My Story-Nashville, Here I Come!

It was the summer of 1970. I wasn't quite 22 years and I found myself all alone in Nashville, Tennessee. I left everyone behind that I knew and Loved. My family, my girl, my old band and friends were all back home in Pennsylvania and West Virginia. I went to Nashville like so many other young men looking for a break in the music world. I had already done some recording in New York with my old band but never had I ever tried to make it on my own. I had already written over 400 songs and I did the recordings on a reel to reel tape recorder using an old Sears Silvertone guitar amplifier. It was kind of crude but that's all I had.

I arrived by bus. I had no job or place to stay when I arrived and I had very little money. I didn't sleep anywhere the first night. I just kept walking around Nashville trying to find a job. The very next day I landed a job at a Bonanza steakhouse. I was so incredibly excited. It happened so fast. The manager of the steakhouse just happened to be a very benevolent soul. He not only gave me job, he found me a place to stay. He took me on a short bus ride to 1245 Beechnut Street. We walked into this big old southern home and he introduced me to an elderly lady named Vera. She had a second floor available for $10.00 a week. She always wanted that room rented to a young male because she was afraid of burglars and vandals. That was kind of scary to me but I needed a place to stay and so I moved in with Vera.

I worked 6 days a week at the Bonanza. Thursday was my off day. Every Thursday I would take a bus down to Music Row to try and peddle my songs. I only had that one day and so I had to be very efficient with my time. Staying in that sleeping room was so depressing. I tried writing songs and letters to make the time go by. I was 22 years old and walked away from every meaningful relationship that I had. I was lonely and deeply discouraged and guilt ridden because I felt like I disappointed my parents by not finishing college. Things seemed to be closing in on me. I felt very insecure for the first time in my life. I started bringing home a six pack of beer every night. The alcohol began to drive me deeper into despair.

One night I brought a fifth of whiskey home with me. That was more than I could take. I drank almost half of that bottle and became stone drunk and then all of the sudden the strangest of things happened. I fell on my knees in deep despair and I began crying out to God at the top of my voice. I woke Vera up. I was desparate for help. I began to curse God. I never really ask God for much of anything before that. I didn't know anything about Him. I thought that only people in church had a handle on the God thing. I pleaded with Him and begged Him to help me make it in music. Amidst my drunken stooper I found my self in this imaginary conversation with a God that I had never talked to before.

The next morning, I woke up and found myself lying on the floor right beside the bed. I dismissed the whole evening as nothing but alcohol induced babel and promised myself never to drink like that again. I may have dismissed that evening entirely but the other party in my conversation decided to do something about my request. Almighty God heard my cry and the next eighteen months of my life were about to change dramatically. A series of events began to unravel and the results of these events remain with me even to this day.

Next up.....

The Miracle on Music Row