JUST AFTER THANKSGIVING WEEKEND 2001, I BEGAN RECORDING my first album for DreamWorks at Ocean Way Studios in Nashville. The album was produced by Chris Lindsey along with James Stroud. The first song I recorded, while still looking for other songs for the album, was “Sara Smile.” That song, however, didn’t make it onto the first album, but another very special song did.
I HAD SUSPECTED TROUBLE IN PATRICIA’S MARRIAGE AS FAR back as when I was living with Bea. One time, Patricia and her husband were sitting in Bea’s driveway when I noticed a bruise on Patricia’s face.
“Hey, what happened to your face?” I asked.
“Oh, I just bumped it,” Patricia said.
I looked at her suspiciously. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she replied, but I knew she was unwilling to say more in front of Steven. I later learned that throughout their marriage, he had been violently hitting her. A few years after I moved to Nashville, I received a desperate call from Patricia. “I need some help,” she said.
She asked me to come and get her out. “Pack a bag,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
When I learned that Patricia was being abused by her husband, I took the first flight to Charlotte. I had never before flown in an airplane, but I wanted to get there as fast as possible. After landing in Charlotte, I rented a car at the airport and drove like a madman to Patricia’s house.
When I walked in her house, my presence must have surprised her husband. He ran to the bedroom and came back out wielding a gun. “She’s not going anywhere!” he yelled.
“Oh, yes, she is,” I said, and walked Patricia out of the house. He had an easy shot if he wanted it, but fortunately, he didn’t shoot.
Patricia was petrified with fear as she and her son, Brian, got in the car, and I drove them away and set them up in an apartment. Following their divorce, Patricia moved farther away in an effort to keep some distance between her and her abuser, not an easy feat since her former husband was also the father of her son.
A number of months later I was driving through Nashville’s Green Hills area when I received a phone call from Patricia. “He’s found out where I live.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked.
“No,” she said, “I wish he would just stay gone, and I’d be fine.” Her words ripped my heart out, yet they also resonated with me. I wanted to write a song that would encourage her. A songwriter, Billy Kirsch, had contacted me about writing together, so I pitched the idea for the song to him. I had little more than the idea and a melody line, and even on that, I was mimicking Michael McDonald. But Billy caught what I was trying to do, and he sat at the piano and came up with the hook, “Baby, baby, stay . . .” Billy and I wrote the song, and I sent it to Patricia. “I hope this helps,” I wrote in a note to her.
We turned in the song for my producers to consider, and the song tested high. “We’d like you to record it,” Scott Borchetta said. Even before we recorded the other songs on the album, Scott said, “This is going to be your first single.”
The record company released “Stay Gone” to radio in January 2003, and by February 10, it hit the charts, debuting at number thirty-four, with more radio stations adding it to their playlists every day.
Patricia called me, and she was whispering. “I was in the textile mill,” she said, “and the guy on the radio said they are going to play a new song by a hometown boy that he wrote for his sister. So I came out here to the car, and I’m lying down in the seat, hiding from the boss, to listen to it.” About that time, I heard the WSOC deejay’s voice on Patricia’s radio in the background. “Coming up next, we have ‘Stay Gone,’ by Jimmy Wayne.” What an experience! Listening to the song that I had written for Patricia along with her the first time she heard it on the radio—both of us were overcome with emotion, and our tears flowed freely.
“STAY GONE” WENT UP THE CHARTS, ALL THE WAY TO NUMBER three and remained there for three weeks. My music career took off like a bullet, following the song up the Billboard charts.
On March 21, 2003, I performed at the world-famous Grand Ole Opry for the first time. Adding to the excitement and my nervousness, the show was broadcast live on WSM radio. Before I began my first song, I stopped at center stage and said, “Excuse me for a moment, folks. I want to write this down in my journal.” And I did, writing the date and time I first played the world’s longest-running music-based radio show.
In May, I opened a show for Dwight Yoakam in Chicago one night and for Don Williams in Salt Lake City the next. A few weeks later, on June 3, 2003, I performed for the first time on the stage of Nashville’s famous Ryman Auditorium, the original home of the Grand Ole Opry. Playing the Ryman is a dream of every country musician, as well as bands such as Lynyrd Skynyrd, ZZ Top, and the Doobie Brothers. That night I opened for a rising country superstar, Keith Urban.
On Sunday, June 15, 2003, I met Scott Borchetta at DreamWorks, and he handed me a copy of my very first CD. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at some of my own song titles, which included “Stay Gone,” “After You,” and “Paper Angels,” a song based on a story about the paper angels on a mall Christmas tree, alluding to the Angel Tree program that provides gifts to needy children at Christmastime through the Salvation Army—the group that gave me my first guitar. On that same album was another special song, one that Don Sampson helped me to write: “I Love You This Much,” about a boy who sought love from his dad, and although he never found it, he eventually discovered that God’s constant love had been there all the time. As I thought about the unusual way this album of special songs had come together, I realized I was holding my first CD on Father’s Day.
THE EXCITEMENT CONTINUED FOR ME THROUGHOUT THE summer of 2003. In late June, I performed three shows in El Paso and received standing ovations at every show. Then on July 4, I performed again at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, this time backed by the Opry’s amazing musicians.
Midmonth, I opened for Patty Loveless in Atlanta. This was a special concert for me since Patty and I had grown up in the same area. Patty was doing her sound check but stopped right in the middle of it to give me a hug. I was blown away when she said, “Jimmy, I bought your record. It’s great!” We talked briefly about the old days, when she had lived in a brown trailer on Second Street. We had both come a long way.
The very next day, after the concert with Patty in Atlanta, I received word that “Stay Gone” had achieved number one status on the Country Music Television (CMT) network. Considering all the great songs and videos out there, to think that the song I had written for Patricia was the most requested song on CMT was truly humbling and fabulously exciting.
Of course, the music business has its own way of keeping a person humble. While “Stay Gone” was receiving a lot of airplay, I was driving in Nashville one day when a pretty young woman in a BMW convertible sitting at the traffic light glanced over at me in my banged up Honda Civic. Tonia and I had broken up months earlier, so I smiled real big at the woman in the convertible. She rolled her eyes and drove off while singing along to “Stay Gone” on her radio. So much for having a hit song!
With the excitement over the album and the success of “Stay Gone,” the record company scheduled a video shoot for “I Love You This Much” on July 18, 2003. About a week before the shoot, I walked outside my apartment on Music Row and saw a homeless guy in the alley, scavenging for food in one of the large trash bins. His arms were dirty, and I noticed his hands were cut from digging through the garbage. When I saw him, I tried not to make eye contact with him. Too late.
“Hey,” he called out. “Are you Jimmy Wayne?”
Oh, man, I thought. He’s going to ask me for money.
“Yeah, I am,” I answered reluctantly.
He was a large man but had a high-pitched, squeaky voice. “I saw some of your promo posters in the garbage can over there, so I recognized you,” he said. “Can I have your autograph? I heard your song ‘Stay Gone,’ and it really helped me.”
I was intrigued. “Really? How?”
“I lost my wife and kid in a car accident, and the song helped me get through it. You know, when you hurt like that, you want the pain to go away, to stay gone.”
His story touched my heart. “I have to tell you, I wasn’t expecting that from you,” I told him. “I thought you were going to ask me for money. I was trying to ignore you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
“No problem,” the big guy said.
“Stay right here a minute,” I said. “I want to get something.” I went into my apartment and grabbed my journal. I took it back outside and handed it to the homeless man. “Would you do me a favor? Would you sign my journal? I want your autograph.”
He signed my journal and filled an entire page with his musings. At the close, he signed his name, “John.”
I saw John every so often, and he never asked me for anything. One day I saw him outside again. “Hey, Jimmy,” he called. “I got you something,” John said. He pulled out a brand-new journal. “I noticed that the spine of your journal was broken, so I got you a new one.”
I couldn’t believe it. This guy was digging through garbage to survive, and he had gotten me a journal. I thanked him profusely then asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Digging in the dumpster,” he responded.
“Do you think you can get a suit somewhere, and maybe clean up just a bit?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, if you can, I’m shooting a new music video tomorrow, and I want you to be in it.” I gave him the shoot details.
The following day I was standing around a spread of food with a bunch of crew and publicists at the video location, when in walked John—wearing a suit. “Hey, John, great to see you,” I greeted him. “Hey, everybody, this is my friend John.”
“Hey, John,” they all went to great lengths to make him feel welcome, hugging him, blowing air kisses, and offering him food. Nobody knew that John was homeless, so they treated him like a star. John stood around eating finger foods from the same plates as everyone else. I chuckled to myself as I watched some of the “plastic people” hugging a homeless guy who had been digging in the dumpster the day before. We had a great time, and I made sure John was seen in the video of “I Love You This Much.” He did a good job.
Following his appearance in my video, John was asked by various producers to do other videos. Because of his large physical size, he made an appearance in the audience of the television show The Biggest Loser. He actually started making some money.
A few months later I saw John again. “I got ya something,” he told me. “I was at the Johnny Cash estate sale, and I bought this for you.” He handed me an old suitcase. Unbelievable. The guy who had been digging in the dumpster handed me a suitcase that had once belonged to Johnny Cash. “I can’t believe you took a chance on me,” he said.
“John, I really didn’t do anything,” I said.
“Yes, you did. Being in your video gave me a new start in life,” he told me. “And I just want to say thanks.”
I WAS STILL ON A ROLL THROUGHOUT JULY AND AUGUST 2003. I opened for Vince Gill a couple of nights in Boston and received standing ovations both nights. Attending one of the shows was rock-and-roll icon Steven Tyler. He was obviously there to hear Vince, but I was thrilled to meet him.
A few weeks later the video for “I Love You This Much” debuted at number one on CMT, as the most requested song of the week. That was incredible, but even more meaningful to me was a letter I received from a fellow in Indianapolis. He wrote:
Jimmy,
I just want to let you know your music has made a difference in my life. I was down on life, my wife had left me for another man after 21 years together, and we have a 4-year-old son that means so much to me. I started thinking about suicide. I bought the gun, rope, pills, and so on to do this when I was alone, since nothing was stopping me. Not the thought of family, friends, my son—nothing.
On Sunday evening, November 9th, I had the plan to go ahead. I sat on my couch in the living room with my gun in my hand from 1:00 a.m. till Monday morning at 7:45, but I never did it. I turned my TV on, and your video came on: “I Love You This Much,” and I saw the little boy with his arms wide open, saying does my Daddy love me, and I just stopped and stared at my TV. I watched the whole thing and cried so hard, asking myself why I was even trying to do this. Really silly on my part, because he is a great kid, and smart. . . .
I bought your CD, and it is great. All the music on it hits my heart and soul. You really did save my life that day. And when I get that thought, I play that song over and over, and it keeps me here with him . . . so Jimmy, keep up the good songwriting and singing. You really did save my life.
That letter reminded me why I wanted to become a musician, and it really helped put the business in perspective for me.
NEVERTHELESS, NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY TO MAINTAIN perspective, the music business will change you, and success in the music business will change you even more. Before I knew it, I got caught up in it, as do so many others. After a while I started believing my own press and thinking I really was something special. The label didn’t mind; I was selling about ten thousand units a week, and it was making money, which seemed to be all that mattered. But God had some interesting ways of keeping me humble.
For instance, when I appeared at an event sponsored by WQYK, featuring Charlie Daniels, in Tampa Bay, people in the crowd were screaming their heads off, and I was eating it up. Then I looked over and saw a Jumbotron showing a replay of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers scoring a touchdown. I thought the fans had been cheering for me!
To add to my swelling ego, in September 2003, I was selected to team up with world-class photographer Russ Harrington to do a photo shoot for People magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” issue. Russ is known as a photographer to the stars and has photographed everyone, from Faith Hill to Loretta Lynn to Reba McEntire to Alan Jackson to Alison Krauss to Brooks and Dunn. I never had considered myself sexy, so I felt awkward and wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to look. But Russ’s professionalism helped ease my concerns, and instead of looking silly, by trying to pose in some provocative way, Russ posed me fully clothed, in a tasteful manner, and the photos turned out fairly well. When the issue came out in December that year, I was surprised to see myself in the same magazine as George Clooney, Johnny Depp, and others.
The week the magazine hit the stands, I was on a flight and seated right next to an attractive woman who was looking at a copy of the issue. She was flipping through the magazine, and when she came to George Clooney’s photo, it appeared that she was almost salivating. She stared at George for what seemed like five minutes. I wondered how she might respond when she realized that she was sitting right next to one of the so-called sexiest men in America. I thought, Any minute now, the oxygen mask is going to fall from the ceiling, and I’m going to have to resuscitate this lady. She’s almost kissing the pages. She caressed the photos of George Clooney and Johnny Depp, and I continued watching her, thinking, Any second now, she’s going to turn the page and get to me. She finally flipped to my picture, barely gave it a quick glance, and quickly turned the page. No need for any mouth-to-mouth. That was a much-needed reality check for me.
2003 WAS A GREAT YEAR FOR ME. “STAY GONE” WON AN award for being the most played song in the music business that year, in all genres. “I Love You This Much” was also a top ten hit, while two other songs on my first album, “Paper Angels” and “You Are,” made the top twenty.
The following year, “Paper Angels” was one of the most played songs during the Christmas season. The song was the highest charting seasonal track in country music history, surpassing the record set by Dolly Parton’s “Hard Candy Christmas” in 1982. The video we made depicting the storyline of the song was so helpful in promoting the Salvation Army’s Angel Tree program that I was honored by the Salvation Army as the youngest person ever to receive the William Booth Award for my efforts to help needy children.
Life was looking good for me. Like a kite darting ever higher in the sky, my career continued to rise; but what I didn’t know, and was about to find out, was that the people holding the strings were coming down.