Now, every fiddler worth his salt knows the true story of one Jesse Donald Thompson --- that hard-drinkin', hard-livin' ol' rustbucket of a fiddler who was the very first headliner on that most iconic of country music institutions, the Grand Ole Opry. 'Tis nearly a century or so since it was first launched, but to this day, there ain't a livin' soul on this here Planet what hasn't tuned in to Nashville, Tennessee's beloved WSM, 650 on yer AM radio dial, every Saturday night to git themselves a proper lesson from th' Mother Church o' Country Music. But Uncle Jimmy, as the world knows him, was the first to make the Opry's magic happen. And it took his attitude and his trusty fiddle, Ol' Betsy, to make it all come to life!
Here, then, The Tale of Uncle Jimmy Thompson:
Born in Smith County, Tennessee, near the village o' Baxter, young Jesse was an avid whippersnapper, wantin' to make music as badly as the rest o' us old-timers. 'Twas during the early 1860's that the family left Tennessee fer Texas, where th' young ol' goat began his first fiddle lessons. Even today, there are some among ye what say young Jesse learned a lot of these tunes from folks what had just come home after survivin' th' Civil War, and even then, his fiddlin' style had a wee li'l bit o' that good ol' Texas influence.
As the 1880's came to a close, Jimmy, as he was now callin' hisself, got t' marryin' up with his first wife, Mahalia Elizabeth Montgomery, when he got back to Smith County. There they lived fer around 20 years, until they returned t' Texas. Then, in early 1907, Jimmy won that eight-day fiddle contest he would later boast about on th' radio --- the one he said was in Dallas --- and then, the Thompsons settled in th' village of Hendersonville, a few miles northeast o' Nashville. They had two children, Willie Lee and Katherine. But as those first years went on, it became obvious that Mahalia Thompson wasn't too long fer this world, sadly, an' Uncle Jimmy did everything in his power t' rescue her from th' cancer that eventually claimed her life.
So now, it's 1912, and Uncle Jimmy, now in his mid-50's, decides t' go a-courtin' agin! (Hee-hee-hee!) And the lady he chooses this time is one Ella Manners. Four years later, Jimmy and Ella move to the village of Laguardo, in Wilson County. It's thar that they build up the cabin home where they'll live happily together fer th' rest o' their lives.
By all accounts, folks say that Auntie Elly, as they'll later call her, is just as ornery and taddle-painted as Uncle Jimmy himself. They still tell tales of how they both used to chase each other around their own house, firin' pistols all the way and laughin' themselves silly about it! Still, it was around this time that Uncle Jimmy now found himself at that age when he considered himself too old to farm, so he bought himself a standard Ford truck, outfitted the vehicle with a makeshift camper, which he hisself designed, and for the first few years o' their partnership, Uncle Jimmy and Auntie Elly would journey all across Tennessee, playin' state fairs and other celebrations. Uncle Jimmy would play his fiddle, which he now had named "Ol' Betsy," and Auntie Ellly buck-danced on top o' a big, red rug! Then in 1923, like I just finish'd tellin' ya, Uncle Jimmy went back t' Dallas, where they'll tell ye he won a second eight-day fiddlin' contest.
Now, one thing you young'uns need to know is that in its heyday, the Ford Motor Company frequently sponsored a lot o' these rural fiddle contests and related cellybrations. As far as Henry Ford was concern'd, y'see, fiddlin' was a big alternative to what he saw as the horribleness of jazz music, which was in vogue in America around this particular time. (Ptui!)
Now every good fiddler what knows about fiddlin' knows about how, in 1925, the National Life and Accident Insurance Company set up a radio station capable of reachin' a specific regional audience. That radio station was, and is, the aforenot'd WSM 650 on yer AM dial. It was around September o' '25 that WSM started broadcastin' local musicians from Nashville and vicinity --- folks like Humphrey Bale, Sid Harkreader, and esepcially Uncle Dave Macon. These musicians proved t' be so durned popular that WSM decided they need a man who could lead the locals as set 'em up as a cohesive full-scale group. Toward that end, then, the owners of the station hired a fella by the name o' George Dewey Hay to serve as their Program Director, having lured him from Chicago, where he'd run WLS as the manager and host o' th' National Barn Dance program. Hay wasted little time on words. He took his WLS format and adapted it fer the WSM listeners --- and afore ye knows it, the WSM Barn Dance was born!
Now, Mr. Hay knew he needed help in puttin' his new show together, so he sought out some help. As it turn'd out, help was right underneath his nose --- in the person of Uncle Jimmy's niece, Mrs. Eva Thompson Jones, who was on WSM's payroll as the station's resident piano accompanist. She was th' one what suggested that her uncle play a few tunes on the show. Well, a few nights later, Uncle Jimmy and Mr. Hay came face-to-face wi' each other fer th' very first time.... and the rest, so they say, is history.
It was Saturday evenin', November 28th, 1925, that Uncle Jimmy Thompson, with Eva Thompson Jones at the piano, headlined that very first WSM Barn Dance program. Mr. Hay was thar as well, sayin' that Uncle Jimmy would then take requests from listeners. Well, the phone lines went viral, as you young whippersnappers would say these days, and afore long, phone calls and telegrams exploded their way into th' station --- so much so, in fact, that by the end o' that first hour, they'd gotten requests from literally every state in the Union!
Finally, when a full hour had passed, Mr. Hay asked: "Ain't you tired, Uncle Jimmy, after ye been playin' fer an hour?"
"An hour? Fiddlesticks!" snorted Uncle Jimmy. "Consarn it, a man don't git warmed up in a hour. This program's got t' be longer! In fact, not too long ago, I won me a eight-day fiddlin' contest down in Dallas --- and here's me blue ribbon t' prove it!" And sayin' nothin' further, Uncle Jimmy went into playin' another tune --- and, as you can imagine, he hadn't had a happier time in his whole life!
For all of December, the WSM Barn Dance had Mr. Hay, Uncle Jimmy and Mrs. Jones. They did their 8 o'clock routine for around two or so hours; and things were essentially peaceful .... but then, out of the moment, Mr. Hay issued a challenge to another old-time fiddler, one Mellie Dunham, out of Lewiston, Maine (July 29th, 1853-September 27th, 1931), to play some tunes in a fiddle showdown against Uncle Jimmy. Mr. Hay had heard about Henry Ford's passion for old-time fiddlin', and wanted to show the automobile tycoon how awesome Tennessee's fiddlers were. But Mr. Dunham declined Mr. Hay's invitation when he learned that there wasn't anything to win in terms of money. Uncle Jimmy wasn't all that impressed, truth be told. Indeed, as he eventually declared on the air: "That old goat! Fer all I know, he's affear'd o' me!"
Yet in January of 1926, Ford would sponsor a second fiddle contest, which Uncle Jimmy signed up fer. He won blue ribbons in each regional round until they got to the state championship finals, staged at the Ryman Auditorium the evening o' January 19th, 1926. Uncle Jimmy's challengers, to name 'em proper, were Uncle Bunt Stephens from Lynchburg, Virginia; and a one-armed fiddler from Hartsville, Marshall Claiborne. And needless to say, Uncle Jimmy beat 'em all!
But then came the regional finals at Louisville, Kentucky --- where, oddly enough, Uncle Jimmy never even finished in the top three, being bested by Stephens, Claiborne, and an Indiana fiddler, William H. Elmore. In the end, 'twere Uncle Bunt who wound up winnin' the national fiddle finals.
And yet, none o' that mattered to Uncle Jimmy. As long as he had Auntie Elly and his radio appearances and ev'rythin' else, he was a happy man, blessed by the good Lord with all that this wonderful life had t' offer him.
Well, y'know how they often say that Pride goeth afore a fall? Well, lemme explain it t' ye like this: like most fiddlers of his day, Uncle Jimmy was of the sort what usually associates fiddlin' in general with havin' a good time, and that would normally mean he'd love to do his fiddlin' with a jug or two o' moonshine, or, as the folks thar would call it, "good ol' Wilson County 'white lightnin' " --- in short, plain ol' whiskey. Also, Uncle Jimmy was never the kind of musician what would adhere to what you city slickers who listens t' that ---- what duz they call that, terrestrial radio? --- terrestrial radio thang .... well, let's just say he hated being pulled away from that thar microphone. Time constraints and bluegrass fiddlin' just don't mix if ye be in in yer late 80's, and that's probably one o' the reasons why eventually Uncle Jimmy and Mr. Hay had a fallin'-out that almost came to violent head-bashin'! Indeed, after 1928, Uncle Jimmy made only two more appearances on th' show.
There are some folks what say that even Uncle Jimmy's death is shrouded in mystery. What we knows fer sure are two things; one, the cause o' death, which was pneumonia; the other, the exact date and time when he passed, 2:20 in the mornin' late at night, Tuesday, February 17th, 1931. There are at least five versions of the tale o' Uncle Jimmy's passin'. One o' them tales says that he froze to death while he was out on the road, tryin' t' fix up his camper. But the most credible o' these accounts sez that Uncle Jimmy, wearin' no more'n his long johns, noticed that his house was on fire. Determined to save his stuff, especially Ol' Betsy, he went outside and tried to draw water from his well. Somehow that water splashed onto him --- and he began freezin'! Afore long, though all his possessions were safely rescued, his well-bein' took a turn fer the worse, and eventually, he up n' passed on. Poor fella.
So this fella Uncle Jimmy Thompson had only two short years to, in his words, "spread me music out all across the Amerikey," but today, the thousands of folks who know the legend of the Grand Ole Opry do their very best every Saturday evenin' to try an' keep ol' Uncle Jimmy Thompson's ghost happy!