Mark Dankof's America

     2008 will be remembered as a year of major downturn in the fortunes of the people of the United States and the American Republic. In my next post for Al Bawaba, I will proffer the reasons why I believe the incoming Obama Administration’s mantra for "change" will prove an unfulfilled one in 2009. USS Liberty survivor Phil Tourney and I will discuss these reasons this coming Sunday on the Republic Broadcasting Network. Stay tuned.

     No symbol of the downturn in the fortunes of an America long gone matches the May 2008 departure of my old friend, Eddy Arnold. Once dubbed The Tennessee Plowboy and America’s Ambassador of Country Music, Mr. Arnold departed this present world as a denizen of a nursing home outside of Nashville. His wife, Sally, preceded him in death by two months.

     I invite you to read the tribute paid to this great man and singer by The New York Times in the wake of his passing. His professional accomplishments are too numerous to chronicle here, but they include Billboard Magazine’s acknowledgment that Arnold was the leading country music record seller of all time; USA Today’s characterization of him as "the most commercially successful country western artist in history"; and CMT’s amazing post this past year that noted, unbelievably, that Arnold’s last RCA single, 2005's "To Life," charted after his death. Take note: with this last accomplishment, Eddy Arnold became the only recording artist in history to issue a charted single in each of seven–yes, seven–decades. Not Crosby, Sinatra, Como, Williams, Bennett, Pavarotti, Domingo, or any other singing legend that might come to mind, but a fellow from rural Tennessee born Richard Edward Arnold on May 15, 1918.

     I experienced a personal tragedy and setback right after graduation from college in 1977. Unbeknownst to me, two college friends decided to take in the Eddy Arnold show at that time at suburban Chicago’s Mill Run Theatre. The legendary singer decided to hang around after the concert, to pose gratis for photos and to sign programs. My friends mentioned to him that their own enjoyment of his live show came courtesy of my recommendation of his music and stage presence. My temporary setback was also mentioned in the context of the conversation that night in the theatre.

     Some days later, at my home in San Antonio, a manila envelope appeared in my mailbox. It had no return address. When I opened the envelope, there was a lengthy letter of encouragement addressed to me by Eddy Arnold, along with a personalized signed portrait identical to the one seen in the singer’s own study as chronicled in a media photo of the superstar taken by USA Today in 2002. The letter now resides in a safe deposit box in an undisclosed location.

     Several years later, I became a one year resident in a Lutheran seminary in Berkeley, California. That fall, the San Francisco Chronicle entertainment section listed the incoming acts for several months at Harrah’s main showroom in Reno. One of them was Eddy Arnold.

     It seemed important that I see the show. I flew from San Francisco to Reno for the day. Upon arrival in Reno, I spent most of the afternoon at the largest gun museum in the world, followed by a self directed tour of Harrah’s gambling casino, a place out of my league and element. That night, I had a front dinner table seat at the Eddy Arnold show.

     I had written a brief note of thanks to Arnold for his kind letter of 1977 before the show, subsequently slipped to a Harrah’s concierge with the assurance the singer would receive the note after the performance. After the show’s conclusion, I began following the crowd out of the showroom, noting that I had a comfortable 3 hours to kill at the Reno airport before returning to San Francisco.

     There was a tap on my shoulder. It was the concierge. I was initially startled, then dumbfounded when he indicated that Mr. Arnold was requesting my presence backstage. I followed the concierge through a maze of security and several hallways, only to surreally find myself in the singing leviathan’s dressing room.

     I do not remember how many minutes we talked that night. I do remember later departing for the airport thinking that I had been in the presence of something indefinably special that would not come my way again.

     I caught the Yellow Cab that night outside of Harrah’s, bound for Reno International Airport and a return flight to San Francisco. It was November 4^th, 1979. The cabbie’s radio was buzzing with reports of the Iranian student takeover of the American Embassy in Tehran. As the reports continued, I began to fear the outbreak of war and global catastrophe. I began thinking about all of my Iranian friends in Tehran, made during my parents’s sojourn there from 1973-78, and how incredibly dark world events had become.

     Almost 30 years have passed. The world is an even darker place than it was then. I believe that the United States will still be engaged in a military tragedy with Iran, for reasons Mr. Tourney and I will discuss this coming Sunday on RBN radio. Along with that horrific scenario, there is Gaza, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, trillion dollar budget deficits, $700 billion bank and brokerage firm bailouts, the disappearance of America’s manufacturing economy, rampant crime, and an ever seeping moral sewage emanating from both Washington and Hollywood that threatens to dwarf the souls of my countrymen.

     But the legacy of Eddy Arnold and a different America remain bright in my memory. Arnold’s now distantly recorded albums titled Thereby Hangs a Tale and Cattle Call may give your children and grandchildren a glimpse of a different time and place, and an Americana longed for, and not to be seen ever again. Check out his last charted single, "To Life," by clicking here.

     I will remember him and what he embodied, for all the remaining days of my life.