Whether a curse or a gift (and my opinion on this point changes daily), things often catch my eye, mind, and heart that other people ignore.
I find meaning in lyrics others do not hear, and I find significance in events and issues others feel are meaningless. I never know when it’s going to strike deep, but when it does, this gift opens doors for me that I feel compelled to pass through. And then the journey begins. . . . On this day, I am grateful for this gift.
Millions of Buddy Holly fans love his music. It raves on all over the world every day, decades after his death. For reasons you will learn on the pages that follow, I never paid any attention to Buddy or his music when I was growing up. As you read, you will soon agree that I am one of the least likely people to write anything about Buddy Holly. But the “gift” tapped me on the shoulder one evening and whispered in my ear. The words seized both my mind and my heart and sent me on a passionate search I will now share with you.
As you probably have already discerned, this is not a Buddy Holly biography or a history of his music. Hey Buddy is a personal journey—a search for the meaning of Buddy and how he continues to impact, more than five decades after his horrific and untimely death, the lives of others. In the process, I discovered a part of myself I did not know existed.
* * *
There is method to my madness, or at least I like to think so. Most of what follows is written, as are most books, in third person prose. I wrote most of this after the experience took place, so this is appropriate. In some places, though, it seemed more natural to communicate what was going on in my head as I typed the very words on the page. Given the sort of book this is, I hope it helps you, the reader, to experience some of my journey of discovery as I did, in real time. Not everyone fully understood the first time around.
“Gary, you do realize you are changing your time perspective back and forth from chapter to chapter, right?” asked my agent Tris Coburn.
“Yes, Tris. I do.” I replied. Silence. “Tris?”
“Yes?”
“What’s a tense?” I laughed. Silence.
Some people just don’t fully understand me.
* * *
“Gary, I’m afraid you are going to drive your readers bonkers if you switch back and forth like this,” warned friend and fellow author Bonnie Bartel Latino.
“Thanks, Bonnie. I’m sure you’re right, but I am bonkers. You have read the manuscript? They can join me. I’ll appreciate the company.”
* * *
“What exactly are you doing?” asked my publisher Ted Savas. The worry about his investment in me and my book was apparent in his voice.
“I’m writing from my heart. Sometimes in real time, sometimes not,” I replied.
“Oh my God, Gary,” he groaned. I know Ted well. When something bothers him, he lifts his right hand and rubs his frowning forehead with his eyes closed. “I don’t really care if this is first or third person,” he continued. “I think it can work either way,” he sighed. “Tell me again why I signed you to write this book?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a laugh. “Because you are a glutton for punishment, maybe?”
* * *
The woman put down the manuscript and looked at me from across the kitchen table. “Then . . . now . . . then . . . now . . . then . . . now. Just pick a time-frame and go with it!” she insisted. I nodded in agreement. “But . . . are you really going to admit everything you are thinking and feeling on paper for all your friends—and complete strangers—to read?” she asked. Real horror was written across my wife’s face.
I shrugged and smiled back.
* * *
With great respect for everyone, I decided to write Hey Buddy as I felt it, and now it rests in your hands. Consider yourself warned. Look at it this way: We are on a journey together and at some point along the way we stop together and take a break. During that time we engage in intense and emotional conversations about what is happening right at the moment. I just have to tell you! And then we continue on with the story in a more traditional style. I hope you enjoy it.
* * *
There are so many people who helped me with this book, and I am certain I have left some of you out. Please know that I know who you are, and that I appreciate your assistance, your support, and your friendship.
John Mueller is a dynamic performer who, among other impressive accomplishments, portrays Buddy Holly in John’s touring recreation of the 1959 Winter Dance Party. John is also an accomplished songwriter whose personal tribute to Holly, “Hey Buddy,” stirred my heart and my passions. Thank you, John. Your song touched my heart and stimulated my imagination. Your performance sent me on a journey I have loved. I am much better for having taken it. I would not even pretend to speak for Buddy, but I can only believe that he is also very grateful to you for your touching tribute and all the work you continue to do to keep his music alive. The music did not die on that day, after all. Buddy raves on—and today you are his standard bearer.
Thank you to my friend and Managing Director Theodore P. Savas of Savas Beatie LLC for allowing this book to come to life. Ted took a chance on an unpublished author in 2006 with Playing with the Enemy: A Baseball Prodigy, a World at War, and a Field of Broken Dreams. Apparently he didn’t learn his lesson because he’s published me again. Ted is an Iowan, and maybe like a young girl you will soon read about in these pages, has a little of that “Iowa guilt” about Buddy dying in his home state. After all, Ted grew up just eight miles from where Buddy’s life ended. I think Ted feels that working with me is the penance he must pay. Thank you, Ted and everyone at Savas Beatie (especially Marketing Director Sarah Keeney) for your continued faith in me and my work.
I also would like to thank Tris Coburn, my friend and literary agent, for your help and support. Like Ted, Tris took a chance with a first-time author and was willing to do it again. I am grateful, Tris, for your help and guidance.
Tim Duggan has been a good friend for many years. He displayed amazing patience as I searched for the music of my youth. Bestselling author Jim Riordan (aka Levi Storm) has a unique point of view and understanding of the 1960s, and he readily shared them with me. Thank you, Jim for all of your help and support. Thank you also to Stacey Cisneros, Bob Hale, Dick Cole, Tim Milner, Ramona and Gary Tollett, Bobby Vee, Taryn Serwatowski, Keith Mastre, Eddie Weir, and Gary Clevenger for sharing your knowledge, your stories, and your candid feelings with me.
Thank you also to Dick Rodriguez for your brilliant insight into the February 1959 crash. Your decades of experience and willingness to share your thoughts proved invaluable to me.
Bonnie Bartel Latino read an early draft of the manuscript and offered keen perspective and endless encouragement, all of which made this book better than it otherwise would have been.
Veteran reporter and legendary baseball writer John Skipper, who writes for the Globe Gazette in Mason City, Iowa, has been my friend since he mentored me during the writing stage of Playing with the Enemy. John was early in his encouragement of this project, and has been very helpful throughout.
Thank you Bill Griggs for your time and attention and for dedicating your life to Buddy’s memory. No one could have done it better.
Thank you to the people and leaders of Lubbock, Texas, for the support you provide the Buddy Holly Center and other efforts to recognize and remember Buddy Holly and the Crickets. Curator Jacqueline A. Bober gave (and continues to give) willingly of her time and knowledge. I am deeply grateful for the wonderful day I spent with you and your staff at the Buddy Holly Center.
My two sons, Toby and Travis, continue to be a source of fun and excitement in my life. Watching you grow from boys to men has made me more proud than you can know.
I would like to thank my daughter and son-in-law, Tara Beth and Jeff Leach, for being the people you are and for your love for each other. And thank you for my new grandson Caleb Daniel Leach. I can’t wait to put drumsticks in his hands.
Arlene is the love of my life, my best friend, and the woman who in the entire world I admire the most. Thank you for listening to me babble for hours about Buddy Holly, and for taking this journey with me.
Thank you to the hippest mother-in-law in the world, Norma Wurster Wigant Jackson and her husband Bob. Thank you both for introducing me to Buddy’s music through John Mueller. But more importantly, thank you Norma for welcoming me into your family for the last thirty-five years and for allowing me to marry your daughter who, in so many ways, is just like you.
Buddy Holly. How do I thank you? Your creativity, your enthusiasm, and your gift of music for generations yet unborn has changed my life as it has affected so many others. I marvel at how you, such a young and humble man, could have such a profound and lasting impact upon the world in such a short time. I am guessing Jesus loves to rock and you are a hit in heaven.
And most importantly, thank you to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who loves and supports me through all my weaknesses and failings.