One of the great county archivists and historians in the South is Bob Duncan of Maury County, Tennessee. Bob is a living encyclopedia on a fascinating middle Tennessee town of antebellum houses, tall tale tellers, and a blossoming arts and music community.
photo by Kathie Fuston
One of the best articles Bob has written was his tribute to the late Phil Everly — an article published by Columbia’s Daily Herald subsequently posted and shared by several on Facebook:
Today would have been Phil Everly’s birthday
Seventy-five years ago today Phil Everly was born in Chicago. His brother, Don, was two.
Phil Everly visited the archives on numerous occasions – here he made a generous contribution for the conservation of the Antoinette Polk flag.
Who could have guessed that these two would become the top-selling musical artists in the world while they were both still teenagers? With Phil’s death a few weeks back, the tributes flew fast and thick about what the Everly Brothers had done for the music business, and for aspiring musicians. Their voices, and their perfect harmony had propelled them to the top of the charts out of the depths of obscurity. Everybody, and I mean everybody, knew about the Everly Brothers.
Phil and Don traveled the world. They met with the great and powerful. Paul McCartney paid a great compliment when he said that Phil Everly was his idol and his inspiration. They were even more popular in Great Britain. As time went on they had their ups and downs, but they never went completely out of style. Their concerts were typically sold-out right up to the end when they did their last tour with Simon and Garfunkel.
In about the year 2000 I got a phone call from an Englishman named Tony Newman. He was the drummer for the Everly Brothers at the time, and he had lived here in Columbia, on South High, for several years. He told me that Phil Everly was moving to Columbia and had bought the old “Forrest’s Headquarters” house on West Ninth Street. Tony asked if I could give them both a rundown on the history of the old house. It was good news indeed that Mr. Everly planned to completely restore the home as it was in bad repair.
We met with Phil and his wife, Patti, along with Tony Newman and his wife, Toril. Also in attendance were Assistant Police Chief Ray Messick, and his wife, Diane. Since we were all going to be neighbors it seemed fitting. You never know what you’ll get when dealing with the rich and famous. I was dreading the possibility that Mr. Everly might be pompous and overbearing. After all, he was beyond normal fame, and had every right to be proud of his accomplishments. Still, I prepared my best story about Bedford Forrest and the Galloway house that he had purchased.
To my delight, I found Phil Everly to be one of the best, down-to-earth men that I have ever known. He was gracious, humble, and maybe even a little shy. He listened carefully as I spun my web of battles, knife and gun fights and hot, spilled soup. He laughed at all the right parts, asked many questions, and made everyone around him feel right at home. He also had a lot of questions about how to go about restoring his new home.
Over the next few years I made many trips to the Everly home to talk about which parts of the house were original, and what had been added. Ray and Diane became great friends with Patti and Phil, and a few weeks ago when Phil passed away Diane was once of the first people she called.
It became a common sight to see the Everly’s at the lumber yard, or the paint store, or buying window shades. Lots of local fans commented on seeing them around town, and how they behaved as if they had lived here all their lives. Phil enjoyed going to Central High School football games. He told me that, because of his early success, he had missed out on that part of his life, and that he enjoyed watching the kids in the stands as much as the game. He and Patti attended lots of local events, and enjoyed our hometown flavor.
I once asked Phil to go with me to Susan Manning’s choral class to speak to the kids about a career in music. Phil looked at me with trepidation in his eyes, and asked, “What the heck am I going to tell them?”
I remember grinning at his apparent discomfort, and saying, “Maybe you could tell them how to get paid for singing?” He was a bit nervous when we went in, but he quickly warmed to his task, and he charmed the kids.
They repaid him by singing something that one of their members had written, and they, in turn, charmed him. As we left, it was his turn to grin as he said, “I have been dreading this – but it was really fun!” As we drove back to his house, he went on and on about what a great bunch of kids they were.
And now I miss Phil Everly, but not so much the famous Phil Everly. I miss the Phil Everly who was my friend and neighbor. I miss the Phil Everly who had a quick joke, and a quicker laugh. I miss the Phil Everly grin and the Phil Everly grace and charm. He was one of my historical co-conspirators, and was an eager listener to my tales of long ago.
Happy birthday, Phil. I just wish that you were still here to enjoy it.
