RUNAWAY - The Del Shannon Story

RUNAWAY

The Del Shannon Story

Brian C. Young

Copyright © 2023 by Brian C. Young.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 06/29/2023

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

853958

CONTENTS

Dedication

Preface

Acknowledgments

1934 - 1948

1949 - 1953

1954 - 1959

1960

1961

1962

1963

1964

1965

1966

1967

1968

1969

1970

1971

1972

1973

1974

1975

1976

1977

1978

1979

1980

1981

1982

1983

1984

1985

1986

1987

1988

1989

1990

1991

1992 - 1995

1996

1997

1998

1999

2000

2001 - 2003

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008 – 2010

2011

2012

2013 – 2016

2017

2018 - 2019

2020 - 2021

2022

2023

Endnotes and Bibliography

Del Shannon Sessionography

Discography

Del Shannon Sound-Alikes (So why did you have to sound like me for?)

Song Lyrics and Publishing

DEDICATION

I would like to dedicate this book to the following individuals for their inspiration and support over the course of many years in seeing this project executed: To my family, for their understanding. To the Westover family as a whole, for being gracious and open. To Dan Bourgoise, you are my music mentor and a voice of reason. To James Popenhagen, you are like a brother to me. We’ve shared many events together on this journey. To Dennis DeWitt and Howard DeWitt, thank you for showing me the ropes! To Del’s fans, you are simply the best!

PREFACE

This book is first and foremost an attempt to capture and encapsulate the musical career of singer-songwriter Del Shannon. The journey for me in writing this has been a long one, spanning at least 30 years in just researching alone. Yes, it took just as long to research and write the story of Del Shannon as his musical career had lasted … about 30 years.

To all the fans, friends, musical associates and family of Charles Westover / Del Shannon, I apologise up front for the length of time in being able to get this book executed. Marriage and raising a family put this book’s writing on the sidelines, but it was always in the back of my mind. It is a better book today because of the long delay. However, my only regret is that we’ve lost so many of the crucial people in recent years that were a part of Del Shannon’s story, and they didn’t get the chance to read this. But they lived it! So here’s to ya!!!

The glaring issue that I had in writing this book was that there was too much information that I had collected and amassed over the years, to be able to figure out just how to lay this book out. Running Del Shannon’s fan club since the early 1990’s has been a blessing. To all the fans who’ve sent in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, tapes, radio surveys and posters, and other oddball items, at a time before the internet, really helped to make this book possible in the sense of building up a good base from which to draw initial research information from.

Growing up in the state of Washington, I was fortunate enough to meet a fellow Del Shannon fanatic right in my own backyard. A chance meeting with Dennis DeWitt, from the Seattle area, became the catalyst for writing this book. Dennis and his brother, Howard DeWitt, were huge rockabilly and rock ‘n roll fans in general, and wrote for a magazine called Blue Suede News. Having seen that March 1990 issue that featured several articles on Del Shannon after his untimely death, Dennis and I met up at his home in North Seattle. We were both stunned at the amount of Del Shannon material and memorabilia we each had, and literally were able to double each other’s collections overnight (well … the cassette dubbing sessions probably took about a week or two, and we spent about a whole day holed up at a Kinko’s copy center printing off photocopies of everything Del, but you catch my drift). That chance meeting amplified the both of us in a journey to seek out what went wrong in the life of a successful singer who was enjoying a new peak in his career when it all suddenly ended on a sad February eve. Although Dennis and I hadn’t met yet, we had both caught Del in concert at the Washington State Fair in Puyallup on September 8, 1989, literally five months to the day before his death. Shannon looked great! Backed by The Monte Carlos that night, his show was impressive and the sound was top-notch.

Del Shannon playing the Washington State Fair in Puyallup 1989

Dennis and his brother had already elected to write a book on the career of Del Shannon, and had begun the interview process starting with the locals of Battle Creek, using Dick Schlatter there as their point of contact and glorified tour guide. I, on the other hand, having run Del’s fan club, the American branch of the Del Shannon Appreciation Society, helped to garner a relationship with Shannon’s manager, Dan Bourgoise, and his staff at Bug Music. Dan, in turn, helped immensely with opening doors and getting us in touch with Del’s family and music contacts. This all led up to several trips to Michigan and California for research purposes, but it wasn’t until March of 1997 that the true breakthrough occurred. A week-long series of extensive interviews with Del’s family, manager, early producer, music associates, and close friends, really helped in truly seeing the full scope of both Del Shannon’s life and the music he left behind.

Due to the sheer volume of material sourced to be able to work from, the only way that I could deem organizing everything was to do so chronologically. Thus began the long process of sorting the materials into boxes labelled 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s. From there, the material was broken down by year. It was a very tediuous task, but in doing so it allowed me to write this book as a Del Shannon day-by-day of sorts, for lack of a better term. In doing so though, it does make this book in spots feel more biographical or analytical, until it reaches a point where an anecdote or funny story may occur. I make no excuses for this, and have chosen not to delete these spurts of fact-telling because of their historical importance. A day-by-day following of Shannon’s career here helps to document everything that he’s done, giving the reader a point of reference and a guide during the process of the singer’s growth, beginning with where he came from, and leading into his formative years in how he began his musical journey. This book stands as an encyclopedic account of Del’s career and lifespan, from which future writers or researchers can source from.

To cement Del’s work in history so that it is not forgotten in years and generations to come was a concern of mine. I did not want to see my pop hero’s music and legacy fade into the abyss. Shannon was an underdog, which was one of the things that made his story so attractive to me. He wasn’t born with the good looks of Elvis, or blessed to be a member of a break-through band like the Beatles, but he was able to kick and crawl and climb his way up to reach the stardom and attention he was eagerly looking for while picking strawberries in a rural Midwest town as a boy.

When and if at all possible, more than one source was interviewed (or if in print, drawn from) in order to find and build on a story around an event, gig, or the writing of a song. In writing this book, I have found that each individual has their own version of the truth, or the way in their mind that the event or happenstance occurred. Some of those best examples would be in the writing, recording, and release of the smash hit Runaway. Del’s versions of how the song came to be are down on tape for all to hear. Aside from Shannon’s own perspective, being able to hear from Shirley Westover how she wrote down the lyrics on paper as Del strummed through the song, or how it came together on stage at the Hi-Lo Club from organist Max Crook and drummer Dick Parker, to the drive to New York and the recording of the song seen through the eyes of the co-writers’ wives, Joann Crook and Shirley Westover, how it was arranged and mixed from the arranger Bill Ramal and producer Harry Balk, to the session guitar players, Bucky Pizzarelli and Al Casamenti, to the release of the single by Bigtop label-head Johnny Bienstock, the story of Runaway became well-rounded. Each person added another layer or perspective, with little factoid side-stories such as Joann Crook becoming a contestant on Beat The Clock while waiting for her husband to finish his recording session, or that both Shirley and Joann had children born on the same day nine months after the Runaway recording session. Those trivial little happenings give the story more depth and realism.

As this book took shape in a basic outline form, some glaring holes in the story needed to be filled. Rather than bullshit through a timeline to connect the dots, all avenues and sources were exhausted in order to find that story in order to plug the hole. My apologies to those that I had to re-interview about a subject matter over and over again, but thankfully your answers to my many questions have helped to fill those gaps in the timeline. One such gaping hole was the 1977 era when Shannon had recorded The Dublin Sessions, or maybe more appropriate would have been the title Songs from the Bottom of a Bottle, since Shannon recorded this album during his worst bout with alcoholism. There wasn’t much out there that told us who, what, where, when, why this album was recorded, and then not see a release. It wasn’t until one of the members of the band that Del had toured with, Michael Smitham of Smackee, was located, that a first-hand account could be added to the recollections of Dan Bourgoise’s memories, and help to shape that timeline. And while Max Crook had nothing to do with the recording of the actual sessions in Dublin, he was there for the writing and recording of a few of those songs that appeared on the album, which gave some backstory to those songs and how they came about.

Del’s career had been riddled with both triumphs and tragedies. He had a high mountain to climb and had many battles to fight along the way and over the years, be it with his early managers, industry executives or label heads, to his struggle with alcohol and maintaining his image. Yes, our Midwest boy was a fighter! He fought tooth and nail, and sometimes he was the victim of his own devices. After his death, his legion of fans, fellow musicians, and other supporters helped to pick up the baton and carry Del’s musical legacy to the finish line. From CD compilations and album reissues, to box sets and anthologies; from documentaries and films that use his music, to Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame induction; from books, car shows, and memorials, to podcasts and fan-made YouTube videos, Del Shannon is remembered, and his music plays on.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The sources that helped to make this book take shape must easily number one- or two-hundred. Rather than try to list them all here and accidentally miss a few, I’ll just keep it to a broad and general thank you to all of you that have helped along the way and in any way. You know who you are, and many of you are listed within the story herein. See also the Endnotes and Bibliography at the end of this book.

First and foremost, to the fans. You are why Del Shannon had a career to begin with. Thanks for buying his records and catching his live performances. By supporting his career over the years, through the hits and misses, the good times and the quiet times, you have proven your loyalty. A fan of Del’s is a friend of mine. To all of the Westover family and your close circle of friends, and to Del Shannon’s management and to any and all musicians and associates that had worked a gig or more with Del and shared your stories, I say thank you.

I do also want to mention in particular Dan Bourgoise. I could not have written this without your help Dan. You have been my primary resource in helping to shape this story, being a voice of reason, aiding with contacts, and making things happen or putting in motion certain events. You’ve opened many doors. I truly appreciate your time, of which you’ve given much over the years! Thanks for putting up with my barrage of never-ending questions. For Del Shannon’s legacy, I thank you immensely. And finally, to my family directly, thank you sincerely for putting up with all of my years of Del Shannon craziness and my boots on the ground adventures.

To the late Max Crook. Wow! I could not have put the story together for those early years without his help. Dan came into the picture in 1964. But Max (and Harry) helped with the bulk of everything before that. Max’s tape collection of demos helped to establish the pre-Runaway timeline and the formative sound. I will be forever grateful to you for sharing those recordings and your memories around them with me and the rest of the world. Thank you!

To the late Harry Balk: Although he is painted as an antagonist with some criminal behavior early on in this book, Harry did eventually redeem himself later by becoming an asset and consultant to Shannon after Del and Dan had successfully secured the early copyrights. Balk was also a supporter when Shannon made a comeback in Drop Down and Get Me in ’81. Sure Harry was a bit shady, but he was a great storyteller and a smooth bullshitter. I actually really liked the guy! We connected well and despite our vast age differences, he was a pleasure to speak with over the phone many times. Irving Micahnik, the other antagonist in Del’s story, died in the late 70’s and due to that has been pegged with the brunt of the guilt and bad dealings, misappropriation of funds and royalties, with no one really to come to his defense. While I won’t be Irving’s defender, I will give the man his props for being a good negotiator in business and fighting for his artist as any manager in the music industry should. Some of Irving’s record deals were brilliantly crafted, and he certainly was a part in helping to launch and push Del’s career forward. But Micahnik was certainly a manager of the times.

And finally, to Bill Ramal, hey man! Getting screwed was part of the business! Thank you for interpreting the New York jive, and for your first-hand account as eyes and ears for those crucial studio hit recordings of Del’s career, and for helping to bring to life what it was like as both an arranger, conductor, and a session musician during the 60’s hey-day of rock ‘n roll. Your perspective has truly been invaluable!

If you have any Del Shannon stories, memories, or audio/video recordings you would like to share, please contact the author through delshannon.com or by sending an email to the author at: delshannon@comcast.net

1934 - 1948

Family, Roots, and Rhythm: Growing Up In Coopersville

Del Shannon was born Charles Weedon Westover in Grand Rapids, Michigan on December 30, 1934 to parents Bert and Leone. According to his mother, Charles was born at home and was a breached baby. Bert, who was 12 years older than his bride, married Leone on June 27, 1933 in Coopersville. The small Westover family lived in nearby Grand Rapids because Bert had found employment there as a streetcar mechanic for the Grand Rapids Streetcar Company. This was during the U.S. Great Depression, and jobs were hard to come by. In April 1935 they had moved back to Coopersville, where they settled and started to raise a family, after Bert had found work as a truck driver for the Ottawa County Road Commission.

Charles Weedon Westover, Age 8

Charles’ father, Bert Leon Westover, was born October 29, 1901 in Fruitport, Michigan (which is west of Grand Rapids and south of Muskegon) but had lived in Nunica for a while. Bert’s father was Jonathan G. Westover, Jr. His mother was Edith M. (Hagon). The couple had seven children: Florence, Leslie A., James R., Charles J., Harold R., Edith Ruth, and Bert. Jonathan and Edith were from Crockery Township but settled in Coopersville, Michigan just south of the railroad tracks on 48th Avenue. Jonathan was a blacksmith by trade there and had run in the 1912 primaries as a Candidate for the Republican nomination for Treasurer of Muskegon County. The Westover lineage can be traced back to Canadian and Scottish origin.

Charles’ mother was born Leone Virginia Mosher on August 31, 1913 in Coopersville. Her father was Weeden Henry Mosher who was from Grand Rapids, and her mother was Blanche Fern (Reed) who was originally from Coopersville. Weeden worked at a butcher shop on Main Street in Coopersville. Leone had three sisters and a brother, Elroy (named after their grandfather). Elroy and Bert’s brother, Harold Westover, had opened an ice cream parlor together around 1934 or 1935 on the south side of Main Street, right about the time when Charles was born. Elroy and Harold went to high school together where they were on the same basketball team and had received the nicknames Tiny and Tink. According to James and Lillian Budzynski’s book, Chronicles of Coopersville, they had moved their ice cream parlor to the north side of Main Street when they officially opened as Tiny & Tink’s Restaurant, which could hold about 50 people and had an all-electric kitchen. The Mosher family line traces as far back as the Puritan Great Migration of the early 1600’s (England), with German roots as well.

Bert and Leone would go on to have two more children after Charles: Blanche Fern and Ruth Ann.

Blanche, Charles, and Ruth Ann

There wasn’t a lot to do for a kid growing up in Coopersville during the late 30’s, 40’s and early 50’s. It was a small farming town, consisting mostly of Dutch Hollanders, with approximately 1,000 in population at the time, totaling less than five square miles in size. The population today has quadrupled but still remains small in size with its downtown area being just about two or three city blocks in length.

Charles, known as Chuck in adulthood but mostly as Charley in his youth (spelled with an ey as opposed to the traditional ie ending – based on how Charles himself had spelled it), attended Jackson School through the 8th grade, along with his sisters. It was essentially a one room schoolhouse type of set-up, like something you would see on the TV show Little House on the Prairie. The girls sat on the east side, and the boys sat on the west side. Leone explained to biographer Howard A. Dewitt in a March 16, 1996 interview: The older kids would sometimes tease and taunt Charles, shouting Wee-der at him. His middle name was Weedon (spelled with an ‘on’). Charles hated his middle name. But it was a family name, my father’s name was Weeden, but spelled with an ‘en’. Charley did manage to find a few friends though in his little town, George Bud Taylor and Lawrence Sonny Marshall. Chuck didn’t like to eat carrots as a kid, his mother remembered, He used to hide at Earl Meerman’s house to get out of doing the dishes.

Jackson School, Coopersville

Ruth Ann, front row second from the left

Blanche and Charles second row far right

Bud Taylor’s family and the Westovers were neighbors when they still lived on Watson Street. Chuck and I were about the same age. We spent some good times together, recalled Taylor in a 1990 interview with Dick Schlatter. Bud recalled a funny story about the time that Charles and he were teasing an old rooster with a stick near Taylor’s chicken coop. All of a sudden, the rooster started coming at us, so we turned and ran to a nearby outhouse. After a few minutes we opened the door to peek out and see where the rooster was, and the darn thing flew inside! My mother asked where Chuck was when, after my escape, I ran in the back door of our house. About then, Chuck hollered from across the street, from the outhouse, ‘I’m over here Aunt Nettie, I’m alright!’

On another occasion, Taylor remembered an incident which may have caused Chuck’s dislike for swimming during his boyhood years. He never liked the water much. So his dad, determined to make Chuck learn how to swim, picked him up by his arm and his ankle, and threw him into a deep hole in a creek. A kid on a nearby inner tube spearing suckers, grabbed Chuck and pulled him to shore. I’ll never forget that.

It could be said that Westover’s singing career began on the streets of Coopersville around the age of eight or nine, but not to the delight of a certain neighbor. Taylor recalled the times he and Chuck would take a shortcut through Mrs. Emmons’ yard on their way to school. We would loudly sing, ‘I’m a Ramblin’ Wreck from Georgia Tech and a hell of an engineer! A hell of a, hell of a, hell of a, hell of a, hell of an engineer!’ She’d call up our mothers and say we were swearing like that on our way to school, mused Taylor.

The year 1945 was a huge blow to the Westover family. Bert’s father died that February and by April he had lost his mother too. His parents had lived near the Jackson School, and Bert inherited their house. With the loss of both parents, he decided to move his family into that home. It had two bedrooms up, and one bedroom down. Charley got his own room and Blanche shared with her sister Ruth Ann. Bert fell into a spell of depression. He became an alcoholic. The only good news was that World War II had ended and the Great Depression was now long behind them.

Charles, Blanche, Ruth Ann, and their mother were all baptized at the Methodist Church in Coopersville on the same Sunday morning by Reverend Davis, according to Leone in an interview in 1996. Later, when Bert got ill, the Reverend came to their house to baptize Bert.

As a kid, Charles had a little white sailor suit that he loved, Leone explained, On Sunday, he and his two sisters would go to the movies at the Century Theatre in Coopersville.

Charley’s father put in long hours at the county road commission. Blanche and Ruth Ann had each other to keep themselves occupied, but Charley was always getting into mischief, whether it be chasing the neighbors’ chickens or tipping cows, he always managed to find himself in trouble. Leone tried to find a way to keep her son entertained. She got him a Buffalo Bob Smith Howdy Doody ventriloquist doll. It had a string in the back that Charley could pull to move its mouth. He wore that doll out! his mother laughed. Charles used to do programs at school for the other kids, he would entertain them with his Howdy Doody doll. It seemed young Westover was wanting attention. He was seeking to be loved at even an early age. Charles would testify years later, as an adult, that he never received many hugs as a child.

As Charles became a teenager, he transitioned from Jackson School to Coopersville High School, and it was around this time that he expressed an interest in wanting to play guitar, after dabbling with playing a kazoo that was given to him by a neighbor accordionist. Guitars cost money, but before anyone decided to plop some money down on a whim, Leone pulled out her family ukulele. Leone admitted to the author that she only knew how to play about three or four chords, and taught Charles to play Doodle-Li-Doo, which was an old west camp song that had been around for years. Singer Eddie Cantor took it to #5 on the Billboard charts (as Doodle Doo Doo) in December of 1924. It was the first song he learned to play, Leone recalled. (Sings): ‘Please play for me that sweet melody called doodle-li-doo…’ Arthur Godfrey played the ukulele and was heard often on our radio. Leone remembered his Ukulele Song. (Sings): ‘…boy couldn’t play, G-C-E-A, on the lady’s ukulele.’ Then Charles learned ‘Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue, Has Anybody Seen My Girl?’ on his own, she laughed. But he seemed to learn quickly. He was determined. Gene Austin had a #1 hit with Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue in 1926, but it was recorded by many artists in the mid 1920’s, including Annette Hanshaw, Jane Gray, The Golden Gate Orchestra (a.k.a. The California Ramblers, which included Jimmy Dorsey and Tommy Dorsey), and later on by heavyweights like Guy Lombardo, Mitch Miller, and Dean Martin.

The first guitar that Charles acquired was given to him by the Hudson family that lived up in the country a ways, Leone continued. It had to be held together with wire and it made his fingers bleed. The neck on it was bent a bit. But he would strum it and strum it! He paid $5.00 for it and rode his bicycle about 5 miles just to get it, she laughed. He played with a piece of cardboard because it didn’t come with a pick. Then when he was about fourteen, and since his birthday was five days after Christmas, we bought him a brand new guitar out of the Sears & Roebuck catalog. As a Christmas and birthday present, he was allowed to pick out the guitar he wanted, within our budget.

Charles picking out his new guitar from a catalog

Westover told the story to Dick Clark one time on his Rock, Roll, and Remember radio show. There was a set of train tracks that ran parallel to Ironwood Drive in Coopersville, right across the street from where he lived. Charles would see the old steam trains chug by his house. He would always have a fascination for steamer trains. My parents bought me a brand new guitar from Sears & Roebuck, and I waited every day for the train to come by to bring me my guitar. It came in a box, Charles told Clark.

Nobody in Coopersville played guitar, so Charles had to learn to play it using a chord book. Slowly but surely, he learned to play chords. He listened to country music on the radio like Hank Williams, and to The Ink Spots and various polka music that came through their radio. Listening to Bill Kenny’s unique vocal timbre might have subconsciously encouraged Westover to learn and use falsetto. Bill Kenny’s voice was like a human Theremin the way it went up and down the scale with ease like it was nothing. We Three by Bill Kenny & the Ink Spots. He’d listen to a lot of the Ink Spots: I’d Climb the Highest Mountain, That’s When Your Heartaches Begin, and later Little Small Town Girl (with Ella Fitzgerald) among others.

Westover eventually played some guitar with a fellow in Lamont, Michigan, and found Roger Hintz, and his older brother Ray, who could also play. The Hintz brothers taught Westover some fingering techniques. Roger was about Charley’s age, and Ray was about two years older.

Bert never really approved of his son playing the guitar, telling him it was a waste of time and was bothered by young Charles strumming it constantly in and around their home. Charles would answer his father’s disapproval by leaving money out on the table that he earned from playing small local gigs and shows to show his father that he was getting paid for playing.

Leone was always very supportive of her son. Charles wanted an amplifier to go with the guitar. Now I never graduated from high school, but I took a job at a frozen food locker in Coopersville. I was able to buy him an amplifier, I made payments on it, she admitted.

Charles was pretty shy. He would never let us hear him sing. Our house used to have an old porch on one side, and a 30 foot or 40 foot spruce tree. There used to be an empty lot next door to it. Renovations were made to the home since, including the addition of a garage, but Charles would play his guitar on the porch or under that spruce tree. Sometimes I could make out that he was singing or humming something, but as soon as I walked up the street or got closer, and he realized I was there, he would stop. He was too afraid to let us hear him sing.

1949 - 1953

It was the summer of 1949 when one day a group of ladies from Coopersville came to the Muskegon Children’s Home on Terrace Street to can tomatoes for the orphans there. Stan Woodard, an orphan who was age 5 at the time, recounted the event to the Muskegon Chronicle on August 12, 2011: Along with the women came a stringed instrument and this guy called ‘Charley’ who was barely a teenager. He sang country songs to us and we clapped and smiled back. He said maybe someday we’d all hear him on the radio. We laughed and so did he. Then he did some Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and Hank Williams classics and one kids’ tune, ‘The Farmer in the Dell.’ Between songs the kid from Coopersville talked to every one of us kids. He was a very nice guy and in an orphanage you appreciate a pat on the shoulder and kind words.

Charles had a friend named Ken Potgetter in Allendale, Michigan. He liked Charles’ music but he didn’t play, reflected Leone. Sonny Marshall and Bud Taylor were Charley’s pals. They hung out together a lot, and let Charley play his guitar and they’d pal around the town doing whatever they were doing. He got a job one summer picking strawberries in the field. It wasn’t an easy job, but it was a way for Charles to make a little coin during the summer months. According to Westover in later years when he reflected on his childhood, this was where he would tell his friends and co-workers, Someday I’m gonna be a star! Someday I’m gonna be in the movies!

Russell Conran

Russell F. Conran was born August 29, 1912 in Conklin, Michigan to parents Frank and Ula (Watters) Conran, but they moved shortly thereafter to Sparta where soon his younger sister Carol (Wooden) and two brothers, Robert and Laurence, were later born. Their father was a molder by trade and worked for Atwood Brass Co. out of Grand Rapids. "My first job was delivering newspapers for seven cents per month, upped to 9 cents during the snowdrift months.

I graduated from high school in 1930, Conran said in an interview in August of 1996. I chose Western State Teachers College because it was the cheapest college I could find. I signed up to become a coach and science teacher, and took a summer job at a piston ring foundry because I didn’t have enough money to make it through my first year, he admitted.

It took young Russell nearly six years to earn his bachelor’s degree between working and going to school, and then married his high school sweetheart, Evelyn Post. He and Evelyn had two sons, Douglas and Ross. Mr. Conran became Principal for a small high school then took on a bigger school in Reading, Michigan, where he went back to school part time to earn his master’s degree in 1942.

Then tragedy hit the Conran household. Evelyn was pregnant with their third child, but both she and the infant died of childbirth complications. Russell became a widower with a five year old and a two year old. His grandmother came to help him out, but she was already in her mid-70s by then. Conran took a summer job at a chair company in Reading to make ends meet as a single parent. As Conran recalled, it was around Father’s Day 1943 that he met a woman named Vivienne McConeghy. They began to see each other a lot and she took a liking to his boys. They married that fall on October 2nd. Vivienne did an excellent job of making the boys her own, he told Cathie Bloom in an interview for the Grand Rapids Press dated January 28, 1987.

With his new bride and family, Conran then moved over to a high school in Jackson County in 1944. I wore many hats there, Conran said with a grin. I was principal, teacher, coach, and school bus driver. I thnk my annual salary there was $2,400. I stayed there for about three years before moving to a bigger school, where I stayed two years, before being offered the job as principal in Coopersville about 1949 or 1950."

Principal Russell Conran and Charles Westover in 1983

As a former student recalled, Conran had that rare gift of being tuned in to what his students were doing and thinking. While he could empathize with them, he also clearly understood his role as a motivator, educator, and if necessary, disciplinarian. It turned out that some of my best friends were students I disciplined most severely, Conran said. Such was the case with a young Charles Westover.

High School Years

In high school, young Westover began watching Ray’s Roundup at 6 o’clock each night from Monday through Friday on WOOD-TV. Based out of Grand Rapids, the television show featured Ray Overholt and his Grand River Boys. Ray sang and played guitar, and even had Hank Williams appear on his show at one point. Charley enjoyed the show and tried to emulate playing his guitar to the tunes he watched being performed on the show. Overholt was a local country and western singer until he hung it up in 1958 and went into Gospel. Ray wrote Ten Thousand Angels which sold over a million copies by the 1970’s. He had signed over his publishing to the church, but after the song became a massive hit, the church felt it right to cut him back in on the healthy royalties. Overholt died aged 84 in September 2008 in Battle Creek.

Westover started bringing his guitar with him to high school, namely to entertain his friends and get the attention of his classmates there. He was getting that rebel image, slacking in his school work, making mischief, and disrupting classes with his guitar playing. He finally caught the attention of his principal, Mr. Russell Conran. Mr. Conran found a way to reach Westover when others were not. Rather than take his guitar away, put him in detention, or allow him to drop out of school, Mr. Conran found negotiating a deal with the young lad proved to have positive results: Don’t disrupt your classes, complete your assignments, and I’ll allow you to play in the boy’s locker room and at noon hour (what Conran called lunch time). Westover agreed and playing in the boy’s locker room was where he learned all about bathroom acoustics. Charles would strum his guitar and be in awe of the echo that resonated off the tile walls. He’d begin to sing Hank Williams songs at school, trying to woo the girls. Charles ventured down to Grand Rapids once he started driving. He found a club he was able to get into and met a guitar player there named Chuck Johnson, who went by the name of Tiny, but was a big guy. Charles would watch him play to learn some good licks and fingering on the guitar. Tiny eventually allowed Charles to fill in for him on stage while Tiny took a break between his sets. Charles was scared to tell his mother about this place, but he was determined to get a musical education in one form or another. Tiny was often seen playing with his band, Cats & The Fiddle, at the Snug Harbor Cocktail Lounge, Beason’s Bar, and the Ferris Hotel and Bar, all of which were in the Grand Rapids area.

Charles’ love for pranks got him into trouble in the summer of 1952. He tossed a skunk into a coffee shop in town during lunchtime, his antics impressing no one.

In the fall of 1952, during his senior year, Charles started dating a girl named Karen, who was from nearby Allendale, which is just south of Coopersville. She let me wear her bracelet, Charles admitted on radio once. I probably asked her if I could wear it. In fact, I probably pestered her to wear it. He gave her candy and teddy bears, and asked her to the prom. She accepted, but just prior to the prom, she dumped him for another guy. Charles chased after them in his Model-T Ford but didn’t catch them. To say he was heartbroken would be an understatement. He was crushed, absolutely devastated. This heartbreak was so drastic it would become the foundation for songs he would later pen like Runaway, Little Town Flirt, That’s The Way Love Is, I Go To Pieces, and To Love Someone, among many others. The event would also cause angry kiss-off responses like Hats Off To Larry, So Long Baby, I Don’t Care Anymore, and the like, but that was still a few years away. This would be another reason why he’d cling on to songs like Handy Man, because he could relate, and would write songs like Hey! Little Girl, a song about fixing a broken heart. Because I know why you cry…hey little girl my heart’s been broken too.

Karen got away from him that one night, but he soon rebounded once the next girl came along. Her name was Elaine. Elaine didn’t live in town, she hailed from Kalamazoo, which was a little more than just a hop, skip, and a jump away. She saw Charles drive by one day in his Model-T Ford, according to the story that Westover shared with U.K.’s Rave Magazine in 1965. He was about two years older than her, but he badly wanted to date her. His Model-T Ford was battered and noisy, and Charles worked hard at Coopersville Greenhouse, and finally saved up enough money to buy a used 1949 Ford that Westover deemed as ritzy. Then he asked her out. It’s about time was her response. When she saw the ’49, her face fell. Weeks ago I saw you go by in a wonderful T-Model. I was hoping you’d take me out in it. This was Westover’s first episode in car failure.

Charles struggled to finish school in the spring of 1953 but with Principal Conran on his case, he managed to graduate on time with his senior classmates. As the 102 members of the graduating class entered the gym on June 4, 1953 for the 8:00 pm graduation ceremony, Principal Conran caught Westover by the arm and said, I never want to see you again unless it is on TV. He meant this jokingly, of course. In the 1953 Zenith, Coopersville High School’s yearbook, the inscription below his name read: Mischief and I are pals. Charles’ horoscope was even more revealing: Likes: Anything but learning; Famous for: His guitar playing; Will probably be: Another Hank Williams. Ironic. Time would later reveal just how profound of an impact Mr. Russell Conran had on young Westover, as he would correspond by writing letters to him over the years. Westover would rebel against just about any and all authority type figures in his life, but not his principal. Maybe in a sense he saw Principal Conran as both a father-figure and an early mentor. Mr. Conran was one of Coopersville’s most astute, upstanding citizens. He was well educated, and well respected within the community, and a much needed and perfect early role model for the budding Charles Westover.

1954 - 1959

One day, Charles and his friend Sonny Marshall went to the Coopersville Century Theatre to see Gone with the Wind on screen (the 1939 film was re-released by MGM in 1954 for the first time in widescreen). Sitting in the row behind them was a girl named Shirley Nash, who was with her friend Danny Vladika. Shirley was from Custer, Michigan, north of Coopersville. She had a brother, Dick Nash, who lived in Coopersville, and had come to town to visit him. Sonny Marshall’s house was virtually right across the street from Dick’s, on Main Street, so he had met Shirley before. He wanted to know my name, remembered Shirley. He asked Sonny for an introduction. In fact, he asked if I’d go out with him and I said no! As Shirley explained, at first she thought Charles was nuts, but she soon changed her mind. Rosemary Collins, owner of the greenhouse where Charles was a delivery boy, said he could have all the flowers he wanted. So, one day he put together a large bouquet and took it to Shirley. That did it. I finally said yes and went out with him.

Their first date was in Fruitport, as Shirley recalled. Charles took her out to see Frankie Yankovic, a famous polka playing accordion player. Now, by today’s terms, this may sound fuddy-duddy or old-fashioned, but accordion playing was a norm of the time, at least in the Midwest, and rock ‘n roll wasn’t yet on the horizon. As Charles and Shirley grew to know each other more, she saw he had a true burning desire to do something with his life. He had dreams and aspirations. He didn’t want to be a farmer or follow in his family’s footsteps with a general trade. That attracted Shirley. I was scared to death to be a farmer, to be stuck on a farm for the rest of my life, she explained. Her childhood home was a farmhouse without electricity or running water. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that we finally got electricity running to the house, and I can still remember vividly my mother sitting on a chair with this big smirk on her face. ‘We have electricity now Shirley.’ Shirley came from a very large family, one of 13 children. She had six sisters and six brothers: Catherine, Irene, Eria, Hazel, Florence, Betty, Richard, Ray Jr., Robert, Victor, Gale, and Wayne. Her grandfather was in the Civil War, and partook in the infamous Sherman’s March to the Sea, under Major General William Sherman. There’s a great folksy civil war song, called I’m Afraid To Go Home, that mentions in the lyrics, Sherman’s been in my town. Burned it all to the ground…" Brian Hyland’s release in 1963 on ABC-Paramount is the definitive version, as Hyland’s harmonies on this record rival anything by the Everly Brothers. It’s very, very good! British pop-star Cliff Richard got ahold of the song in 1964 and ensured it’s coverage across Europe and the British Commonwealths. The song got the garage treatment by a Tampa, Florida based group called The Rovin’ Flames in ’66, and Gene Pitney released his version in ’67, which paled to Hyland’s version but was still good vocally. It featured an annoying whistle in the background however.

In many respects, Charles was that unnamed character in the songs he would later go on to write, Karen would be the unnamed girl in his songs that broke his heart, but Shirley would be the baby by his side in many of his songs.

A Wife and Army Life

Charles got a better paying job as a clerk for Thompson Products and did some moonlighting playing guitar at a bar in Conklin, Michigan (according to his mother) before he was drafted into the U.S. Army in 1954. He proposed to Shirley and they decided to wed before he left for military service. Shirley worked as a telephone operator in Coopersville at the time they were married. According to the Muskegon Chronicle dated September 23, 1954: A pretty candlelight wedding took place Sept. 10, when Miss Shirley Nash, daughter of Mrs. Ray T. Nash, Sr. (Janie), and the late Mr. Nash, became the bride of Charles W. Westover, son of Mr. and Mrs. Bert Westover, of Coopersville. Shirley chose Blanche as her maid of honor, and Robert Nash, Shirley’s brother, served as Best Man for Charles.

U.S. Army – Fort Knox, Kentucky

Charles departed from Grand Haven along with 24 other men for Detroit, and reported to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training. In February of 1955, Shirley came out to visit and live with him for about five months. They lived in a small trailer there, Charles having found some little neighbor kids that he could entertain with his guitar playing. Westover’s military specialty was in communications as a radio operator in the service. Shirley returned home to Coopersville and her position as a telephone operator. About two months later, Charles was deployed to Stuttgart, West Germany in August of 1955, bringing Shirley with him, where he managed to get himself recruited as a guitarist in the orchestra of Get Up and Go, a Seventh Army musical show. The production was a travelogue of song, dance, and comedy, taking its audience on a make-believe trip around the world. The show was a four month show around West Germany, and proved to be a good way for Charles to cut his teeth and get a taste in show business.

The Cool Flames – Get Up and Go Show

The seven musicians in the group decided to form a band and called themselves The Cool Flames. Among them were pianist Private First Class Ed C. Lloyd, who had some professional experience already having worked at the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas; drummer Private William J. Harrington, who served as a medical technician and was a former member of the Paul Martin Quartet in Boston, trumpeter Airman 2nd Class Airman United States Air Forces in Europe (USAFE) Calvin L. Lewis, who had seven years of professional radio experience under his belt, guitarist Private Charles W. Westover, trombonist Private Owen M. O’Sullivan (who later went into public relations and advertising), clarinetist Private First Class Robert Schlitt, and bass fiddler Private First Class Charles L. Scott (from Jackson, Mississippi). Private First Class Danny Martinenko (from Long Beach, New York), managed the troupe. Westover and Schlitt would ironically cross paths again in Hollywood during 1966. Schlitt wrote the premier episode for The Monkees television show.

Christmas week 1955 found Charles and Shirley volunteering some of their time with orphan children in Stuttgart. The Germans had lost the war and it left many, many children without any parents. A few photos from this event captured Charles’ tender side in his earlier years, before becoming famous. We’ll circle back to this side of Charles later on as his story further unfolds.

Christmas 1955 with orphan children, Stuttgart Germany

Their schedule included SACOM (Southern Area Command) January 12-19, 1956, including Nurnberg District (Nuremberg); WACOM (Western Area Command) January 21-February 12, 1956, including Kaiserslautern; HACOM (Headquarters Area Command) February 14-29, 1956, including Mannheim-Friedrichsfeld, and NACOM (Northern Area Command) March 3-April 15, 1956, including Roedelheim.

Upon their return home to Coopersville in June of 1957, after his Army hitch was over, Charles had a hard time finding work, and decided to re-enlist voluntarily in the U.S. Air Force provided he be stationed at nearby Fort Custer in Battle Creek so he could be close to home.

Bert and Leone Westover celebrated their (25th) Silver Wedding Anniversary on June 28, 1958 at their home. The Westover and Mosher families were both large, making their anniversary celebration one of almost a family reunion, as most of the family members were able to attend.

Tragedy struck Shirley’s side of the family on November 16, 1958 when her older sister Florence drowned near her home in Custer. It was believed that she had an epileptic seizure and fell into a water filled ditch while finishing up some farming, according to the Ludington Daily News dated November 17, 1958.

Bert Westover got hurt on April 1, 1959. Leone remembered it was on April Fool’s Day. Bert had a brain aneurism from lifting a heavy piece of tile. As Leone had described it, a main artery blew in his brain. He was placed in the Marne Rest Home near Coopersville for a few years. Leone sold the family home because she was now living there alone and had to make ends meet with Bert now being in a nursing home and unable to work. Charles’ stint in the Air Force was short-lived when his father had the accident and became quite ill, so he applied for a hardship discharge.

Battle Creek

Once Charles and Shirley had relocated to Battle Creek, Michigan, they lived on base in military housing initially, while Charles was in the Air Force, before relocating later to a rented trailer in a Galesburg trailer park for a short time once he got out. Shirley found employment as a ticket agent for North Central Airlines at Kellogg Airport. Charles met a man by the name of James Delano Ellis who was in his Air Force unit. James, or Jim, lived on base and dabbled with the guitar and sang. Ellis was originally from Oxford, Arkansas but graduated from Battle Creek Central High School. He enlisted in the Air Force to avoid the draft, and stationed at Fort Custer. As Charles would later begin some songwriting, Ellis would become a co-writer (in lyrics only) on a few songs, to include Face of An Angel, Happiness, and The Night of the Prom, all written and copyrighted in 1960.

Bob Popenhagen played Guitar and Organ

One day Westover stopped by a gas station on Capital Avenue in the heart of downtown Battle Creek. It was there that he spoke with a friend, Jim Ray, who worked for the Progressive Oil Company. Charles asked Jim if he could introduce him to Doug DeMott, who was the leader of a country band that played at a local lounge called the Hi-Lo Club, which was inside the Gilbert Hotel located on Capital Avenue (the building was razed in the 1980’s). Later that evening, after being introduced to DeMott, Charles tagged along with Doug and Jim to a party in nearby Urbandale. There, Doug introduced Charles to his good friend Bob Popenhagen, who was a left-handed guitar player and also played organ. DeMott, Popenhagen, and Westover jammed all night into the wee hours on their guitars, entertaining the guests that were at the party that night. As Jim recalled, they were mostly drinking songs, cowboy songs, and Porter Wagoner stuff. Songs that everyone knew. Doug was quite impressed with Charles’ guitar playing, and offered him a spot in his band, The Moonlight Ramblers. DeMott’s current guitar player would be leaving in two weeks, and he needed a replacement. Westover fit the bill and the timing couldn’t have been more right. Charles accepted the offer and this gave him an evening gig to play guitar and make some extra money. When Charles joined the band, the Moonlight Ramblers included: Doug DeMott on vocals and rhythm guitar, Bob Popenhagen on lead guitar, Charles Westover on rhythm guitar, Jimmy Espy on steel guitar, and Loren L.D. Dugger on stand-up bass. With Shirley now working and with Charles’ second job, they were able to afford a new mobile home which they financed, and relocated to a mobile home park in Battle Creek.

We were broke, Shirley recalled, We financed the new trailer and the used ’55 Plymouth. As luck would have it, Ralph Worden and his wife Susie had managed somehow to come across the original sales slip that showed Charles Westover had traded in a 1947 Cadillac 4-door as down payment on the 1955 Plymouth Club Sedan.

Paul and Velma Sittig remembered the Westovers well. We lived near them in the trailer park, recalled Velma in an interview with Dick Schlatter. Shirley and I were pretty close, but Chuck was always working. When he was around, he was kind of quiet and kept mostly to himself.

Melvin Mullins remembered when he met Chuck Westover. I was sitting on my steps outside our mobile home pickin’ my guitar and up walked Chuck. I guess our mutual love for playing the guitar is what got our friendship started, he told Dick Schlatter. Vivian Mullins had fond memories of Chuck and Shirley taking their kids out to Eagle Lake on Sunday afternoons in the summer. She also remembers Chuck coming over to borrow her daughter’s tape recorder. He was always recording something. I can’t remember exactly what it was, but it seems like he’d write a song and then record it.

After being discharged from the Air Force, Charles gained employment at Brunswick Corporation’s school equipment division out of nearby Kalamazoo, Michigan, where Bob Popenhagen was already employed. He began nailing legs onto tables, where he befriended his new co-workers Wes Kilbourne, Jim Bonner, Ralph Worden, and of course Bob. Bob was a sheet metal man there. Bonner worked in the model shop. Wes was trying to learn guitar and Bob and Charles would soon take him under their wings. Jim Bonner lived about a 1,000 feet from Bob’s house, so they were neighbors, and Ralph was into cool cars, specifically Chevys. We would all grab lunch at a Bar & Grill there in Kalamazoo, during our shift at Brunswick, Ralph recollected in 2022. Wes recalled in a February 1997 interview: I met Bob Popenhagen through Jim Bonner, we eventually all ended up working at Brunswick together. Bonner was a drinker in them days. I had an amp but I didn’t play guitar too well. Bob needed an amp but played well. Bonner was the middle man. He made a deal with Bob and me. If I agreed to give Bob my guitar amp, Bob agreed in turn to teach me to play. Later, when Charles came into the picture, he also taught Wes some guitar tricks. I worshipped both Bob and Charley, Wes confessed. They were my friends but also my heroes.

Wes Kilbourne and Bob Popenhagen at Brunswick

Charley said one day after working just briefly at Brunswick that he was too smart to be hammering legs onto tables, Wes continued. He told the foreman, who advised Charley that he would have to take an aptitude test to see if he qualified to work somewhere else. Well, he passed the test and Charley became a lift truck driver in the warehouse. Later he worked his way up to billing clerk in the traffic department. In a Brunswick Corporation Newsletter, Volume II No. XV, a blurb about Westover described him as being well liked and a very capable employee who loved music. His fellow employees report that, when he worked at the typewriter, he typed to a rhythm or beat.

Doug DeMott

Doug DeMott had a richer musical background than Charles Westover at the time that he hired him as a guitarist to play in his band at the Hi-Lo Club. DeMott had quite a musical back-story that might go forgotten if not for being documented here.

Born Dorian Douglas DeMott on May 28, 1934 in Battle Creek, DeMott was about seven months older than Westover. Like many others in town, he worked at Kellogg’s Cereal Factory by day. He was a country western singer who had already been a star on radio, television, and stage before Westover came into his life. Probably everything that Westover wanted to be, DeMott already was, except he was still shy his own record, but he was working on that too when he met Charles.

One of Doug’s first venues of any importance was the Louisiana Hayride radio show, broadcast from the Shreveport Municipal Memorial Auditorium in Shreveport, Louisiana, the same show that gave Hank Williams, Elvis Presley, and Johnny Cash their starts. This happened circa 1952 when DeMott was age 18. Louisiana Hayride ranked second only to Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry in terms of importance and was so popular that it was broadcast on a regional 25-station network.

In early 1953, DeMott and seven other musicians formed an octet of local entertainers called The Echo Valley Boys, according to an article in the Battle Creek Enquirer dated January 3, 1954. All eight members of the group were purveyors of Western style ballads and popular music, and had full time jobs in local industrial plants and business firms. Founding members of the group were Rhubarb Jones playing the lead on his steel guitar, Doug DeMott on string bass, Wild Bill Shipley on guitar (from Knoxville, Tennessee), Danny Mack on guitar, Gale Puckett on steel guitar, Whitey Brown on guitar, Curly Ford on Hawaiian guitar, and cousin Joe Highes guitarist, comedian, and novelty dancer. Shipley, Mack, and Brown also doubled on singing the Western songs played by the group. Charles Porter was the group’s business manager. DeMott was only 19 years of age at the time.

The Echo Valley Boys toured for about six months around the Midwest, namely Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio, but also some parts of Tennessee. The octet that had initially formed didn’t stay together for too long as a few members dropped out, got drafted, or were replaced during the tour. By March 27, 1954 when the group played the W.K. Kellogg Auditorium in Battle Creek, one of the steel guitar players was replaced with Vance Cheeseman Stevens, and Smilin’ Steve Stevens and Dulane Gulley were additions to the group. The group was featured weekly on WBKZ-TV channel 64, which was a brand new UHF channel in Battle Creek, having been on the air less than a year.

After being on the road all