Uncle Dave Macon

Uncle Dave

A variety of known and lesser-known artists appear here, from Uncle Dave Macon to the Arthur Smith Trio - Nashville: The Early String Bands

Ha?¹

Known and ...

LESSER
KNOWN ARTISTS
????!!!!????

But that last group. Surely that couldn't mean...

UNCLE
DAVE
MACON
????!!!!????

Well, yes. Certainly now. After all, if you go up and ask any Joe or Josephine Blow on the street if they've ever heard of Uncle Dave, they'll probably say, why yes, wasn't he the host of a kid's program years ago?

Soddy, folks. Truth to tell, Uncle Dave Macon was Country Music's first superstar.

What? What?² You're saying Uncle Dave Macon is still a lesser known artist and was Country Music's first superstar?

Yes, Uncle Dave Macon was Country Music's first superstar.

That is, of course, quite the sweeping statement as it seems to ease out other early superstars like Roy Acuff and Hank Williams. But Dave certainly seems to be the first country performer who made it via the big three genres of modern entertainment: touring, recordings, and broadcasting.

First a word of warning. Today's more - ah - sophisticated audiences may pull up a recording of Uncle Dave or see a film clip and quote Shakespeare. "Ha?" they'll say. "THAT is Country Music's first superstar?" Instead they see an elderly gentleman who seems bent on parodying an Old Time Country musician - and not doing a very good job of it.

But remember. Uncle Dave Macon was a veteran of the era of live and unamplified performances. When he finally began recording and performing on radio and film he tended to disregard the restraints of studio performing (like not stomping his feet and jumping around). One fellow banjo player mentioned that sometimes the technicians had to follow Uncle Dave around as he would get up and dance around. So the electronic remnants of his performances can't really capture what brought the accolades from the early audiences.

The music has also evolved consequent with modern tastes. In the 1980's Roy Acuff, who we mentioned above, said that Uncle Dave probably would not have liked today's country music. Not only has C&W become electrified, there are times the music hardly seems country. On one of the early Grand Ole Opry television shows, the host brought out a vocal quartet - who sang "When the Saints Go Marching In".

As far as Uncle Dave being from a poor rural family, his dad did meet considerable reverses after the American Civil War. But that was more of an aberration for the Macon family who actually had a distinguished history starting from its first American scion.

That was Gideon, who came over from England sometime in the 1600's. Settling in Virginia, Gideon rose to prominence when he was elected to the House of Burgesses, and later he became the secretary to the governor.

At least some Macons moseyed on down to North Carolina. There Nathaniel Macon continued the family's tradition of distinguished service. He was elected to Congress in 1791, first as a Representative and then a Senator. The town of Macon, Georgia, is named after him.

Nathaniel's brother, John, began the lineage that lead to our Uncle Dave. John fought against the British in the Revolutionary War, and among other things during the winter of 1779-1780 he hung around Valley Forge with some guy named George who later sported the most famous set of false teeth in history.

In lieu of promised but never delivered back pay and military pensions, John received a land grant in Warren County, Tennessee. However, he stayed in North Carolina where eventually he and his wife sired seven kids, of which one, Harrison, finally pulled up stakes and moved to the family land in Tennessee.

By the 1840's Harrison and his family were settled on a farm a few miles west of McMinnville, about 65 miles southeast of Nashville. Harrison was not a man to let grass grow under his feet and he not only became a successful farmer but ultimately the owner of multiple businesses, including a distillery.

Naturally his kids weren't going to be simple dirt farmers and his son, John, Jr., actually graduated from college. John, Jr., continued his dad's line of work, farming and entrepreneurship, and in 1855 he married Martha Ramsey. They settled in a large house (dubbed "Macon Manor"), and things were looking rosy for the Macon Family of Tennessee.

Then as Sultan Mehmed VI Vahideddin found out, if you fight a war, it's best to be on the winning side. When the American Civil War broke out, Tennessee became the last state to secede from the Union, and John joined up with the "Rebs". Although he reached the rank of Captain - a title his friends used for the rest of his life - after four years of fighting and three weeks after Robert E. Lee surrendered to a man named Hiram, John and the rest of his regiment finally gave up.

John returned home and five years after the war, on October 7, 1870, Martha gave birth to their eighth child, David Harrison Macon. But Tennessee had been hit hard by the war. Eventually Captain John had to sell off his businesses and farms to square his debts. Having some cash left over, he moved to Nashville and was able to buy the Broadway House Hotel which in addition to being his new business, gave his family a place to live.

Nashville was, as it is now, a musical city, and the Macons were a musical family. This was a time that if you wanted music it had to be live music, and it was a rare family that didn't have someone who could play an instrument or sing. Martha and her daughters played piano, and young Dave learned the guitar.

Of course, among the travelers that frequented the hotel were professional performers and musicians. The most popular entertainment of the time were the minstrel shows where the banjo was the predominant instrument and served as a more rugged and louder alternative to the guitar. Dave became fascinated with the instrument and found willing teachers among the hotel guests. One of the traveling banjoists, Joel Davidson, made such an impression on the young man that Dave convinced his mom to buy him one.

While learning to play, Dave also attended high school. He was a good student, particularly at arithmetic and penmanship. So he helped his folks keep books and was able to pick up the rudiments of maintaining proper cash flow when running a business.

We see, then, that far from being an uneducated country bumpkin, Dave Macon came from a hardworking and prosperous family. His education - attending if not graduating high school - was quite good in a day when maybe only half of the kids over five years old went to school at all, and of the kids who did that, most didn't even reach the eighth grade.³ Dave didn't mind working either. With such a background Dave's later success, if not exactly predictable, is certainly not surprising.

Then in 1886 when Dave was 15, tragedy struck. Exact details are a bit fuzzy, but it seems that a local revenue agent had been walking by the hotel when John's grown sons, John, Jr., and Sam, began expressing their displeasure. After all, they probably didn't like paying taxes any more than anyone else.

John rushed out and joined his sons in berating the agent. At some point things got so bad that the agent pulled out a penknife and cut through an artery in John's arm. Although he was taken to a hospital, John died. The agent was tried for the killing, but acquitted.

Martha was devastated, and decided that running the hotel on her own was too much. So she sold out and bought a farm near Readyville about 40 miles southeast of Nashville. It was a pretty good spread and the house was three stories and made of brick. With such a large home, Martha decided in addition to running the farm she could still take in boarders. Her older sons also farmed and ran businesses and all in all the Macons continued to do well. Most of the kids stayed close to home but some moved away. The youngest son, Bob, relocated to the town of Vinita in the Cherokee Nation.⁴

By the time he was twenty, Dave was taking care of the horses and mules of the travelers who stopped by. He also worked on the farm, plowing the ground and planting the crops. Of course, Dave kept on with his musical studies and he set up a stage where he would entertain the guests. He didn't charge anything but he'd get tips for his efforts.

Dave was, in fact, getting quite a good reputation as a singer and player. People would turn to him when they needed music for parties and dances or other societal functions. His repertoire was expansive and ranged from hoedowns⁵ to church hymns. Afterwards, everyone would chip in, and so Uncle Dave usually returned home with a few bucks. From time to time he began to think about turning professional and for a while he played in a duo with the local fiddler Mazy Todd as the Readyville Roosters.

But the uncertainties of showbiz and responsibilities to his family kept Dave close to home, particularly after 1889 when he married a local girl. Mary Matilda Richardson was called Tildy by her friends and she and Dave moved to Kittrell about 4 miles west of Readyville where in addition to farming Dave set up a freight business. Of course, he did everything himself, loading, hauling, and delivering the wares. If nothing else the job kept him in excellent shape.

It also made him one of the more prosperous residents of the county. With his knack for figures and the low overhead, Dave knew what had to be done to keep a business running. He was reliable, his fees were reasonable, and although transactions in the 19th century were often on credit, Dave expected prompt cash payments for the services rendered.

A goodly part of the job, though, was simply driving the mules and wagon back and forth from the train station to his customers. As anyone who had handled draft animals knows, after a while they know where they are going and the driver can just let them have their head. So Dave would play his banjo to while away the hours as he traveled up and down the old plank road. Soon he became a familiar and popular figure as he came to town, his banjo on his knee.

So things continued. Dave would tend to his business, his farm, and pick up some extra change playing his banjo. By the time he was in his forties, he had obtained considerable experience (and a reputation) in putting on a good show complete with jokes, banjo acrobatics, and of course, the popular songs of the time.

There was more to Dave than just work and music. Religion had always been an important part of rural American culture and as a young man he attended services and the various church socials and revivals. Then in his mid-thirties Dave became a fervent believer and a devout and committed Methodist.⁶ Naturally during the Scopes "Monkey Trial" of 1925 he sided with William Jennings Bryan. But then, science had never been one of Dave's stronger subjects.

There's one aspect of Dave's life that has only recently been discussed in detail. Dave was usually jovial and friendly but sometimes he would have times where he became silent and withdrawn. As the new Millennium turned these "spells" got more severe and it was clear that all was not well. It got to the point where he would sometimes sit for days just staring at the fire. He might even go out and sit under the trees and once a passer-by saw him sitting astride the roof of the barn. It was only when he picked up his banjo and began to play that the family knew he was coming around.

Today we'd probably say that Dave suffered from manic depressive illness or rather a bipolar disorder. Modern treatments help mediate the mood swings, but in the early Twentieth Century, mental problems were simply handled by the family or if things got too bad, the sufferers would be taken to a mental hospital whether they wanted to go or not. Commitments to these "insane asylums" were indefinite and if any medications were administered they might be nothing more than concoctions of opium and alcohol.

Perhaps it was in his attempts to find relief from his depression that Dave, his staunch Methodist beliefs notwithstanding, really began to hit the bottle. The effects were predictable. He would swerve from silent moodiness to irascibility, even belligerence, and although he never seems to have been physical, he would heap imprecations on the family, particularly at Tildy. At one point their oldest son, Archie, told his mom that he would never allow whiskey in his own house.

Dave didn't improve and there were times Tildy authorized his commitment. The spells continued for years, and in his mid-40's he had one of his worst episodes just before Bob showed up for a visit. When Bob saw the state his brother was in, he told Dave he was going to take him to the hospital. Grudgingly Dave agreed to go.

With his valise in hand Dave climbed into the car, and Bob drove to Nashville. At the hospital Dave told Bob that he didn't need to get out; he would go in himself to make sure they could admit him. Bob said OK and waited in the car.

Dave went up to the desk. He said there was a patient outside, and they needed to go in and fetch him. But, Dave warned the attendants, the man would certainly resist.

Bob was certainly surprised when a group of burly men came out and despite his voluble protests, pulled him from the car and placed him in a ward with other mental patients. Although we read that Dave didn't drive he must have had some rudimentary skill since somehow he managed to get back home, presumably in the car. Or at least later that night Bob showed up at the farm in one of the hospital's ambulances and chauffeured by one of the hospital staff.

The severity of Dave's illness was definitely exacerbated by alcohol and in a hospital and away from whiskey, his condition would improve. Then following another stint in the hospital in 1919, he was getting ready to leave when he began to play his banjo. People stopped by to listen and after a while, one of the staff asked if he would put on a show.

Dave never had to be asked twice and the show was a success. The approval of the staff and patients boosted his spirits and he returned home where in the interim Tildy had given birth to what was be their last - and seventh - child. Dave was filled with remorse at not being present for the birth, and he vowed to change his ways. Certainly he never required hospitalization again.

Times had changed since the Macons had relocated from North Carolina to Tennessee. As the second decade of the 20th century moved toward the third, the horseless carriages had been pushed aside by the Henry Ford's Model T (which came in colors other than black). After the end of the War That Didn't End All Wars, businesses were pretty much eschewing the horse drawn wagon for motorized transport.

But not Dave. Rather than learn to drive and haul his freight in trucks, he just decided to retire. He'd stick to running the farm.

And play the banjo, of course.

When Dave became a professional musician is a subject of scholarly debate. Most often you'll hear it was 1921 when he put on a well-received performance in Morrison, Tennessee. However, Dave had been playing at least as a semi-professional for decades.⁷ We've seen that if there was a group wanting to get people together for whatever reason - parties, dances, or just socializing - they'd ask Dave to come in and play. They'd likely give him a gratuity or let him pass the hat.

However, Dave's biographer found that it's probably more accurate to cite a performance at a church in Liberty, Tennessee, in 1919 as his professional debut - at least technically. No one really knows exactly how the concert got organized, but it was a rousing success.

In fact so rousing and the crowd was making such a ruckus that the local constable stopped by to see what was going on. Evidently proper permits had not been obtained and the crowd quickly cleared out leaving the policeman writing Dave a series of tickets. So although Dave got paid, virtually all of the proceeds went to pay the fines.

But what really pushed Dave to being a full-time professional was a trip to visit his brother Bob in Vinita in 1920. The son of their older sister, Annie, had developed asthma and the doctors said it was so serious that the young man needed to move from the wet Tennessee environment to a less humid clime. Bob offered to let his nephew, who was also named Robert, come and live with him in Oklahoma.

When Dave, Annie, and Robert arrived in Vinita, Bob invited a number of friends over. Dave had his banjo, of course, and he put on his usual show of playing tunes, telling jokes, and keeping everyone entertained.

Well, this performance - just playing for family and friends - opened the floodgates. After the show, a lady asked Dave if he would play for a fundraiser for their church. Naturally Dave agreed and the fundraiser pulled in enough for the church plus a cut for Dave.

Suddenly people began showing up at Bob's asking if Dave could play for their soirées. There everyone would chip in a little and Uncle Davie would usually take home a nice bit of change. All in all Dave stayed and performed in northeast Oklahoma for a full month. When he got home Dave figured he had what it takes.

Back home Dave began contacting organizations and civic leaders who needed entertainment. Almost always the shows were a success, and he could depend on repeat performances. Dave's business acumen stood him in good stead, and he was his own agent, road manager, and publicist. He would arrange a circuit of shows that would take him not just through Tennessee but to other states around the South as well. Knowing the importance of making an impression, he was always well dressed and billed himself as "Uncle" Dave Macon, the "World's Greatest Banjo Player". In a few months Uncle Dave was making enough to support his family by his banjo alone.

If Uncle Dave found himself with free time he would plop himself down on a street and begin to play. Inevitably that would draw the attention of the townspeople and so bring even more offers for a paying performance. He'd also stop by local businesses and ask if the owner wanted a little music for his customers.

It was in one of these impromptu performances that Uncle Dave met the fiddler Sidney Harkreader. Uncle Dave was playing in a barbershop in Nashville when Sid walked in with his fiddle. Soon the two men were jamming (to use a modern term). Sid could also play the guitar and sing harmony and the two men decided to join forces.

But more importantly one of the customers was a man named Ediston Vinson who managed one of the Nashville theaters (Ediston is the actual name, not a misprint). He offered them a three week engagement at $50 a week. The show was a success and soon they had more concerts signed up.

By 1923, Sid and Uncle Dave were touring regularly and making a good living at it. Then Uncle Dave got call from a friend in Kittrell. Would he and Sid play for a group of furniture dealers in Chattanooga? Sure, said Uncle Dave, and learned that the show was to be at the Read House, one of Chattanooga's luxury hotels. As usual the crowd loved him.

After the show, a man named Charles Rutherford stepped up. He worked for Sterchi Brothers, one of the biggest furniture dealers in the country and one that's still going strong. Some of the "furniture" happened to be record players and what good are record players without records? And Charles said they were looking for musicians. Would they come to New York and cut some platters?

Uncle Dave and Sid stayed in the Big Apple for four days and the sessions produced nineteen double sided 78 recordings. Although all the records were not released immediately, they sold well and during his stay, Uncle Dave was contacted by an old friend who had become a successful New York banker. Would he be willing to play for a bankers convention at the Astor Hotel? Dave and Sid got a rousing ovation and were paid $50 apiece.

The 1920's was an era of change as much, if not more, than the computer revolution of 60 years later. And with the electrification of the world, there had emerged a competitor for the commercial recordings. That was radio.

The first wireless transmission of a coherent (although coded) message was in 1896. Then ten years later the first voice transmission was achieved and by 1910 a performance was broadcast from the Metropolitan Opera. In 1920 the first commercial broadcast announced that Warren G. Harding had beat James Cox for President, and the next year people were listening to the broadcasts of baseball and football games.

Today with the megacorporations controlling the airwaves, it may be a surprise how some early stations were largely promotional tools for a single local business. For instance the first commercial station in Nashville was Station WDAD which was owned by Fred Exum - called "Pop" by his friends - who ran Dad's Auto Accessories store (hence the call number). In between shows, he'd tout his wares. By necessity all programs were live, and when Pop wanted to play Old Time Music, he called on Uncle Dave. That was in 1925.

Competition is the lifeblood of both commerce and art, and in the same year Station WSM began broadcasting in Nashville. An even older station, WMC, had been founded in Memphis in 1923, and by 1927 there were over 700 stations operating in the country.

Of course the shows had to have hosts - that is, announcers who kicked the show off, introduced the acts, and rattled off the commercials. One of the most popular announcers on WMC was George Hay who for no apparent reason was called "The Solemn Old Judge". George's delivery provided the right balance of folksy friendliness and cosmopolitan formality that the audience loved.

George was quickly lured up north to Chicago where he started the famous, popular, and long lived WLS Barn Dance. The popularity of the show resulted in George being lured back to Nashville where he took over announcing for WSM.

By 1925 George was hosting a show homonomincally called the WSM Barn Dance, and it was inevitable that George would invite Uncle Dave to play. Now bearing the sobriquet "The Dixie Dewdrop", Uncle Dave was quickly installed as a regular on the show which in two years was renamed as The Grand Ole Opry.

Uncle Dave found that playing solo was fun and profitable but it was also tiring and he wasn't getting any younger. Although Sid Harkreader would continue to play with Uncle Dave, he was not always available. So in 1927 Uncle Dave asked Mazy Todd to rejoin him with guitarist Sam McGee (who also played a good banjo). They formed the Fruit Jar Drinkers, one of the first nationally broadcast Old Time stringbands.

The trouble was that the band was always billed as Uncle Dave Macon and the Fruit Jar Drinkers. So Mazy and Sam eventually decided to branch out on their own and Uncle Dave wondered where to turn for a sideman.

By now all of his kids were grown. But his fifth son, Dorris, had never seemed to be interested in joining in his brothers' businesses and although he worked on the farm his heart really wasn't in it. But Dorris did play guitar and one day Uncle Dave told him he was going to come with him on his next tour. Although Dorris said he didn't think he was good enough, he really couldn't refuse his dad. Uncle Dave had made the right choice and Dorris soon provided a good second guitar and a strong vocal backup.

As Uncle Dave and Dorris were in the inaugural cast of the Grand Ole Opry, naturally they were featured in the film "Grand Ole Opry" in 1940. The actual stars were the now forgotten but then famous act, The Weaver Brothers and Elviry. But the real Grand Ole Opry cast was also part of the show including a young Roy Acuff who soloed with "The Wabash Cannonball". Uncle Dave and Dorris also came on screen and played "Take Me Back To My Old Carolina Home". It seems that Hollywood may have enhanced the soundtrack a bit since when Uncle Dave is swinging his banjo around you can still hear it being played.

Uncle Dave's banjo picking is classified as "Old Time" or "Traditional". But there were variations. In some of his songs he clearly played the "clawhammer" or "frailing" technique. This was the oldest banjo style and has been traced back to Africa. In clawhammer you pick the melody with a downstroke with the back of the fingertip - either the index or middle - while the thumb picks down on the drone string usually on the off-beat. Since it's the nail that strikes the melody strings, clawhammer can produce nice clear but plunky notes which are softer than when you use metal finger picks.

However, Uncle Dave also played a two-finger "up-picking" where the index finger plucks up on the melody strings while the thumb strikes the fifth string with a downstroke. Sometimes the thumb will drop down to play the other strings as well. This was the precursor of the now common three-finger playing of the bluegrass banjoists.

Of course, Uncle Dave continued to record and by one count he issued over 200 two-sided discs from 1925 to 1938. But a warning is in order to the modern listener who dips into Uncle Dave's repertoire as they may find some of the lyrics offensive (to put it mildly). Fortunately, those lyrics are heard only on a minority of the recordings and so you can still listen to most of Uncle Dave's records without objection.

Certainly such lyrics don't seem to reflect Dave's personal attitudes. He had no problem performing and traveling with guitarist and harmonicist DeFord Bailey, who like Dave was one of the first members of the Grand Ole Opry and in fact was the only African American on the cast until 1993 when Charlie Pride was made a permanent member. In a day when black performers in integrated troupes had to find separate lodgings and meal arrangements, Uncle Dave would resort to subterfuge so he and Deford could eat and room at the same hotel. The times, we have to admit, were different.

But so was the music. As the mid-20th century approached, "Hillbilly" music became "Country and Western", and Old Timey morphed into Bluegrass, a genre that in general Dave didn't like. In the late 1940's when he saw the rapid fire and crisp three finger playing of Earl Scruggs, Bill Monroe's new banjo player, his comment was "He ain't a damn bit funny."

However, Uncle Dave, Earl, and Bill's guitarist, Lester Flatt, personally got along well and sometimes if circumstances demanded it, they would all triple up in a room while touring. Earl remembered a time when he and Dave were traveling together and they got stuck in a motel during a snowstorm. They had a fine time sitting around and picking their banjos.

Uncle Dave kept playing (literally) to the end. His last Opry appearance was March 1, 1952. He died three weeks later, March 22.

References

Dixie Dewdrop: The Uncle Dave Macon Story, Michael Doubler, University of Illinois Press, 2018. This is the first book length scholarly biography of Dave. An excellent book.

The Dave Macon Program, Blaine Dunlap and Sol Korine, Georgia Public Television, 1981

"Uncle Dave Macon: A Study in Repertoire", Mike Yates, Musical Traditions, September 9, 2010.

"20 Things You Didn't Know about Uncle Dave Macon", Claire Ratliff, Bluegrass Today, June 7, 2018.

"Uncle Dave Macon and His Fruit Jar Drinkers", Last FM.

"Jimmy Driftwood (1907-1998)", Zac Cothren, Arkansas Historic Preservation Program, Encyclopedia of Arkansas, December 13/2013.

Nashville: The Early String Bands, Volume 1, County Records, October 30, 2000.

"Business is lively with Smartt & Cummings at Smartt's Station, in their new store", Southern Standard, January 8, 1881.

"Earl Scruggs and the Five-String Banjo", Earl Scruggs, Peer International, 1968.

"Soldier's Joy", Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Will the Circle Be Unbroken, United Artists, 1972.

"This Is What School Was Like 100 Years Ago", Sunny Sea Gold, Reader's Digest, January 13, 2021.

"Median Years of Schooling Completed and Number of Years Completed by the Least-Educated and Most-Educated 20 Percent of Adults, by Year of Twenty-First Birthday", Russell Sage Foundation.

"Old Time Fiddler's Convention", Watauga (Tennessee) Democrat, May 28, 1931, page 5, Chronicling America, Library of Congress.

"Model T Had Many Shades; Black Dried Fastest", Diana Kurylko, Automotive News, June 16, 2003.

"Grand Ole Opry", Frank McDonald (director), Dorrell McGowan (writer), Stuart McGowan (writer), Armand Schaefer (producer), Republic Pictures, 1940, Internet Movie Data Base

"Reginald Aubrey Fessenden - Canadian scientist", Encyclopedia Britannica.

"History of Commercial Radio", Federal Communications Commission.

"Uncle Dave Macon", Discography of American Historical Recordings

"Uncle Dave Macon", Find A Grave, January 31, 2001.