By Paul Freeman [January 1986 article]

This article was written just a few weeks after the tragic loss of Rick Nelson, in a Dec. 31st, 1985 plane crash. For fans of Nelson, one of rock 'n' roll's true pioneers, New Year's Eves have been bittersweet ever since that fateful night.

America's favorite little brother is gone. Rick Nelson died at the age of 45 in a New Year's Eve plane crash. And a little piece of every TV and rock fan died with him.

On December 30, 1985, Nelson performed at PJ's Alley in Guntersville, Alabama, as a favor to Pat Upton. Upton, who was once a member of Nelson's band, co-owns the small club.

At 2 p.m. on December 31, Nelson boarded his ancient DC-3 and headed for a concert date at a Dallas hotel. He never got there. The plane exploded into flames while trying to make an emergency landing at the DeKalb, Texas airport.

Nelson's band -- guitarist Bobby Neal, 38; bass player Pat Woodard, 35; drummer Ricky Intveld, 22; and pianist Andy Chapin, 30 -- perished with him, as did sound man Clark Russell, 35, and Helen Blair, 27, Nelson's fiancee.

The tragedy stunned the nation, which had watched Nelson grow up. As the pain gradually subsided, it was time to reflect on a remarkable career that was so often undervalued.

Eric Hilliard Nelson was born in Teaneck, New Jersey, on May 8, 1940. He plunged into show business as the age of eight. His parents, who had introduced themselves to radio audiences as amiable second bananas on Red Skelton's program, scored a major success with their own radio show, "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet." Ozzie had been a popular bandleader and Harriet had been featured, singing and acting, in a number of movies.

Their radio show was launched in October of 1944, on their ninth wedding anniversary. Audiences immediately responded to the couple's gently comic domestic predicaments. For over three years, the voices of David and Ricky were provided by child actors. That changed in 1948.

David and Ricky were playing tennis with Lindsay Crosby, when he told them he'd be appearing with his father, Bing, on the "Ozzie and Harriet" show. The Nelson boys decided that they, too, belonged on the air.

David, in our April 1984 interview, recalled, "The show would have a preview on Friday night and then air on Sunday. On the week when Bing Crosby was the guest star, they let me and Rick do the preview. My brother got such big laughs, my father had to put us on the show." David was 12; Ricky was eight.

"My father eventually decided to make the move into television. To prove that we could make the transition, he took 'Here Come The Nelsons' (1951) to Universal as a feature film property.

"It had Rock Hudson as the romantic lead," David said. "He was a contract player for the studio at that time. They needed a girl to play opposite him. My father had seen a young actress in a small part in a Columbia picture and had her read for our picture. He thought she'd be great. He went to Universal and told them about her. They said no. They'd decided to use someone who was under contract with them. The girl they rejected was Marilyn Monroe.

"When ABC picked up the TV show, my father went to the studio to arrange space to film it. They said there was no way they would ever let television into Universal."

The TV version of "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet" was introduced in the fall of 1952 and became ABC's first successful situation comedy. Viewers embraced these familial characters -- Ozzie, the childlike bumbler; Harriet the supportive wife and mother; David, the perfect son; and, of course, the irrepressible Ricky.

Right from the start, Ricky, with his natural manner and on-target wisecracks, delighted viewers, especially those in his age group. To parents, David was the ideal. To kids, it was Ricky. They mimicked his catch phrase, "I don't mess around, boy!"They chuckled at his antics as TV's only pre-pubescent Casanova.

Over the years, they shared his adventurous pleasures as he tried his hand at everything from bop dancing to trapeze flying to bullfighting. A wealth of fantasies were lived out on the show. Girls wanted to date Ricky. Boys wanted to be Ricky.

In 1957, Ricky Nelson began to live out the ultimate teenage fantasy. He became a rock 'n' roll star. One night, in 1956, he was out on a date when an Elvis song came on the radio. Ricky's girlfriend oohed and ahhed. To salvage his pride, Ricky announced that he, too, had a record coming out. The girl laughed derisively.

Ricky recorded a demo of the Fats Domino hit, "I"m Walkin'." Much to his surprise, Verve Records wanted to release it as a single, backed by "A Teenager's Romance" as the B-side. Ever perceptive Ozzie, who was not only the star, but the producer, director and chief writer of the series, eagerly featured the 16-year-old Ricky's musical talents in an episode titled "Ricky, the Drummer." It aired April 10, 1956. The response was phenomenal. Within a week, Ricky's debut single had sold over a million copies.

Music had always been an important part of Ricky's life. At the age of six, he'd curl up by the heater and listen to symphonies for hours. At nine, he started collecting progressive jazz records. Soon, listening wasn't enough. He wanted to play music. He studied clarinet. Then he took up drums. He practiced so long and so loud that his parents finally sound-proofed his room.

In the mid-50s, Ricky fell under the spell of Carl Perkins and Elvis Presley. For his 17th birthday, Ozzie and Harriet, succumbing to innumerable less-than-subtle hints, bought him his own guitar.

David revealed, "I taught him the first three chords he learned. Everything he played for a while was in C. I was really proud of my brother. He decided what he wanted to do and he did it. When Rick started singing, it gave the show a big boost."

"The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet" featured Ricky's rock renditions on a regular basis. He'd be shown crooning his latest single at frat parties as dreamy-eyed girls swayed back and forth. Or he would wail on electrifying rockabilly numbers as the kids danced exuberantly.

Ricky made rock 'n' roll music acceptable. Parents were much more comfortable with the image of the clean-cut Nelson boy than that of the wildly erotic Presley.

And yet, Nelson admitted, when I interviewed him in May of 1984, there was criticism. "People wrote in saying, 'How can you let him play that evil music?' They thought the music was just a fad that'd be gone in a couple of weeks. They had no idea of the kind of long-range impact rock was going to have."

Didn't ABC try to put a stop to Rick's rocking? He remembered, "They didn't have much to say, because my family owned the show. My father was in control. He thought my singing was a good idea. My dad had a band for a long time. My mother was a singer. They were very in tune to all kinds of music."

It wasn't only the older generation that had qualms about Ricky's forays into the realm of rock 'n' roll. In a 1957 magazine interview, Ricky is quoted as saying, "I've received some letters from teenagers who caution me, 'Don't imitate Elvis.' Well, I don't and I won't. A performer should do what is natural, what he feels. He should express himself to the best of his ability. I guess I'm most happy about my records because they show that I can do something on my own. That's what the average kid wants to do -- something on his own."

Most young viewers were thrilled by Ricky's singing. They wanted to see him perform live. He vividly recalled his first concert. It was in front of 20,000 people at the Ohio State Fair in 1957. "It was quite a step; a real challenge. I was so scared, I wondered if I could get the next song out. As the show went on, I really started to enjoy myself."

After becoming embroiled in a lawsuit with Verve over royalty payments, Ozzie switched Ricky to Imperial. With that label, Ricky placed 38 songs on the charts, from 1957 to 1963. Among his blockbusters were "Stood Up," "Be-Bop Baby," "Lonesome Town," "Hello Mary Lou," "Young World," "It's Up to You" and "Teenage Idol."

In that era, only Elvis could compete with Ricky in the teen idol department. Nelson's face graced myriad magazine covers. Adoring fans snapped up Ricky Nelson paper dolls, pillows and comic books. He was showered with 10,000 fan letters per week. Fan clubs sprang up around the world.

"Ozzie and Harriet" provided his sole TV exposure. He and Elvis are the only major rock artists never to have appeared on "American Bandstand."

With the demands of the TV series, concerts, recording and school, free time was at a premium. But the way Ricky spent his leisure hours would turn any red-blooded American boy green with envy. His diversions included dating Hollywood starlets, drag racing, cruising with Gene Vincent, jamming with Eddie Cochran and playing football with Elvis.

In later years, critics frequently dropped Ricky Nelson into the same lightweight category as Fabian, Pat Boone, Paul Anka, Tommy Sands, Frankie Avalon, Bobby Rydell, et al. But Ricky was far more than just a teen idol. His band of rockabilly was the real McCoy. He used top-flight musicians. James Burton, who later played in Elvis Presley's TCB Band, could always be counted on to contribute memorable guitar solos, riffs that influenced generations of players.

On Rick's Imperial label albums, Jimmie Haskell helped out with the arrangements and Ozzie lent his expertise. But basically, Rick produced his own records. He knew the sound he wanted. And he displayed an amazing knack for selecting songs and discovering gifted songwriters. He was among the first to record works penned by Tim Hardin, Eric Andersen, Randy Newman, Willie Nelson, Baker Knight and Bob Dylan.

Sometimes he didn't have to search for new writers. They found him. One day, upon returning home, he saw two young men parked in his driveway. They jumped out, guitars in hand, and played "Believe What You Say" and "Waitin' in School." They were the Burnette brothers, Johnny and Dorsey. Nelson turned both tunes into smashes.

On another occasion, Eddie Cochran's girlfriend, Shari Sheeley, dropped by Nelson's house. After listening to stacks of records, she asked him to play a demo she had written especially for him. He played it three times in a row, without making any comment. At last he said he liked it so much, he was going to record it. The song was "Poor Little Fool," his first number one record.

Another number one hit, "Travelin' Man," was presented on "Ozzie and Harriet" in an innovative fashion. Ricky was superimposed over travelogue footage that complemented the lyrics. Essentially, this was an early rock video, setting the stage for more sophisticated forms that popped up on MTV decades later.

In 1959, Ricky hit the big screen in a big way. He drew rave reviews for his performance as Colorado in the classic Howard Hawks western, "Rio Bravo," which starred John Wayne and Dean Martin. Ricky sang a duet, "My Rifle, My Pony and Me" with Dino. They were joined by a toothless Walter Brennan for a rousing version of "Cindy, Cindy."

Nelson's work in the film impressed Wayne, who said, "He's a real pro -- no wonder he's in the 93 percent income tax bracket."

Most likely, for Ricky, the opportunity to learn gun-twirling, fast draw and trick riding was every bit as appealing as the dramatic challenge the project provided. After all, as a youngster, Ricky frequented The Hitching Post, a movie theater on Hollywood and Vine that featured nothing but westerns. He'd dress up in a complete cowboy outfit and fire his guns at the screen... until an usher confiscated them.

Rick demonstrated his flair for comedy in the feature "The Wackiest Ship in the Army" with Jack Lemmon. In the picture, he sang Fats Domino's "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?"

But Nelson never took his acting career seriously. Music was the driving force in his life Family was also always important to him. His relationships with his parents and brother helped him maintain such charming traits as shyness, sincerity, modesty and sweetness, while receiving enough attention to make anyone else's head swell to the size of the Hollywood Bowl.

Rick (he dropped the "y" at age 21) started a family of his own. On April 20, 1963, he married Kristin Harmon, daughter of football great Tom Harmon and his wife, the lovely actress Elyse Knox. Kris is the sister of actor Mark Harmon.

Sprightly Kris joined the "Ozzie and Harriet" cast, as June Blair had when she married David. No longer would Rick be romancing such lovelies as Linda Evans, Tuesday Weld, Diane Jergens, Luana Patten, Pamela Austin, Beverly Adams and Roberta Shore on the show. He had to assume the role of the perfect young husband. On-screen male buddies, such as Kent McCord and James Stacy, faded away. Skip Young, as Wally, remained the resident buffoon. Rick, stuck in a law office, watched his character grow blander by the episode.

Even his music softened. In 1963, Ozzie negotiated an unprecedented 20-year pact with Decca Records for Rick. They aimed for a more "adult" sound. He still had his hits -- "Fools Rush In" and "For You" to name just a couple -- but his popularity was beginning to wane.

Rick and Kris starred in a pleasant little comedy feature, "Love and Kisses," in 1965. Ozzie directed the film. Rick sang a pretty ballad, "Say You Love Me," and showed off his karate skills.

In 1966, after 14 years and well over 400 entertaining episodes, "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet" went off the air. Rick reappeared later that year, portraying a pop star on the "ABC Stage 67" production, "On The Flip Side." The show, which co-starred Joanie Sommers, featured songs by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. Rick hosted "Malibu U.," a summer replacement variety series set on the beach, in 1967.

During this period, he released two strong country albums. On his "Bright Lights & Country Music" record, he's quoted as follows: "Country music is really, I feel, the basic music of American people; and if you really listen to most of the words in country songs, they're usually very simple and to the point, and I like that."

It was natural for Rick to blend his rock and country roots. His country-rock stylings paved the way for such groups as The Eagles. He formed the Stone Canyon Band in 1969 and dazzled fans and critics alike with an 'In Concert" album recorded live at LA's Troubadour club. The sound had rock 'n' roll bite, sweetened by the superb pedal steel work of the masterful Tom Brumley (formerly of Buck Owens' Buckaroos). Glorious harmonies (with high parts by bassist Randy Meisner) complemented Rick's compelling vocals.

Highlights of the set included Dylan's "She Belongs to Me" and Nelson's own beautiful composition, "Easy to Be Free." Both songs hit the upper middle of the Top 100 singles charts, from which he had been absent for nearly four years.

The uneven, but promising "Rick Sings Nelson" consisted solely of original Nelson songs. Top tracks included an epic "We've Got Such a Long Way to Go," the appealing country-rocker "California" and the lovely ballads "Anytime," "The Reason Why" and "How Long."

"Rudy The Fifth" was even better, a brilliant album that adeptly integrated rock, pop, country, gospel and even classical elements. Rick's "Gypsy Pilot," a searing rocker describing the life of a born performer, became sort of a prescient theme song for the artist. It included an effect at the end that resembled an airplane plummeting and crashing. "The Last Time Around" was another first-rate original. Rick rocked to the max on Leonard Lee's "Feel So Good." His rollicking cover of the Stones' "Honky Tonk Woman" became a staple of his live shows. And a sensitive rendition of Dylan's "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" is another memorable track.

Unfortunately, neither "Rick Sings Nelson" nor "Rudy The Fifth" sold well. At a rock nostalgia concert at Madison Square Garden, Rick was booed, because of his long hair and new tunes, like "Honky Tonk Woman." He turned the devastating experience into a million-seller, "Garden Party," in 1972. It returned Rick to the Top 10.

His 1974 LP, 'Windfall," though it presented country-rock at its zenith, failed to click at the cash register. His subsequent records on Epic and Capitol sold moderately at best. It wasn't a question of quality. He simply couldn't get any radio airplay.

Time and again Rick released terrific records which often had significant commercial potential. Labels constantly mishandled him, baffled as how to market him.

It looked as if Rick was on the verge of a major comeback in 1979. Guitarist John Beland helped him rediscover his roots for a Memphis-based album originally titled "Rockabilly Renaissance." John Fogerty's "Almost Saturday Night" could easily have been a smash for Rick. Rick ripped through a riotous version of the Elvis classic "That's Alright Mama" and an equally exhilarating "Rave On," the Buddy Holly classic. Holly's ballad "True Love Ways" suited Nelson perfectly. Rick did a heart-melting, slowed-down version of Bobby Darin's "Dream Lover." He performed it when he hosted "Saturday Night Live" and the masses should have been rushing out to buy the single on Monday morning. But Epic botched the release, delaying it for weeks so they could add an unnecessary percussion part. When the single finally came out, it only reached the middle of the charts. The record company buried the album. Six years later, it was released as "Memphis Sessions" with glossier production, lacking the full rockabilly edge. [In recent years, however, the original versions have been made available and they stand amongst Nelson's finest works].

1981's "Playing to Win" contained such dynamite material as Graham Parker's "Back to Schooldays" and John Hiatt's "It Hasn't Happened Yet." Rick's renditions made each track a gem. He also delivered a torrid revival of "Believe What You Say." But the album failed to garner the attention it deserved.

Still Nelson refused to disappear. In addition to TV variety shows, he guested on a number of dramatic series. He gave startlingly effective performances, cast against type, as a psychotic rapist on "Owen Marshall" and a homicidal hippie pimp on "Streets of San Francisco."

He also kept touring, playing over 200 concerts a year, in clubs and county fairs. He loved performing too much to ever give it up. But the strain of the road can take a toll on a marriage. Rick and Kris broke up in 1977.

Rick threw himself totally into every performance, regardless of the size of the audience. He'd bound onto the stage, looking young and vigorous, give a friendly wave, strap on his guitar and stride up to the microphone. It was the same old Ricky -- mesmerizing blue eyes, flaring nostrils, curling lip, sheepish grin. Dripping with perspiration, he'd shake his hips, close his eyes and make a song he'd sung thousands of times sound fresh and exciting. At the end of each concert, he'd stroll across the edge of the stage, grasping hands, accepting kisses, signing autographs, while the band kept pounding away. It was what rock 'n' roll is supposed to be. The performer was enjoying himself as much as the audience.

In 1984, Nelson headlined the "Garden Party Revisited" concert -- the same supporting acts, in the same location, years after the original, traumatizing show. This time, the audiences cheered him.

"It was great," Rick told me. "It was a completely different audience. In the 70s, people seemed to be making fun of the 50s and 50s music. Now that type of music has earned more credibility.

"I really like the sound we've got now. It goes back to what I was doing at the beginning."

When I asked if he would ever be too old to rock 'n' roll, Rick said, "I haven't even thought about that... It's never even crossed my mind."

Think about this -- few artists in rock history have had as powerful and lasting an impact as Rick Nelson.

You might enjoy our other Rick-related features:
http://popcultureclassics.com/rick_nelson.html

John Beland Interview:
http://popcultureclassics.com/john_beland.html

James Burton Interview:
http://popcultureclassics.com/james_burton.html