Looking Back to See: A Country Music Memoir

7. We Get Screwed

We Get Screwed When we returned to the tour in Boise,Fabor acted as though nothing had happened. J. E. kept blaming himself for everything, all our troubles and my getting food poisoning. I blamed that devil Fabor. God, how we hated that SOB.We stayed pretty much to ourselves for the rest of the tour, except for traveling and sightseeing with Jim and Mary when we had a few hours off. One day,Fabor came to us and said he had something to discuss. He had his official face on, and I knew from experience that he was fixing to unload some bad business on us. Sure enough, I was right. He’d been in touch with his business office in California,he said,and there was some trouble over our song,“Looking Back To See.”The song was still on the charts after having stayed near the top for a long time.We weren’t so green that we didn’t know we had some royalties coming. “I’m afraid the royalties on that song will be tied up for a long time,” Fabor said.“There’s a lawsuit against you.” “Lawsuit?” J. E. and I said at the same time.“What are you talking about?” Fabor had a shit-eating look on his face.“Do you know somebody named Charles Davidson?” he inquired. “Why,yes,we do.”I said.“Charles is the manager of the Barnyard Frolic back in Little Rock.” The thought that Charles was in any position to take credit for our music just about floored me. He had never written a song in his life.He had weaseled his way into the Frolic,where he mostly just got in people’s way. “Did you ever get the song copyrighted?” Fabor asked. No, we hadn’t, we admitted. I guess Charles knew that and saw his chance to jump a claim.We argued with Fabor a long time.There 65 7 would never be a problem of proving the song was ours, because Shelby and Sarah Jane Cooper could verify everything we said. At that moment we were so mad that if we’d been around Charles Davidson we would have given him the going-over he deserved. “Now, don’t you kids worry,” Fabor went on, getting that sickening “father” tone in his voice.“You’ll get your royalties. I guarantee it. But you’ll have to get yourselves a lawyer.” So we called home and told Daddy the whole sorry story.At first he was going to go and take care of Charles himself,but we convinced him that would only complicate our rightful claim. So Daddy hired the best—and most expensive—lawyer in Pine Bluff.We’d have to wait until we got home to settle the stupid claim. For the rest of the tour we were down and blue. At last, the long tour was over. We all met at Jim and Mary Reeves’s house in Shreveport to settle up. Everybody was just about worn out, relieved to have the hard journey completed and feeling pretty good about the big money we’d all be getting.When Fabor walked in,looking as serious as the chairman of the Edsel Company, we knew something bad was on us again. “Well, first of all,” Fabor started,“you people didn’t draw a fraction of the crowds you should have. My God, the expenses you ran up.” “Cut the crap, Fabor,” Jim Reeves said.“Get to the money.” But Fabor wouldn’t discuss the money,not at first.He wanted to criticize each and every one of us first.He started in on J.E.and me, bringing up the fact that we had missed a lot of shows,hadn’t pulled our weight and had even walked out on the tour. I thought J. E. was going to tear into him right then and there.I noticed,too,that Fabor’s little sweetie was nowhere to be seen.He probably had her holed up in some plush suite to spare her this ordeal. Finally,Fabor said he’d give us all the money we had coming.I’ve never forgotten the mad and sullen look he kept on his face.He missed his calling in California.He should have been one of those nasty producers with a casting couch.He handed J.E.some folded money.When J. E. counted it, it came to only $234. Not twenty thousand or even...