TRIBUTE TO DOC WATSON

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The Guide was sad to report, the weekend before his death, that Doc Watson was in critical condition in a North Carolina hospital. Then, we were among the first to report his passing. At that time, we speculated that a great many eulogies and tributes would be forthcoming, and they have been. The Guide is solemnly appreciative that we may bring you a very personal recollection of Doc by someone who interacted with him, who took lessons from Doc, and whose classroom he visited to interact with students. The following is by Los Angeles-based blues master musician, Bernie Pearl.
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It originally ran in the Guide’s June 1, 2012 edition.
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Memories of Doc
by Bernie Pearl
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The news of the passing of the great guitar-man Doc Watson this week evoked some fond memories. I'd like to share them with you.
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The early 1960s were years of great musical discoveries generally, and personally.
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I had met Brownie McGhee and Sonny Terry, Jesse Fuller, Lightnin' Hopkins, Mance Lipscomb, Rev. Gary Davis, and many other greats of American traditional music. I had the opportunity to see them perform many, many times, and had availed myself of their knowledge in informal settings and through paid lessons (Brownie and Lightnin').
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Then came word of the re-discovery of a great Appalachian recording star of the pre-WWII era, Clarence "Tom" Ashley. He had recorded a new LP on Folkways with some of his neighbors, and had appeared at a couple of large festivals back east and [he and his band] were on their way to L.A. to play the Ash Grove, my brother [Ed Pearl]'s club. I bought the disc, "Old Time Music at Clarence Ashley's" (#1), and thought it was interesting and fun, but by then I had made a strong move towards the Blues and little appreciated mountain music.
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The cover of the album depicted a few guys on Toms' front porch back home. In particular, there was a guitarist in work clothes. He was somewhat taller than the rest.

This turned out to be Doc Watson, but I get ahead of myself.
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I was mildly interested in seeing them play, but as they were coming with dulcimer artist Jean Richie, and the Greenbriar Boys, I made sure I was there on opening night.
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My brother asked me to go into the dressing room and make Mr. Ashley and the guys feel welcome. I knocked and was invited in. There sat four men in white shirts and suspenders. As I shook their hands, I noticed something notable about their eyes: Tom Ashley's were slightly crossed, guitarist Clint Howard had enlarged eyes – probable thyroid condition, in retrospect – fiddler Fred Price's eyes were as red as they could be – like he had been awake for 24 hours, which might have been the case.
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And then I shook Doc's hand. It was quite apparent that he was blind. They were all very friendly, and it made me more eager to hear them play. It was not long coming.
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They took the stage, and from the first note they won me over. It was as great a band performance as I have ever seen. Banjoist Tom Ashley was an old medicine show performer and a carrier of the deep Appalachian tradition. His combination of riotous humor, rollicking dance tunes, and deeply moving old songs had us all enthralled. Clint's honky-tonk vocals were raw and all-out, and Fred Price's fiddle was drenched in the blues. But, when it came Doc's turn to sing, it was instantly apparent that he was a star. We all gasped and applauded in stunned and unanticipated appreciation.
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I had the good fortune to be around the group for several days, and at one point I asked Doc if he would give me a guitar lesson. I was into the blues, but still kept at the old-time flat-picked guitar. Besides, what I wanted to learn from Doc were some of his blues licks.
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I offered him $20. He was reluctant to do it, but John Herald of the Greenbriar Boys told him he ought to do it – it was good money. In 1962, I was paying about $45 a month rent. We did have a lesson, and a good time.
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And I did learn some of his blues riffs.
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It didn't take long for Doc Watson to establish himself as a featured performer on his own.
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I was teaching guitar classes at Cal State L.A. in the late 1960s. On one occasion when Doc was in town, touring with his son Merle, I asked if he would come and play for my class. To my amazement, he agreed. Driving to school I asked him why he was doing it, and he replied that these young people could remain his fans and supporters for many years to come. How's that for the long view? [Merle Watson, also an amazing musician, would be killed in a farm tractor accident in 1985, and Doc would establish the annual “Merlefest” in his honor. – ed.]
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I have half-jokingly claimed, in various settings, speaking to students and small audiences, that I am probably the only person they'll ever run into who can state that he had paid lessons with both Lightnin' Hopkins and Doc Watson. I fully expect to be contradicted in my assertion somewhere along the way. But, until then, I'll smile at the unique opportunity I was presented with long ago.
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His brilliant musicianship aside, Arthel "Doc" Watson was a thoughtful, informed, and articulate man. While he was very proud of having made enough of a living to be "off the dole", he was always humble, and always a gentleman, aware of the importance of personal and cultural integrity. He lived an admirable life. He was beloved for good reason. Well done, Doc.
– Bernie Pearl
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The Guide thanks Bernie for permission to publish his personal recollection in tribute to Doc Watson.
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Copyright © 2012, Lawrence Wines and the Acoustic Americana Music Guide.
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