In the fall of 1987, Wilkes Community College Dean of Resource Development, Frederick W. 'B' Townes, and others approached Doc Watson with an idea to dedicate a memorial garden to his late son and musical partner. Funding for the project was to be raised through a benefit concert including many of acoustic music's most respected artists, many of whom had recorded and preformed with Merle. Thus were the humble beginnings of what has become the premier Americana music festival, the Eddy 'Merle' Watson Memorial Festival, or as it is has become known 'Merlefest.'
Michael: When Merlefest was established, did you have any idea it would become one of the premier festivals for Americana music?
Doc: I don't think anybody had any such idea. It was planned as a one-time thing. They decided to do one more year, and it just began to mushroom. The next year, they decided to make it an annual event. The North Wilkesboro community and Wilkes County never thought it would bring in the money and commerce that it has, especially for that particular time of year. For instance, all of the motels for miles are full for that weekend. What amazes me is the efficiency with which it's run. It's the volunteers that make it run, under the tutelage of Brother B. Townes. People come there for fellowship as well as for music. It was started with THAT idea in mind. We wanted it to be family oriented. You can bring your children and you don't have to worry about them. We provide entertainment for the little ones as well as the adults.
Michael: Do you believe it has become a fitting memorial to Merle?
Doc: Yes, in many ways it has. Merle's friends came voluntarily, for free, to help get it off the ground. It's been that way ever since. There's a core group that is here every year and they are the ones that helped start it.
Arthel 'Doc' Watson was born in Deep Gap (formerly Stoney Fork Township), North Carolina on March 3, 1923. From early on, Doc's life in the rugged land of the Blue Ridge Mountains shaped his core values and beliefs. Music was an integral part of life for the mountain people populating the Appalachian region, and Doc's family was no exception. An early childhood affliction robbed Doc of his sight, but not his ability to appreciate the aspects of country life, including the gift of music.
Michael: Was music a part of your family's household when you were growing up?
Doc: From the time I can remember anything musical, or that had a musical sound like a bell or things of that nature, had an affect on me. Momma sang around the house. My dad was the singing leader at the church from the time I can remember to the time he died. He led the little country church choir. We didn't have a piano, organ or anything. My first instrument, as such, was a little harmonica...like the twenty reed, ten-hole things you can get now but that are priced way out of proportion. You could buy one for a quarter or fifty cents when I was a little boy. Dad bought me one of those when I was about six years old. He told me a little about the notes on it and how they work. He said, 'You've heard me sing the notes out of the songbook like Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Ti, Do (Doc begins to sing). This thing has notes on it just like I sing.' He showed me how they sounded, then laughed and said, 'Now, some of them you push and some of them you pull.' He went on to tell me once I figured out how to find each note, it's kind of like whistling. 'You learn to note it with your tongue and get a real nice sound out of it.' He showed me how that sounded. I had the harmonica around off and on until the time I was eleven, when he made a homemade banjo. When I was about thirteen, my brother borrowed a guitar from one of our cousins. I was fooling with it one morning while dad was finishing his last cup of coffee before he went to work. He said, 'Son, if you learn to play a tune on that thing by the time I get back from work this evening, I'll go to town with you on Saturday and we'll find you a little guitar of your own.' What he didn't know is that a friend of mine, Paul Montgomery, had already taught me a few chords. I could play and sing 'When the Roses Bloom in Dixieland' when he got home that night (laughter). So, he had to keep his word.
Young Arthel Watson made the best of his father's present. Throughout the fifties, Doc (as he was nicknamed at an early radio performance) helped support his family playing electric guitar in a dance band and through local performances. He had married into another musical family when he wed Rosa Lee Carlton, daughter of old-time fiddler and banjo picker Gaither Carlton. Some of Doc's early performances with family members and other old-timers such as Clarence Ashley are documented and available through Smithsonian Folkways. Renowned musicologist Ralph Rinzler heard Doc's stellar guitar work in the early sixties and convinced Doc that a market existed for his talents in the booming folk revival. Yet Doc realized the decision to pursue a music career would take him away from his family and his beloved Deep Gap for lengthy periods. On the other hand, he knew the opportunity presented by Rinzler and the folk revival would allow him to support his family in proper fashion. Pragmatism won out, so Doc was soon headed away from home and into American music history.
Michael: Please tell us about your first professional job.
Doc: That would have been Gertie's Folk City in New York, doing solo work in a coffeehouse. I think they had a little bar situation somewhere in the area of the listening room. Usually the audiences were orderly. My first professional trip was with the old-timer Clarence Ashley and his friends, Fred Price and Clint Howard. We went to L.A. and played the Ashgrove in 1962. We played there about two weeks, I believe.
Michael: Is this around the time you performed with Jean Ritchie?
Doc: Jean Ritchie came into Gertie's when I was working there. She and I split the bill on one of the trips I did. Her husband recorded the sets. That's how that recording happened.
Michael: In 1995 you recorded the 'Docabilly' album, recalling the early guitar styles you played during the fifties.
Doc: I worked with a local dance band. We didn't do any hit records or hot TV shows. I played an electric guitar through that period, but I cut my teeth on a good ol' flat-top guitar. I went back to it when I was introduced to the folk revival by Ralph Rinzler.
Michael: How did Ralph Rinzler convince you there was a market for your music in the folk revival?
Doc: There are some other ingredients that went into this, besides my love of the music, that are just as important. Perhaps they are more important, because I didn't have another trade at the time. The rehabilitation center wanted me to peddle things out of the stand somewhere on a street corner and move away from the area I love, and I wouldn't do it. I'd rather play a little music on the street, where I could make more money and have some freedom. When Ralph came along, I wasn't making much money with that local dance band. The jobs maybe paid fifty to seventy dollars per dance. By the time you paid your expenses for traveling to the dance and the rest was split between five guys, you didn't have much. Ralph Rinzler came down here with Eugene Earl. Ralph at the time was a member of a bluegrass group, The Greenbrier Boys. He was also one of the finest musicologists in the land. He persuaded me, after he heard me play, that I had something to offer to the folk revival. I was skeptical about it, but I told Ralph I'd try it because I needed to make a living of some kind. I loved the music. I believed it was one thing, if I worked at it, I could learn. I didn't know if people would sit still and listen to an ol' boy sit in a chair, pick a guitar and try to sing a little bit or not, but I agreed to try it. He helped me a lot in the beginning.
Under Rinzler's tutlelage, Doc learned the intricacies of life as a professional musician. Audiences were thrilled by the flatpicking artistry displayed by the unknown gentleman from Appalachia. What couldn't have been known was Doc's savvy as an entertainer. This winning combination of talent and personality helped thrust him into the spotlight of the folk revival. Doc's teenage son Merle had learned to play the guitar while the elder Watson was away on his first solo concert tour. Doc's voice still radiates pride as he describes his son's multi-faceted talents and their unique relationship.
Michael: When did Merle begin to follow in your footsteps as a musician?
Doc: Ralph traveled with me on the road until 1964 when our son Merle decided, with his mother's help, he was going to learn some chords on a guitar and learn to play. At Easter time that year, he started working with the guitar. By the time I came back from my first solo concert tour...I left March 17th and I got back home on the 22nd of May...he was doing a bunch of finger-style work, playing the main theme of 'Never on Sunday' and all kinds of things. I just couldn't believe he had learned that much. If I could've learned guitar that fast, I could brag a little. Merle stuck by me through all of the dues paying days. He wasn't just a good son, but a mighty good friend.
Michael: Would you recall some of the highlights of working with Merle?
Doc: I think playing Carnegie Hall the first time was special. They gave us such an ovation, we had to go back and do an encore when we weren't supposed to. There are two other things that stand out. For the album 'Southbound,' Merle had only been playing a short time. He played over half the lead guitar on the album. I couldn't believe that. Oh, man, I was REALLY proud of him. It was wonderful to be a part of that. The next thing was the live album, 'Doc Watson on Stage.' Merle and I played one concert at Cornell University and another concert at the town hall in New York City. They made a double album with selections from those two concerts. That is one of my pride and joys as an album. We've done some good albums. The last one with Merle was 'Down South,' which he produced.
Merle was indeed a prodigious student of many guitar styles, as well as banjo. Yet the younger Watson shared more than talent with his father. Merle soon found out about the drudgery of life on the road. It is doubtful that either father or son would have ever pursued the professional musician's lifestyle had circumstances been different. But their musical partnership did allow Doc to have a part of his family with him despite the nomadic existence he was required to persevere.
Michael: Did having Merle on the road with you make being away from home easier?
Doc: An AWFUL lot easier, even though I missed my daughter, Nancy, and my wife, Rosa Lee. It made it a lot easier because I had a little part of home with me. He was someone who cared enough to treat you like an equal, but at the same time gave the care I needed.
Michael: The title track of the Vanguard album 'Southbound' was written by Merle. In the song he describes, in no uncertain terms, his disdain for the city and life on the road. What was it like for Merle being away from home during those early tours?
Doc: He hated it as bad as I did (laughter). Being away from home is the real job. Playing for a good audience is fairly easy, unless the stage is too hot. The music and a good audience are great rewards. What you earn to take care of your family is icing on the cake. We have to live. Someone once said to me, 'Oh you're just in it for the money.' I almost hit him. How could you feed a family or give them a place to live without some money?
The Watson family and acoustic music fans everywhere suffered the tragic loss of Eddy Merle Watson in October 1985. Facing the death of a loved one is always difficult, especially when a parent loses a child. Doc lost not only his son, but his musical partner, caretaker on the road and best friend. Most fans know Merle lost his life in a farming accident, yet Doc shed more light on this highly personal and sensitive subject.
Doc: Michael, I'm going to tell you this...it hasn't been printed much and most people don't know. Merle had a brain tumor that very probably caused him to get killed. We found the diagnosis slip he was to give to the family doctor, but he never did. He knew most assuredly we'd try to pet him, and he wanted to be in my show just as long as he could. Rosa Lee found this in his files about six months after his death. It was inoperable. It probably caused him to black out or have a massive stroke according to the specialist. It was a loss that we'll never get over. The only way to heal is to go to the other side where Merle is.
Doc briefly retired as an active touring musician following the loss of his son. After allowing some time to pass, Doc returned to the concert stage accompanied by guitarist Jack Lawrence and longtime bassist T. Michael Coleman. Doc and Jack continue to play today as a duo. In addition, Doc has recently began working with Merle's son, Richard. 'Third Generation Blues' was released last year on Sugar Hill Records, showcasing Doc in fine form accompanied by the blues guitar stylings of Richard Watson and T. Michael Coleman's tasty bass lines.Michael: Since the late eighties, Jack Lawrence has been your on-stage partner. Can you tell us a bit about Jack, and enlighten people that may mistake Jack as just your sideman.
Doc: Jack Lawrence, when he finished high school, got into bluegrass music. He's been picking around the country. There was a short period of time when he and Joe Smothers did a duo act on the road. Merle had introduced Jack to me when we were playing a show at Davison College. He got Jack to pinch hit for him on a couple of jobs when he wanted to be off the road. I got Jack to stay on with me because I needed someone who knew the country. I think he's lived in half of the towns east of the Rockies. He knows the road pretty well. He's a good man on the road. He always respects and looks after me. He knows I don't demand help for the things I don't need help with. For instance, in the motel rooms the patterns are usually similar and he knows I'll figure them out in a few minutes. If something's out of the ordinary then he'll show me. Jack, is just a good man to be out there with me. Jack always holds his own in the other seat next to me. He'll always do three or four songs off his solo album, and the audience likes Jack's flashiness on the guitar.
Michael: Last year saw the release of your first album with your grandson Richard, 'Third Generation Blues.' Does it seem, to you, Richard has inherited Merle's love and feel for the blues?
Doc: He has one of Merle's styles in hand. Goodness, he loves the music and tries awfully hard. We're contemplating another album. We just haven't started the homework on it yet. We'll start on the groundwork for it this year.
Doc Watson remains today as one of the finest performers of American music. While some associated Doc with bluegrass, his approach is truly a melting pot of old-time mountain music, folk, jazz and popular music styles. In addition, Merle Watson was lauded as one of premier practitioners of finger-style blues and slide guitar. While bluegrass is a part of the Watson aural arsenal, their music will always be the standard bearer for what has become the art of Americana. Anyone who has been lucky enough to experience a Doc Watson concert comes away in awe of the troubadour from Appalachia. More importantly, they may come away with new respect and understanding of the traditions of rural America. In any case, the event is always entertaining and fun for all ages.
Michael: People often, mistakenly, describe your music as bluegrass. How would you describe the music of Doc Watson to someone who has not heard it?
Doc: Traditional music, or whatever we want to play in our own style (laughter). I don't particularly, unless it's for fun, try to copy anyone. I just pick like I play. Once in a while, I'll fool around with licks that Smitty Smith played with Ernest Tubb. He played some jazzy, country guitar that I dearly love. I don't play exact Chet Atkins style because I can't. I don't play the exact Travis style, either. I guess I could learn most of the chords Merle Travis played, but I didn't attempt to. I just play a simple version of a finger style guitar...one finger and one thumb (laughter).
Michael: What is it about traditional music that has such appeal across not just continents but across generations?
Doc: I cannot answer that question, unless it's the naturalness of it. There are very few people, even city folks, who care nothing about nature. Traditional music is akin, in a sense, to nature. Most of us love nature...the woods, the birds and good fresh air and the whole bit.
Michael: I think one thing that makes your concerts so pleasant is that you have a very relaxed demeanor on stage. It makes the audience feel like they're in your living room.
Doc: I've finally learned to be myself, instead of trying to be something more formal. I just couldn't do that. I let whatever I am be my stage presence. I'm awful glad people enjoy that because they don't feel like I'm talking or playing down to them. Rather that I'm right down there with them which is the way it should be, especially with the kind of music I do.
Michael: People underestimate how difficult it is for musicians on the road.
Doc: Some of them don't make enough to survive, hardly. It is a wonderful thing when you can just be yourself and earn a decent living. Sometimes I marvel at it. I think of myself as nothing special. I'm just me, and the music I do, people love...I'm extremely thankful for that.