Miller were pretty prominent and allowed Dave and another newcomer, Danny Ellis, to showcase their talents. A young fella from Shreveport, Louisiana, Eddie Thibedeaux, debuted with theFrank Miller band, also. Eventually, we formed our own family band (The Harmony Ramblers) with Dad pounding the ivories as he pounded the floor with his foot to assure we kept the beat, and performed in many of the venues the “pros” would pass up. Danny Ellis, singer and guitarist, joined us for awhile, as did Eddie Thibedeaux, who could thrill the local Cajun audiences with his patois of Cajun French. Somewhere along the way, Jimmy Placker joined us, playing acceptable fiddle. Our repertoire extended beyond “western” to Cajun, Bohemian German, and included popular and traditional music. At dance halls, our audiences ranged from babies sleeping on benches, while theirfolks danced and slipped outside for drinks, to oldsters who could still “cut the mustard” to a rousingpolka or a sweeping waltz. Schottische dances showed off dancers’ footwork; the night always endedwith a sacred song. With or without “outside” musicians, we performed.
Not many wanted to keep the rigid “practice” sessions at our home...no less than three nights a week...between gigs. Also, our car was filled with the five of us (Mother always accompanied us), so the extras had to arrange their own transportation. They could seem to get to the gigs where they might earn a couple bucks...no pay for rehearsals...and we didn’t need “guest stars!”
We continued to “do our music thing” as we moved to Arkansas, and eventually to California (lured there by a flim-flam man, a “talent agent” who was nowhere to be found once Dad paid him his last feeas we were getting closer to Coalinga, California. I believe that might have been in Bakersfield. Sometimes I wonder if we’d been stranded in Bakersfield, if we might have joined the likes of The Maddox Brothers and Rose.The Harmony Ramblers played their last gig somewhere in Coalinga (I don’t even remember where it was) in 1956. Dave never lost his appetite. He managed to squeeze his music into a busy life, sometimes full-time, but mostly to supplement his meager earnings from “regular” jobs.Now, those of you who might read this, who are truly accomplished musicians, may say, “so what happened to the Dave Allen we knew in the 60’s. I will answer he succumbed to addictions besidesmusic, night life and bright lights. Am I angry or judgmental? Absolutely not. He was a genius andcould make us cry with the passion he poured into his music.
I haven’t researched further than The Steel Guidar Forum’s website, where Bob Grossman, Jason Oddand Paul Graupp wrote comments in 2002 that touched my heart, my soul, and gave me a few moments of reverie, I felt compelled to share. Considering the entries are now some 22 years ago, and nearing my own end than I’d like to admit, a few thoughts to whomever may read this seemed appropriate.
Thanks for listenin'! |
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