My biggest regret is that I never got to meet or know Sam and Kirk McGee. I had always heard of them, but I never actually saw them play until I saw a Wilburn Brothers rerun in about 2005. As soon as they finished their piece, “Victor Rag” as I recall, I bolted off the couch and told the kids: “That’s what I’m trying to do!”
They looked at me funny. “Poor dad.” I don’t think they got it. I got every CD of them I could find, each one was a little more intriguing. Their virtuosity was cool, of course. But I could tell there was more to them than that. They reminded me a lot of my great-uncles on my dad’ side, the mountain boys of southern Missouri and northern Arkansas. They even looked and
talked like them. I could tell these guys were old school. Country boys who didn’t quit their days jobs. Just loved the music — just like me. Through the McGees, I learned about old Uncle Dave Macon. Now there’s a guy not trying to be like anyone else! And, of course, Fiddlin’ Arthur Smith, the coolest fiddler of his time (kind of a jazzy influence, to my ear). And the Delmore Brothers (poor boys from my mother’s people’s home state of Alabama). The Dixieliners, a popular band of the 1930s were Smith and, depending on the occasion, the McGees or the Delmores. Generally, it was the McGees for a live show and the Delmores for recordings.
Later, I turned onto the sounds of Elizabeth Cotton’s fingerstyle guitar, Etta Baker, the story and styles of the great Mance Liscomb (who lived
just a few miles down the road from me in Navasota), and Mississippi John Hurt. Did it their way. Was I listening? Did I get it? Finally.
Of course, we are blessed now with some cool people today who really keep the roots music flame going — Ricky Scaggs, Marty Stuart, Del McCourey.
God bless them all. But the McGees were the most fascinating to me. Mr. Sam did guitar, banjo and the six-string banjo, the banjitar, just like me. I love to play
banjitar in addition to my guitar, and people are always intrigued by it? Is it a banjo or not? Yes and no. Mr. Kirk could play fiddle, guitar, banjo and mandolin. God just puts his hand on some people. Their father was quite a fiddler too, I have heard. Uncle Dave stumbled onto them by accident about 1923 when he came
through Frankin, Tennessee. Stayed at Sam’s and saw a guitar over in the corner. When asked if he could play, Sam obliged with “Missouri Waltz,”
and Uncle Dave was blown away. Soon Mr. Sam was touring with Uncle Dave and his fiddler Sid Harkreader — and entering guitar and banjo contests. The story goes that Sam beat Uncle Dave in one of the banjo contests, and Uncle Dave made him swear not to tell it.
Mr. Sam told his story later about playing in front of large crowds at school houses with virtually no adversiting. Just word of mouth. Later they all got on the radio for the WSM Barn Dance, just a local radio program in nearby Nashville. Soon the Grand Old Opry was heard all over the place. Sam and Kirk, and Uncle Dave, were famous. Here’s the part I loved. They stayed close to home, got on about their lives, and didn’t get big headed about it all. There were other things in their lives
besides music. Mr. Sam had a farm to take care of, and I have heard he was quite a blacksmith. That probably kept him busy six days a week, until he drove into town from Franklin on Saturday to play the Opry. The guys were very loyal to the Opry. Mr. Sam played there 50 years, until he died in a tractor accident in 1975. Mr. Kirk kept on until his death in 1983.
If you have never heard them, google their name and check out their
music. It is always worth it.