A Note from Emmie: This is not a true interview, but is a piece of fiction in the form of an interview transcription. Except for a few second-hand references to some jazz greats, there is no connection between these characters and anybody who lives outside my febrile imagination.

 

Perfect Harmony                     by: Emmie Dee                  © 2001

 

EMMIE: Hello, Pete. I’m so glad that you gave me this chance to interview you for American Jazz. You are one of my favorite young musicians!

PETE: Thanks, Emmie, I’m glad to talk with you. You’re one of my favorite old writers—just kidding!

EMMIE: No you weren’t, but that’s okay. I’ve worked hard to get this old. Pete, before we begin, let me tell you again that I’m taping the interview so I can transcribe it later. That way, I can focus on what you have to say, instead of on trying to make accurate notes. I will send you a transcription so you can correct any mistakes in it, okay?

PETE: Sure, Emmie. No problem.

EMMIE: Okay, thanks. This is my interview on January 12 with Pete Kennerly, the talented young bass player with the Parker Davis combo, with its home base here in Memphis. And you’re not the lead vocalist in the combo, but you do sing, as well, and have a lovely tenor voice. Okay, Pete. Who are some of your idols in the jazz world?

PETE: Historically, I’d have to say Ellington first, Armstrong, Brubeck, and among bass players, Charlie Hayden. By the way, he’s from southwest Missouri, too, just like me.

EMMIE: Your roots aren’t in jazz, they’re in country, right?

PETE: Country and gospel, actually, Emmie. I grew up in Samson, Missouri, where my father worked in a bank for a living, but the job he really loved was leading the choir at the Church of Christ there. And mom, when she was alive, taught music in the local school system. So all six of us kids, and our parents, sung in church almost from as soon as we could stand up. That church didn’t believe in musical instruments in worship, so we all sang a capella, and in harmony. We were all blessed with good voices, and our folks encouraged us to play instruments every place but church! We were really a musical family, and we hardly even watched television, we’d sing every night. They would have choir festivals at Silver Dollar City, a theme park down near Branson, and people encouraged us to give it a try. We did, and we won first place—that was all six of us, remember. Then my dad had the idea of forming a girl’s quartet made up of my sisters, and trying to go pro. This was in the mid 80s, when Branson was becoming a boom town for country music, and just starting to make the Nashville crowd a little nervous.

EMMIE: Tell me about your sisters, Pete.

PETE: Sure. Heidi is the oldest, and became a surrogate mother to us when mom died. Bossy as all get out, but she means well. Actually, she is very well organized and a good leader, and without her initiative and guidance the group would have never gotten off the ground. Heather is next oldest, and she’s quiet and shy, always the "good girl." Holly is the free spirit of the family—or was then, anyway. She was always trying to get out from under the older sisters’ shadows, and didn’t like living up to their expectations. She was a great talent, though. Finally, Haley was bubbly and fun, and probably the brightest one in the family.

EMMIE: Their names all begin with H, but yours begins with P.

PETE: Sure. My mom’s name was Helen, and my dad’s name is Patrick, so they decided to use the same initials—H for the girls, P for us boys. My brother Paul is the oldest child in the family, and I’m the youngest. The girls were sandwiched in between us. So, anyway, the girls formed a group called Perfect Harmony, and it was, just about, at least on stage. After some guest shots here and there, they finally got a contract with one of the big names in Branson, who owned his own theatre there. Perfect Harmony would do the opening act, setting the stage for him, and sometimes do backup singing for him, as well. And when he wouldn’t be there, like he had a show in Vegas or something, my sisters would put on a full show.

EMMIE: Isn’t it true that there was a fifth sister, one named Hannah?

PETE: (laughs) I’ve been set up! I bet Parker told you about me, right? Oh, yeah! I remember. We had a long bus trip and we were all talking about the most unusual gigs we ever did, and so I told about my summer as Hannah Kennerly. (laughs again) What a crazy thing! Crazy.

EMMIE: Would you like to tell me about it?

PETE: Well, I’m not embarrassed about it. And Parker must not be since he told you. And Perfect Harmony has disbanded, so I guess it wouldn’t do them any harm if the public finds out that their youngest girl singer was actually a boy—me. Sure, I’ll tell.

EMMIE: So, how did you get along with your four sisters?

PETE: Pretty well, mostly. I guess that I resented them a little bit for being older, having more freedom, and especially being the center of attention, but mostly I thought they were really great. The older two were more like aunts, in a way, because of the age difference, but Holly and Haley and I got along pretty well. Now that I look back on it, I admired them so much, and was really impressed by them. Of course, since I was their kid brother, I had to cover that up by teasing them and mimicking them unmercifully. I'm sure they saw me as a little pest.

EMMIE: You gave them a hard time, huh?

PETE: If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I flattered them a lot. I'd sing with them, my voice would blend right in, and I would imitate all their mannerisms. Heather was the choreographer, and she'd come up with all these cute moves, and of course, I would do them too, only I would wiggle more and act more dainty and feminine, just to exaggerate. That was probably my downfall, what got me into trouble. At that point, though, we had this little ritual. When they wanted me out of the way, one of them would just say, "If you want to be one of us so bad, come ahead and join us," and would start running after me, maybe with an open tube of lipstick. Or Heather would say, "Let's see you try that in heels," and would slip off her shoes and offer them to me. In any case, that was my cue to run screaming from the room.

EMMIE: Did they ever catch you?

PETE: No, but they could have, if they wanted to.

EMMIE: Did you ever want to be caught?

PETE: Sometimes I was tempted to, just to see how far it would go. But it was a ritual kind of thing, I guess. We all had our roles and we played them out. It was the "Petey teasing the sisters" game. Wait--before I tell you what happened, let me show you a picture. (long pause) Sorry it took so long. Here's a picture of Perfect Harmony, and I'm in it. Which one am I?

EMMIE: Wow! What a pretty group! You all were adorable, if you'll excuse me from saying so. But one of these is really you? Let's see. I think the two on the left are the older sisters. Maybe the one on the far right?

PETE: Hah! Fooled you. Haley's on the far right. That's me, right next to Haley, with Heather on my left.

EMMIE: I could never have guessed. You could almost pass for twins. Maybe it was your glasses that threw me. So, go ahead and tell me how you got into this picture.

PETE: I liked Holly a lot, but she drove her older sisters and Dad crazy. She was independent, a free spirit, and she always fought back when somebody would tell her to do something. She had the second strongest voice in the outfit, next to Heidi, and felt that she might do better on her own, rather than playing "third fiddle," so to speak. At first she started hanging around Rob the drummer just because Dad and Heidi disapproved of him. He was one of the few in the band that wasn't a family member, and he was a bit on the wild side. Of course, they tried to discourage the relationship, but that only made Holly more determined. I don't think she ever really loved him, but she convinced herself that she did. We had a week off in late May, with another group opening in our theatre, to prepare for our summer program. We had a professional disagreement that became a big family fight--I think Holly wanted to do a solo that was a little suggestive, one that didn't fit in with the wholesome image of the family, and the family--dad, actually--voted her down. She left in a huff. Actually, she left later that night in Rob's Plymouth convertible, although we didn't know it until morning. We were shaken up, but the show had to go on. I was really upset--well, we all were. Other than mom dying several years before, this was the first big disruption of our family circle.

EMMIE: Hmm. Tough.

PETE: Yeah. Holly was always friendly to me, maybe because she was lonely since she had set herself at odds with dad and her older sisters. No, I think she genuinely liked me, and I liked her, because she did have the guts to be her own person. I felt hurt and rejected when she ran off. She left a note saying that she hated us all, and she was leaving forever, and she would make it big in Hollywood and show us all.

EMMIE: So what did your family do?

PETE: There were some family war councils that I wasn't involved in, since I was the kid. I think that they started with our list of cousins, hoping that they could find a replacement in the family. They started calling around, seeing if other singers were looking for jobs, but didn't have much luck. All the summer talent--college students, mostly, and the older, more talented high school girls--already had jobs. Even so, it would have been difficult to integrate somebody brand new into the act in only a week.

EMMIE: Did you volunteer?

PETE: No! The thought never would have entered my mind. The night after Holly had left, we went home to Samson--about half an hour away--to have dinner and spend the night in our own beds. On the way, the three remaining Kennerly sisters experimented with singing as a trio. It didn't work, at least not very well. They sounded good, but they sounded thin without the fourth voice, and the harmonies couldn't be quite as complex. Heidi asked if I would join in so they could sing a song again that they had just finished, so they could hear the difference. So I did. Later, after supper, Heidi called me up to her room. I walked in and they closed the door.

"Pete," she said, "we have an idea about how to save the show, and we want you to hear it out. We want you to consider singing with us in the show, either until Holly comes back or until the end of August. Sandy, Aunt Marge's daughter, is booked at Silver Dollar City until then, and she can come into the act when you have to go back to Samson for high school. You know that you are talented enough, and you're not shy on stage. You've sung with the family chorus plenty of times, and you play the bass in the pit band already."

I listened, deep in thought. "I do like singing with you guys, and I guess that you can work out the acts so it's three girls and a boy instead of four girls. Sure. I guess that I can. Will you pay me?"

They were all grinning, and leaning forward like vultures over carrion. "Of course, we'll pay you. You will have a full partnership, just like Holly did. But it can't be three girls and a guy. It will have to be three girls," Heather explained. If Heidi had said that, I would have rejected the idea flat out. As it was, I just blustered out that there was no way I could do it, and that it was impossible, that even if I tried people would find out and the guys back home would kill me.

"Think about it, Pete. Just think about it. Nobody else would ever need to know. You know the songs, you know the moves, and you're a natural born mimic. Don't you remember how people always say how much you look like us?" Heather's brown eyes looked deeply into mine, dead serious, even imploring.

"Yeah, and I always get mad. But I look like a boy Kennerly and you all look like girl Kennerlies." I was getting seriously nervous here, knowing that cute would describe me better than handsome.

"That can be arranged," Haley grinned. "You know that you could do it, and that you would look good as a girl. I would owe you big if you did this, Petey, and I would just love to have you as a kid sister." I was starting to sweat.

"I'm sorry, gang, I'd love to help you, but this is just too unreal. And it's too risky. Even if I did dress up as a girl every night for the show, and even if I really looked like one, too much could go wrong. Dozens, hundreds, of people know that there are four Kennerly sisters, and know Holly very well. They could tell in an instant that I wasn't Holly."

Heidi spoke again. "We weren't asking you to pretend to be Holly. Although you would officially be called a sister for the act, we would tell anybody who would know the difference that you were actually a cousin, filling in--and we have hundreds of cousins. Your own name--well, a girl name--would appear on the programs. We would create a whole new identity for you. And before you turn us down, let me spell one word for you. C-a-r. You will be sixteen next winter, and you know dad's rule that when any of us want a car, we have to be able to pay for it and the insurance ourselves. Pete, no summer job is going to pay you enough to do that, except for this one. If you do this, you will save the group, and I guarantee you if anybody gives you a hard time, including one of us, they will pay."

Dad. Dad wouldn't go along with this, would he? He's way conservative. He's also very protective of his kids. Maybe if I threw it into this court, they would have to accept it. "Did you ask Dad? Frankly, I don't see him wanting to see his son in a dress. If you ask him and he says yes, maybe--just maybe--I'd consider it." They admitted that they hadn't asked him yet, but that they wanted to sound me out first. Heidi and Heather thanked me for even considering it, and walked out to talk with Mr. Kennerly, patriarch of this branch of our clan, and business manager of Perfect Harmony. Haley and I left our big sister's room and she followed me into mine, my messy little den with the Kansas City Royals posters and my own kid's league trophies for baseball. I wanted to crawl into the wallpaper, but Haley just looked at me and smiled sweetly.

"What?" I asked

"I'm sorry, Petey. You have grown up so much over the past few years, and I have so much respect for you for being brave enough to think about doing it. You act silly when you're imitating us, but I know it's because you love us. And we love you, too. It would be so much fun to have you as a sister for the summer. I hope that you won't be mad at me, but it was my idea. They were almost ready to give up, and I said, 'What about Peter? He's talented enough to play one us--he's been doing it for years." I admitted that I wasn't mad, but said that I really needed to be alone for awhile. She just smiled and kissed me on my forehead. I made a fuss about wiping it off, but I couldn't help but grin.

It was about ten at night when all four knocked and walked into my room. "He said that he would think about it, and we could discuss it together in the morning," Heather said, smiling. I had figured that Dad would turn them down on the spot. If they managed to convince him, I would spend the summer onstage in skirts and dresses.

EMMIE: Is that what he decided?

PETE: No, he had an open mind about it, and he was very sensitive of my feelings, and came down firm that nobody would hassle me if I said no. He also said that if I agreed to do it, that indeed the wrath of the whole family would fall upon anyone who hassled me or teased me. Finally, he said that if I was agreeable, maybe a dress rehearsal would help convince both me and him that this plan could work. So soon the three girls and I were in Heather's room, and they began working on me. On this first try, they agreed to let me wear my own shorts, and helped me slip on a long, shiny black skirt, a bra stuffed with pantyhose, and a white blouse. They put a little color on my cheeks, and then Haley handed me a dusty rose lipstick. So there I was, holding the tube that they had used to frighten me out of the room, gingerly drawing the color across my lower lip. All the girls wore wigs on stage, not exactly Dolly Parton in style, but more showy than their less formal hairstyles. They lowered Holly's wig onto my head, and it was obvious that they were right. The kid brother really did look like a Kennerly sister. So I ate lunch as a girl, and after we cleaned up, Dad asked if we could do "Not If I See You First," one of our country novelty numbers. It was the funniest thing. Earlier, even though I knew that I looked okay, I still felt self-conscious and awkward. But when we started singing, I knew that it fit in and that this could work. We were all almost giddy by the end of the song--it was a real rush.

"Okay," I said. "I guess that I can lead a double life--boy by day, girl by night--until the end of the summer."

Dad shook his head. "I'm afraid it won't be that easy, Pete. We have to play this close to the vest. I called the owner of the theatre, not to tell him about you joining the act, but about Holly leaving and the possibility of having to go on as a trio. He was really hard-nosed. It had to be four Kennerly sisters or none, and no bad publicity. He told me in no uncertain terms that the group's transition would have to be virtually seamless and invisible. A new name on the program would be okay, but nothing more. And if we didn't live up to the terms of the contract, he would find another opening act. That means tight security. Having a boy around in the day and a girl around at night would be a disaster waiting to happen. If you do this, Pete, and you can still say no, you will have to live as a girl full-time all summer."

"Dad's right, Peter," Heidi said. "It will be easier just to get into one role and play it to the hilt than to jump back and forth all the time. Besides, you're going to have to wear nail extensions, and they would be slow to put on and painful to take off if you had to do it daily." I hadn't thought about that. My sisters did all have long, painted nails. We'll have Jill do a complete makeover on you, so nobody will be able to blow your cover." Jill Johnston was a family friend and local beautician who worked part-time as our make-up person and costume mistress backstage. She was also another cousin. Unlike some beauticians, my sisters told me, they would trust Jill absolutely to keep a secret.

"Tomorrow morning, we will tell the theatre crew that Peter got a good summer job in Springfield, and give him a chance to say goodbye to everybody. We'll announce about Holly leaving, and try to convince people that it's just for the summer, and that a cousin from Arkansas will be coming in the next day to take Holly's place. If anyone leaks word to the press so that they start snooping around, that person will be history, and won't be able to work in Branson again. Tomorrow afternoon, Pete will become the new Kennerly sister." Dad had spoken, in his most authoritarian voice. "That is," he said more softly, "if you are willing."

It was a new ball game. I would live as a girl all day, every day. I looked at my sisters. "I don't really want to do this, but I will to save the act. But I don't want any of you to give me a hard time about it, to tease me about being a sissy, or anything. Okay?" All three started swarming on me, hugging me, and kissing me. Haley, especially, was excited that her term as kid sister was ended, at least for the time being.

Dad got an empty peanut butter jar out of the cupboard. "This will be a fine jar. After tomorrow noon, five dollars will go into the jar anytime any of us calls Pete by his real name, or uses a masculine pronoun, or teases him about his masculinity or lack thereof. It will give him some gas money for that car he will get to buy next year. He is one brave man, and I'm proud of him."

I blushed. Who would have ever thought that I would get my father's praise and respect by dressing in skirts and heels? "So if I'm a Kennerly cousin, what will my name be? Patti? What?"

Dad spoke quietly. "You will be Hannah. You will be living the life this summer that Hannah would have lived. It will be a wonderful gift to her memory." I nodded. We all grew misty-eyed. Hannah was Mom and Dad's seventh child, a sweet and dear little girl, who had died at the age of two. I was only five at the time, but I still remember her fondly.

EMMIE: That's beautiful--and tough, too, emotionally speaking. Didn't it surface a lot of old grief and other feelings? And by the way, before I forget, who was the theatre owner?

PETE: I purposely didn't tell you the name, because he's still in business there, and I don't want to embarrass him or cause him bad publicity. He's still a friend, and has always treated my family well. I know that you could find out easily, but please don't. It doesn't add to the story, and it could only hurt him. And yes, me becoming Hannah did resurrect some old, sad feelings, but more than anything it gave us all strength. I know that it sounds hokey as all get out, but when I lived that role for three months, I really did feel like I was living it for her. I lived as Hannah would have lived, and somehow, somewhere, maybe she enjoyed what I was doing.

The next day, Dad did the announcement thing, I told the other crew members goodbye, and I even got into the car and Dad drove me out past the town limits. Then I hunkered down in the back seat, and Dad delivered me to Jill's salon, which was in her home, in a farmhouse three miles out of town, on Highway 65. The girls met us there, and brought a picnic lunch that we all shared. By this time, it was after noon, and I was officially Hannah. During lunch, as they conversed about what to do to me, the fine jar earned fifteen dollars. After lunch, they sent me off to the bathroom where I stripped out of my denim shorts and tee shirt. There, I shaved the light coating of hair from my legs, the brush from my armpits, and the thin patches from my chest. After rinsing and drying, I put on a dancer's thong, "to keep my line clean" as Heather called it, and a matching pair of pale pink panties and bra. Over that came a pair of solid-colored pink shorts and a pink-and-white striped sleeveless pullover. White anklets with pink trim and pink canvas tennis shoes completed the package--for then.

EMMIE: Do I see a pattern here?

T: Yep. Each girl in the group had a theme color on stage, a predominant color in every outfit. I inherited Holly's color, pink. It certainly kept me remembering who I was supposed to be! Anyway, Jill invited me to sit in her styling chair and threw a plastic cloak over me to protect my clothes. They had argued among themselves about whether or not I should have a perm, and Jill convinced them that both a perm and hair coloring might do too much damage to my hair. A big change in hair coloring should be enough. So she washed it--that felt good, then bleached it colorless,--that burned a little, then added a color called "champagne blond"--that was embarrassing. They lightened my eyebrows some so there wouldn't be as much contrast with the new hair color, and plucked them enough to shape them. I had this big forelock of hair that usually flopped down over my forehead. Jill combed it straight down over my nose, and snip, I had bangs. She teased and layered the rest of my hair, and called it a pixie cut. "Don't worry, Hannah," Jill said. "At the end of this gig I'll dye it back into your original dark brown, and give you a cool guy's haircut--unless you decide to keep it this style," she teased.

"No thanks!" I really wasn't fast enough to outrun all the good old boys at Samson Community High, who would pound me into the ground. Meanwhile, my sisters worked over my fingernails, and glued plastic onto them to make them longer, and painted them all frosted pink. Toenails, too. I remember Haley applying my makeup as I watched in the big salon mirror, and she explained each step of what she was doing. I felt something wet and cold being swabbed onto my earlobes, and cringed. Jill punched a hole in each lobe, and inserted a starter stud, a tiny golden globe, in each one. The sisters always wore long, sweeping earrings on stage. Heidi pinned a unicorn pin to my blouse, and slid a tiny gold ring with a pink stone onto my finger, Heather gave me her old Minnie Mouse watch with a pink band, and Haley slipped on a necklace with tiny pink plastic beads, and matching bracelets. Finally, Jill and my sisters were finished, and they had done their work well. "Hello, world," I said, holding out my arms, "Here's Hannah Kennerly."

My transformation wasn't quite complete, though. Earlier that Spring, I had been having trouble reading the board at school. I had gotten a pair of glasses, but I had seldom worn them, and hadn't even brought them to Branson with me when school ended. Dad had gotten the prescription back and had altered the name. So we drove into Springfield, found a chain one-hour optical store at the mall, and they got me the glasses you saw in the picture--big lenses, and of course, pink trim on the frames. I was to wear them everywhere except on stage, and pretend that I couldn't see much without them. They were more to help me look like a girl than to help me see. Although I could wear some of my sisters' hand-me-downs, we went to the outlet mall to add to my wardrobe. We carried away packages of new underwear, skirts, blouses, sundresses, accessories, a one-piece bathing suit, and several pairs of heels. They insisted that I wear heels for at least a few hours each day, so that I would get comfortable with them quickly in order to be able to dance onstage in them. Not everything was pink, of course. There were lots of other colors, in solids, stripes, florals, prints, plaids, but they all had to be able to go with a pink accent, like a scarf, headband, belt, or purse. Since I was being such a good sport about all this, Dad took us all to the restaurant of my choice, an Italian place that had my favorite pizza. They all toasted me, with soft drinks of course, given our religious background, and welcomed Hannah into the family.

EMMIE: It's neat that you have such good memories of that day. For some guys, it would have been total humiliation.

PETE: Yeah. My family helped a lot, and really rallied around me, that was a big part of it. I'm also like my dad, in the sense that when he decides to do something, he does it, and doesn't look back or worry. Once I said yes, and I could barely squeak out that word at the time, I knew that I was in this 100 percent. I had to be, for it to work. Although lots of people in that part of the country, and some in my extended family, think of women as second-class citizens or even worse, as merchandise, our branch of the Kennerly clan was raised to respect women and treat them as equals. I think that gave me confidence, so I could come across as a nice woman, not bitchy, but as one with strong self-esteem, and one who wouldn't crumble into tears at the least little threat. That was a gift from my sisters, I guess.

EMMIE: So how did Hannah work out, on stage and off?

PETE: I wasn’t as talented at song-and-dance as Holly, nor did I have as strong a stage personality, but since we were working on a new summer program anyway, they were able to give me parts that I could handle comfortably and well. Haley picked up some of Holly's parts, and I picked up some of Haley's. That's how I inherited some "little girl" parts since I was now the little sister. We found some ways to build my identity, too. If I missed a mark for a turn during a dance step, for example, I would stomp off stage, grab my glasses, come back on, and say, "Oh, there it is!" I played sweet and shy to the rest of the world, and when I was with my immediate family, I was in my normal role as tease and cut up, but in a more feminine way. Basically, I already knew the songs, so it was primarily just a matter of getting the choreography down pat, and I did okay with that. I got feeling closer and closer to my sisters, and they to me. I hate to say it, but without Holly there, we became a very close knit and loving family circle.

EMMIE: What was your show like?

PETE: It began with a fairly dark stage, with a tight spot on Heidi in a choir loft, upper left stage. She would sing "One Voice"--you know, Manilow's number?--wearing a yellow choir robe, holding a candle. Then we'd come in, blending, each in our own color--Heather in green, Haley in violet, me in pink. Then the choir area would brighten, and we would go into a rollicking gospel medley, swaying, clapping hands, having a good old time. Heather and Heidi stayed on stage, slipping out of their robes, to show pretty gowns--at least they were for mid-80s--and sing two duets. When they went off, I came on, to a little girl's room in upper right, and this gets embarrassing--

EMMIE: Ah, tell me.

PETE: I had two fake puppy dog tails tied off with big pink ribbons and pinned to the side of my head, like Cindy Brady, a pink party dress with white lace, like a four-year-old would wear, white tights, Mary Janes on my feet, and an oversized rag doll clutched in my arm. The song was called something like "I Wish I May." I chattered about my day in a little girl voice, made a wish on a star outside the fake window, tucked dolly into her crib, then kneeled to pray. Then I prayed for mommy and daddy to stop fighting. It was schmaltz, but poignant schmaltz. Then I climbed into bed, the bed was pulled offstage as the lights dimmed, I jumped up, and pulled off the party dress and Mary Janes. As I would slip on sneakers, a dressers would help me into a pleated white skirt and pink letter sweater, hand me poms, and I would come on stage with my other sisters. They had already done leaps and splits, and I would do a back flip off a springboard, and we'd do another novelty song, "Give Me an L." Afterwards, Heidi would stay on for a ballad, we would change costumes again into a variety of outfits, and sing a closing medley. Sure it was hokey, not as relentlessly sweet as the Lennon Sisters, but it fit the venue that Branson was--and is. Solid, enjoyable, family entertainment, seven shows a week--Wednesday through Sunday evenings, with Saturday and Sunday matinees.

EMMIE: So--did you have much free time just to be a girl as it were?

PETE: (chuckling) Or weren't? Not much. Before then, the group would spend its two free days a week back in Samson, usually, at the family home, but we couldn't as much. It would be too obvious that there was a new sister in town. But we would go down to Table Rock Lake to camp and fish. One time, this big redneck kid kept trying to flirt with me and tease me. He was very annoying, and I kept trying to put him off politely. Then one day, down on the dock, he started to come after me with a nightcrawler, something a second-grader would do. I guess that he expected me to run screaming away, or something dumb. I gently took it from between his fingers and told him to go grow up. I tossed the worm into the lake, and as I walked off, nudged him in, too. Unfortunately, he thought that meant I loved him, but I convinced him otherwise.

EMMIE: Any other romances?

PETE: Not really. One kid, really geeky looking but a nice, sweet, kid, hung around me a lot and finally got enough nerve to ask me to a movie. I did go with him, much to my sisters' delight, and was polite and friendly. I gave him a little peck on the cheek, but I let him know that I wasn't really ready to date seriously. Actually, I had a crush on a preacher's daughter, one from a really conservative church. She always wore dresses, never wore makeup, and had straight brown hair down to her waist. We hung around together as friends as much as we could, but her parents discouraged her from having a girlfriend who was part of the show business crowd. I had fantasies that the next summer, when I was a boy again, I would come back and date her, but her family had moved by then. So it wasn't to be, I guess.

EMMIE: Were there any narrow escapes? Did anyone figure you out?

PETE: Some of the cousins got suspicious that I wasn't really a cousin, but I was so far into the girl thing that I don't think anybody suspected that I was really Cousin Pete.

EMMIE: So you completed the summer as Hannah? Did the other girl--excuse me--take Holly's place in the Fall?

PETE: We were auditioning her, then Holly came back. It was like the story of the prodigal daughter. The drummer had treated her badly, and she came back very timidly, like a frightened mouse. She felt terrible, and just knew that we wouldn't want her back. We hugged her back into love, though. Imagine how she felt when she met her replacement, and then found out who it was! Anyway, the group reunited, and continued for four more years. Most of my sisters are married now. Heidi and Heather still sing professionally on the Branson circuit.

EMMIE: Did you ever play Hannah again?

PETE: Once or twice, to fill in when one of my sisters would be sick or something.

EMMIE: Pete, we're almost out of time for today, and I think your story is fabulous. I do want to talk with you more about your music, and who you are today. But can you tell me, off the record, if Hannah ever comes back today?

PETE: (laughs) Off the record--deep background--not in public.

EMMIE: Pete, thanks so much! I'll send you the transcript, and we'll set up another interview, if you're willing.

Well, Pete, here it is. Check it over, and let me know what you think. I was so sorry to hear that your group is breaking up, and that Preston is in rehab. You won't have any trouble finding another gig, though. You're clean, sober, very, very talented, and very, very, very nice. Actually, I do know of an opportunity. Jessie Hornbill, the folk singer, is looking for a bass player to go on tour. Of course, it's an all-girl band. I told her about a wonderful bass player who could double as a backup singer, whose name is Hannah Kennerly. Would you tell Hannah for me and see if she’s interested?

Lots of love,

Emmie Dee

 

 

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