In the mid 90s, I went to my first NARAS meeting in Memphis. I saw one familiar face in the room so I sat with Charlie Lawing. The meeting started and James Alexander asked if everyone would introduce themselves. We were sitting in a semicircle, and I wound up going first.
"My name is Ricky Stevens, and I run a website for musicians. It's 3kids.com" The room responded with a polite murmur.
"I'm Charlie Lawing. I'm with a music store called Strings and Things." A little more applause. Charlie's a good guy and well-known in Memphis.
Next up was a well-known female singer who shall remain nameless. She recited her press kit from memory, listing all names of everyone working on her current project, her club and festival dates, newspaper write ups, all of her "shared the stage with" credits, the standard "look at me!!" BS.
After her was a singer-songwriter who employed every overworked adjective in the music business to describe herself. She even introduced herself by her nickname-"I'm the (blank blank) herself.” This songstress did her best to two-up the previous hype fest. To hear her talk she was the second coming of Bessie Smith and Dusty Springfield, except better.
Next up was an older gentleman. From his white patent leather boots, polyester suit and wide tie I knew he was either a car salesman or a gospel singer. I was wrong. He was the King of the Gospel Singers.
He stood slowly and spoke clearly.
"My name is James Blackwood. I've been in the music business 47 years. I have 25 Dove Awards. Somewhere at my house I have 9 Grammies and good Lord willing come January, I'll have a tenth one as my latest record with the Light Crust Doughboys has been nominated for Best Gospel Album."
The room got really quiet after the standing ovation. The introductions got a lot humbler, too.
After the meeting Charlie asked if I had ever met Mr. Blackwood. I said no, but he was one of my heroes and I'd love to. Charlie did the introduction.
I stammered and said the usual things fans do when they meet their musical idols. I told Mr. Blackwood when I was growing up there were two kinds of music in our house, Blackwood Brothers and "other." He smiled. I then told him the only thing I had ever stolen in my life was the copy of the Blackwood Brothers 25th Anniversary LP that I took when I moved out of my parent's house.
He froze and looked me in the eye. I froze.
He reached into his briefcase, took out a copy of the Light Crust Doughboys CD, signed it, and put it in my hand. "You take that record back to your mama, you hear me?"
"Yes, sir."That's when he grinned as he walked away.
"Did he just give you a CD?" asked Charlie.
"Yes."
"Frame that. He doesn't give away anything."
Later I learned James Blackwood had the reputation of being the best salesman in the history of Southern Gospel Music.
Some years later Mr. Blackwood died. I usually don't go to "star" funerals, but I went to his.
Everybody that was anybody in Southern Gospel music was there. Among them, the pall bearers had enough Grammys and Doves to supply a couple of awards shows. Tour buses were turned around halfway to the next gig so people could get to Memphis in time for the services. One artist told how she asked her driver which way was Memphis. He pointed over his shoulder and said "That way". They made a U-turn at the next off ramp. I counted 30 buses at the church before I realized it didn't matter.
There's one vehicle I do remember. As I walked to the church I passed an older pickup truck. This was a work truck, not a restored museum piece. I remember seeing a wheelbarrow, shovels, and an assortment of concrete tools in the back. A stocky man with dark hair and a too-small suit got out of the cab. He had obviously put on the best he had and taken a day off work to pay his respects to Mr. Blackwood. He was crying as he got out of the truck.
My friend Christi from work knew Mr. Blackwood. Her father was involved in Southern Gospel, and Christi sang a little. She actually sang very well but wouldn't admit it. She's also drop-dead gorgeous, in a petite Barbie doll way.
We met at the church and sat together at the funeral. We were a little late, so we slipped in and sat on the back row. At the end of the service the congregation sang one of Mr. Blackwood's signature songs, "I Will Meet You in the Morning"
We must have sung twenty choruses, complete with a dozen key changes. With each key change Christi, and I would feel for a note and adjust parts accordingly. We alternated lead and harmony, just to make sure we could hit all the notes.
After the funeral, we were leaving, when two ladies approached us. They handed us a program and a pen and said "We don't know who you are but you must be Gospel singers. Can we get your autographs?"
Christi and I both smiled and said "Of course! Thank you!" and signed away.
I think that's what Mr. Blackwood would have done.
