Family Soundtracks
Music, Memory, and Inspiration in My Fiction
As the daughter of a radio disc jockey and having many family members in singing groups and bands of various kinds, music has always had a large presence in my life, so naturally, it has been an inspiration in my fiction.
My great-uncle Arval was one of the Whitey and Hogan duo who toured the southeast, made their radio debut in the 1930s, and recorded on Decca Records. Beginning in 1941, they lead The Briarhoppers, the house band for WBT Radio in Charlotte, NC.
They turned down an invitation to the Grand Ole Opry, which surprised me until I learned the reason. Accepting would have meant they’d be away from their families on Saturdays, and to them, the separation wasn’t worth the accolades—for sure, a laudable reason to rob me of my bragging rights. In 2003, they were given the North Carolina Arts Council Folk Heritage Award.
My second cousin, Arval’s granddaughter Kristin Scott Benson, carries on his music-making legacy as one of the country’s top banjo pickers. She has won the International Bluegrass Music Association’s Banjo Player of the Year award SIX (!!) times and, in 2018, was awarded the Steve Martin Prize for Excellence in Banjo and Bluegrass.
Uncle Arval’s brother, my Papaw Hogan, was a preacherman and through my childhood, he, my Granny Hogan, and their various offspring comprised The Hogan Family, performing in Papaw’s church, at revivals, and anywhere else gospel music was welcome.
My Aunt Jan, who could listen to any song once and then play it perfectly on the piano, was among them. Until recently, My Uncle Jimmy continued picking and singing with a group called the Fishers of Men.
These are just a few of the family members I’ve been blessed with who have a penchant for song and a talent with instruments. The most direct musical influence in my family, though, has been my father, who spun records “on the air” for more than 50 years, beginning when he took his first job behind a microphone at age fifteen.
Many of my afterschool hours were spent with him inside the studio where he played those records and backstage at the shows he emcee’d. Little Gina was delighted when she learned that emcee = MC = Master of Ceremonies. My daddy is a Master!
He has played, met, introduced, and interviewed more performers than I can possibly name and was among the first broadcasters to attend the Country Music Association Awards when they began in the late 1960s. He has a great story about 14-year-old Tanya Tucker approaching him in the lobby of the hotel where the radio D.J.s were staying for the awards, asking him if he’d play her new record, “Delta Dawn.”
My Pop has hundreds of stories like this and is a fount of information about the radio biz and music overall, so fortunately, after he retired, he podcasted about it for a spell, with his radio buddy Randy Houston. They’ve given us historical record of a musical snapshot in time.
I often regret that in my childhood and teens, I didn’t give music more attention. Papaw tried to teach me guitar once and I took piano lessons for a year or so, but I just couldn’t get it. Guess I didn’t get that gene. My dad claims he didn’t either, but clearly, music runs in his veins, just in a different fashion. I only wish I’d paid more attention to all of it in my younger days, so I could’ve retained more of the stories that are now gone with the people who made them.
What I do have—and am cultivating further—is a deep appreciation for it, particularly for the history, the roots of Appalachian music. Some of us are meant to simply be the listeners, the admirers, the enthusiasts of music, it's history and its out-turns.
Like my Uncle Charlie . . . When I visited him over the 2023 Christmas holidays, he led me to his basement where he proudly displays his 1970s console stereo that I’m certain has entertained him with untold hours of tunes. I was gleeful at this unexpected encounter with a tangible replica of the stereo that the main characters in my novel have in their apartment.
Gwen and Libby’s stereo and an eclectic selection of records originally belonged to Libby’s deceased father, Carter Billings. Elvis, Frank Sinatra, Aretha Franklin, The Doors, and Miles Davis are among the collection. In Chapter 8, “Nosy Neighbors,” Libby listens from her bedroom as Gwen flips through the records and drops an album onto the turntable. Marvin Gaye’s “You Don’t Know What Love Is” shows up in Chapter 9, “Carter’s Eyes.”
The stereo appears in other chapters, too. The only difference between Gwen and Libby’s stereo and my Uncle Charlie’s is that, in addition to the turntable, my uncle’s has a reel-to-reel tape player inside. Have you ever seen one of these?
When Charlie showed me his prized console, I had major flashbacks to the mid 1970s. My mom and stepdad had a similar one, too. My younger brother and I would pull out the Captain and Tenille album “Love Will Keep Us Together,” drop the record on the turntable, and sing at the top of our lungs while dancing around the living room. I was 15, and my brother was only 6, but he knew every single word of that entire album. Sweet memories.
Having such an abundance of musical influence in my life, it feels right that music-related motifs are interwoven throughout my novel: the records Gwen listens to, Nate’s saxophone skills, the D.J. who lives in the apartment upstairs, gospel music at the Kent Creek churches, Denny’s 8-track player, and most significantly, The Royal Jade music club itself, which is very loosely based on the real Orange Peel in my hometown of Asheville, NC. I can’t wait to share more of the story with you.
Has music played a significant role in your life? Can you sing or play an instrument? When you were growing up, what was your fav music and how did you listen? on a stereo? phonograph/ record player? vinyl, 8-track, cassette, CD? transistor or car radio?
See how this post relates to my novel Dancing at The Royal Jade by checking out Chapter 8, "Nosy Neighbors and Chapter 9, "Carter's Eyes."
This post first appeared on my Substack publication.
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