In 1954 when I was almost 4 years old momma and daddy took me tent camping in the Yosemite Valley. I remember playing away my days there with a little boy from a neighboring campsite. His name was Jimbo.
Momma said that each morning after breakfast Jimbo came to our camp and he and I would spend hours sliding down the gigantic granite boulders that were strewn about the campground. In those days it was safe for tiny children to play out of sight of their parents. Momma says that I would slide and slide until the seat of my trousers were bare. She would change me into new clothes, I would take a nap and when I woke up Jimbo would come by again and off we went to wear out the seat in another pair of pants. Momma said by the time we got home all of my pants were threadbare on the backside.
Playing with Jimbo is a vivid memory for me and I can remember him just like it happened yesterday. Mostly I remember when he came to say good bye and how I was sad when we packed up and headed for home.
Momma always played the local country music station KEEN, while she ironed our clothes and one day after we returned from our camping trip I heard a song about Jimbo. Really the name of the song was "Bimbo" but my little ears heard Jimbo and I was so happy to hear this man sing about my friend and to think of Jimbo and me sliding down those huge boulders. I would sing along with the singer and remember my little camping buddie.
That is my earliest memory of a Jim Reeves song.
In 1955 momma had my baby brother. Boy, was he fat. I liked him and liked holding him but daddy thought I was going to drop him because I just turned 5 years old and my brother was heavy, so he didn't let me cuddle my brother very much. Momma knew I wouldn't hurt the baby but daddy was a strong influence on her so she did what he said. I didn't get to hold my brother like I wanted to.
Daddy knew lots of people and he liked to go to parties with them. Momma never did like these parties and I remember her trying to give daddy reasons so she could stay home. We had babysitters most of the time when they went out but once they took me and my brother along. There was lots of music playing. Country music like the kind momma liked on KEEN radio. I remember a song that my momma said was for my brother. The song was about a little boy named Roly Poly and he was his daddy's little fatty. That was my brother alright.
From the time I can remember we had horses. Daddy took me to rodeos and horseshows all over the San Jose area. I especially liked late summer just before school started. Each Labor Day, Mary Costa would host a "Three Day Ride" at her ranch at the end of San Felipe road in the eastern part of the Santa Clara Valley hills just below Mt. Hamilton. Mary Costa's ranch was down the road from the Henry Coe ranch and just over the hills from Coyote and Morgan Hill.
On Friday everyone pulled their rigs in and put their horses up in the huge barn. Mary Costa was a generous lady and the event was very popular with local cowboys. On Saturday there were assorted horsey events and trail rides and on Sunday half the group would take some of her cattle and drive them over the hills and down to Vyril Lieberts ranch in Coyote. This cattle drive signaled the end to the 3-day event. Those folks that didn't particitpate in the trail drive loaded up all the remaining tack, hooked up the trailers and drove down to meet us. Sunday afternoon ended with another BBQ and then sad but friendly farewells until the next year.
If we couldn't make the entire 3 days Daddy would make certain we were at the Saturday night dance which was the biggest party ever. There was a huge BBQ pit that was covered in wall-to-wall beefsteaks and familiar country music blasting over the entire area. The huge concrete dance floor was rimmed with big wooden tables and strings of colored party lights. There were full grown oak trees all around and benches to sit on. Just down a bit and out of the ring of multi-colored party light flowed a wide stream and if it wasn't a dry year it was running full and dammed up so that us kids could swim or float around during the day, washing away the dust from the trail rides. I was 13 but looked 16 and tried to pass that off to the boys that I met. My little brother seemed to make it his quest to let them know my real age and I wanted to die when they realized I was just a kid.
My daddy was a very energetic dancer. There was no doubt when you danced with him that he was in control. When it was my turn to dance around the floor with daddy a really catchy tune came blasting over the loud speakers. It was Jim Reeves singing "According to my Heart". Daddy took hold of my hand and led me out to the floor. Once there he took up my right hand and grabbed me tight to his barrel chest, counted out loud "One, two, three" and around the floor we would go, twirling and swirling like Polka dancers. I never got dizzy dancing with daddy. I never doubted for a minute that I knew how to dance even though he never taught me and I never watched my steps. Daddy just made me follow him. Holding me tight and laughing as we danced round and round.
When momma decided to divorce daddy I wasn't really sad. They fought about everything and it was scary to hear them screaming and hollering all the time. Really I was glad when daddy moved out. He continued to take me with him to rodeos and horseshows so I still felt like he loved me. But daddy had a woman that would go with us on our trips. I didn't like her but daddy did so I tried to be nice. She would act like my mother but she wasn't my mother. It was hard to be with daddy when she was around.
Once after the Salinas Rodeo was finished daddy had loaded the horses into our trailer and we headed north on Hwy 101 toward our home in San Jose. Just up the road a bit was a small mexican cafe where daddy pulled in to get us some dinner. The place was popular with the rodeo crowd and there were horse trailers filling up the parking lot. I don't remember what we ordered but I do remember that daddy gave me a dime and told me to go play a new song that was just out. "The Blizzard" by Jim Reeves, he said. I took his coin and went to peruse the jukebox list. I found the song and put my money into the coin slot. Pressing the letter and number combination I watched as the 45 RPM vinyl recording was magically plucked out of at least a hundred others and placed delicately on the turntable. Then the tone arm swung over and the needle gently landed on the record.
When the man sang the song he didn't sound sad at all as he told about a snow storm that had come up and how a cowboy and his horse tried to get back home. The cowboy wanted to help his injured horse but he couldn't because he was too tired. He sang that -- just 100 yards from Maryann -- the cowboy laid down in the snow storm to rest with Dan, his tired horse. I thought the song was very sad because the man loved his horse and wanted those hot biscuits that Maryann had waiting for him but he didn't make it home and his friends found him frozen there with his horse the next morning. Tears welled up and rolled down my cheeks when I heard this song because I loved my sweet old horse, the one that I nicknamed Dopey. I knew I would stay with him just like the cowboy in the song. I cried too because I didn't want this woman to be with my daddy but I knew there was nothing I could do to make her go away or make my momma want to be with daddy again.
I didn't think of Jim Reeve's or his music again until 1967 when I was 16. I was a normal teenager and old enough to listen to KLIV where I found there was too much good rock-n-roll to waste time on that old fashioned country and western stuff.
Then one hot summer's day I met a 19 year old AWOL sailor. Just for something to listen to I put one of mom's LP records on the stereo. As his smooth voice poured from the speakers it seemed that Jim Reeves knew us and sang the only songs that could fill the moment and instill the memory of that time and struggles of two young lovers permanently onto our hearts.
Here are our favorite "Gentleman Jim" songs;
