He was fifteen way back then, and Robert Thomas Velline was looking forward to February 3, 1959, with youthful enthusiasm. The Music was coming to Moorhead, Minnesota, just across the river from his hometown of Fargo, North Dakota. He and his friends had tickets to see Buddy Holly’s “Winter Dance Party” at the National Guard Armory. For Robert, waiting was simply painful. Days passed like weeks and minutes like hours as he and his friends anticipated the arrival of their teen idols.
The Vellines were a musical family. Robert’s father Sidney played the piano and violin, and Robert’s two brothers, Bill and Sidney Jr., played the guitar. Robert played in the high school band, but he found the formality of the band inhibiting.
“I played saxophone in the high school band,” remembers Robert, “But I wanted to rock out. We were playing all the standard band pieces and I wanted to do ‘Yakety Yak.’ My brother Bill went out and bought a guitar and I saved up enough money from my paper route to eventually buy a new (but sun faded) thirty dollar Harmony guitar for myself. We took advantage of each and every opportunity to see any musical act we could. Fargo hosted a lot of Country and Western artists,” he continued. “We would attend, listen, and then come home afterward and do our own version of the show in the living room of our home.”
But that was Country and Western. On February 3, 1959, Rock & Roll was coming to Moorhead and Robert, along with his brothers, friends, and every other teenager in the area, was looking forward to the arrival of The Winter Dance Party, featuring their favorite musical sensation, Buddy Holly!
Robert remembers the day. In fact, he will never forget it:
“It was February 3, 1959. I was a sophomore in high school and only lived a few blocks from school. The talk that day was all about Buddy Holly and the Crickets, Ritchie Valens, The Big Bopper, and Dion and the Belmonts. We could not believe they were coming to town. Our town!
“I ran home to have lunch and my mom was standing in the living room listening to the radio. Charlie Boone was on the air and I heard him mention The Winter Dance Party. My ears perked up, but I was not prepared for what I heard. How could it be? My heart had trouble accepting what my mind was processing.
“I was such a fan. Buddy Holly was in his very own zone, doing what he wanted to do and Buddy could do it all. He could write, perform, produce . . . we’ll never really know the full extent of his talent and abilities.
“Rock & Roll was new and it was bonkers,” Robert continued. “I was wild about it. We had a little garage band, one of only two in town. When I got back to school, Jim Stillman, our bass player, told me they were looking for bands to fill the void at the armory left by the death of the three artists. I still cannot believe they were going to put that show on, but they did. Jim called Charlie Boone at the radio station and said we would like to perform. To our surprise, Charlie said to show up, but to look good.
“We headed to JC Penney and bought matching shirts and ties and then headed straight for the armory. We were waiting in the wings backstage. I recognized Dion and the Belmonts and was looking for the Crickets when Charlie came up and asked for the name of our band. We’d never given it a thought! We looked at each other and it just popped out of my mouth: The Shadows!
“It happened quickly. We took our place on the stage and it was a surreal experience. There was the excitement we felt for getting this opportunity, along with the terrible realization that the slot to perform was only opened by the death of my hero, Buddy Holly.”
“What was it like when you were about to play?” I asked.
“The curtains of the old armory stage opened, the spot light blinded me, and the show was on!” he explained. “I was so nervous, I really don’t know how I made it to the microphone, but I did.
“We must have done well. A local agent and promoter gave us his card and said if we wanted some work, he could give it to us. We called him three days later and within three months we had twenty songs and were recording and selling records.”
Robert was impacted by the life of Buddy through his musical influence. But he was also deeply impacted by Buddy’s death, perhaps more so than the musician’s short life. The downing of that charter plane left an opportunity for his band to perform, and on that night in Moorhead, Minnesota, 15-year-old Robert Velline and his garage band became Bobby Vee and the Shadows, known today for such hits as “Suzy Baby” and “Take Good Care of My Baby.”
When speaking with Bobby on the phone, I kept thinking about how kind and humble he is. Now in the sixties, Bobby Vee is about as big as you can get yet it felt like I was talking to an old friend. It occurred to me that this is much the same way people described Buddy. Maybe Buddy’s influence for Bobby is more than the music, and included an attitude and way of life.
“I still perform,” Bobby continued. “We did a two and a half year run in Branson, Missouri, and had a ball. I keep going and keep reinventing myself. To stay alive in this business, it’s what you have to do.”
More than five decades later Bobby Vee still graces the airwaves of radio stations all over the world and is often heard back-to-back with his hero, Buddy Holly. Opportunity often rises from the ashes of tragedy, although there is little doubt in my mind that Bobby Vee would change the past if he had the chance to do so.
Buddy’s impact on others is everywhere. Just ask Bobby.