happybirthdayusa

Once upon a time, on each fourth of July, a small town in Virginia boiled down everything good about this fine country and served it up in a celebration known as "Happy Birthday USA." It featured one of the most popular American musical groups of the last half century, a huge parade, entertainment from morning til night, capped off with fireworks...all free to anyone who wanted to show up. When the event began in 1969 a few thousand locals joined the fun; within a few years annual attendance surpassed 100,000. Now try to imagine that after 25 years, the cumulative number of arrests relating to the event totalled less than 10.

It all happened in Staunton, Virginia, nestled on a few small hills in the Shenandoah Valley. It's a quiet, mom-and-apple-pie sort of place where neighbors engage in front porch conversations about fishing and little league fundraisers. For years, Staunton's (pronounced Stan-ton) biggest claim to fame lay in the fact that it was birthplace to Woodrow Wilson. It bumped along, like any other sleepy hometown USA, content with its local museum and sewing circles.

During the 1960's a homegrown vocal quartet scored an unlikely pop hit and Grammy Award with a quirky tune called "Flowers on the Wall". Local boys Harold and Don Reid, along with Phil Balsley and a capable singer from nearby Waynesboro named Lew DeWitt, had stumped around for a few years singing in local churches as the Timbermen or Holy Pines or something like that. After hitting the road as a regional touring act and finding that a more accomplished group was using the same name, Harold and Don creatively borrowed a new moniker from a tissue box and have since been known as the Statler Brothers.

The Statlers started the July 4th tradition by presenting an afternoon concert, a sort of "thank you" for the townsfolk. Within a couple of years the show moved into the high school football stadium, and eventually outgrew that venue and moved next door to the minor league baseball park.

By the 1980's Happy Birthday USA was the "happening" July 4th event in Virginia, complete with committees, multiple warm up acts, visits from the Governor and other politics. I had known about this event for a few years, and always said it was one of those things I'll do someday. Prior to the 1994 show, the Statlers announced that it would be their last. As a fan, I recognized that it was now or never.

In mid-June 1994 I began making a couple of advance phone calls. My first was to the Statler Brothers World Headquarters/Museum complex in the heart of Staunton. The woman who answered was pleasant, but a little puzzled by my call.

"No...there are no tickets...you just go. It's free." She went on to explain "If you really need more information you should just pick up a copy of the newspaper when you arrive; it will explain how to set up the chairs."

Being a lifelong resident of the New York metro area, this whole story about free tickets, reading a newspaper, and setting up chairs sounded strange to say the least. I located a number for the chamber of commerce, and was given basically the same story.

"Ahh. Oh...yes, well then, no, you don't need anything special. I don't believe we get many people from New Jersey. All you need to do is get one of the newspapers and that will tell you when to set up the chairs and everything else you need to know."

July 2, 1994 we rolled into sunny Staunton, picked up the newspaper explaining the chair procedure, and checked in at a nearby campground. This was our first family camping trip, and thus we spent a couple hours unloading and setting up our brand new cabin tent, sleeping bags, stove, tarps, cooking gear, lantern, fishing poles, backpacks, and a whole mess of other camping stuff.

The only item we had overlooked during the shopping extravaganza was, naturally, the all-important chairs. So it was off to the Staunton Wal-Mart, where I was able to requisition two comfortable folding lawn chairs, one large black magic marker (for the chairs) and a rather sizable package of fireworks for about 15 bucks.

July 3, at the football stadium, I checked with a policeman for clarification on the whole process. "Just go put your chair in line up there. Come back tonight, after the gospel show is over, and wait by your chair. Then the line moves in and you set up your chair in the baseball stadium."

With that, I entered the stadium, and set up my chairs on the 30 yard line, next to a set of rather nice cushioned seats with hand painted, decorative hanging signs. I returned to the campground, and tried to explain the whole process to Sandy, who responded with a puzzled "what have we got to lose" look.

Returned at 11:00 pm to find a football stadium filled with thousands and thousands of chairs, all neatly lined up. I was informed that the concert was running late. So I chatted amiably with my neighbors, all of us sitting in or standing by our chairs. The conversation was pleasant for about 45 minutes, until I was asked the dreaded "where are you from" question. My answer was received with everything from sidelong glances to averted glances, and a clearly audible gasp from someone behind. From that point on I was politely ignored, although they probably kept an eye on me just in case.

At half past midnight a young man (one of the nearby chair people) left to inquire about the delay. He returned 15 minutes later, saying that "tempers are getting pretty short up by the gate!" I asked him what he meant by that, and he replied "I think one woman cussed...well, I don't know that she actually cussed, but she sounded real close to cussing!"

Row by row we moved to the gate, and soon crossed into the expansive baseball park, which had hundreds of chalk marked rows. I picked a spot near second base, roughly 40 yards from the stage. I returned to the campsite by 1:00 am, at which time Sandy awoke to inquire if it was as crazy as promised. I answered that in a way, yes; yes it was.

The morning parade was led by Virginia Governor George Allen, on horseback, waving his cowboy hat like a young Roy Rogers. Bands, clowns, marchers, then Senator Charles Robb, followed by his opponent, Ollie North. They in turn were followed by a variety of local or little-known celebrities, until finally, the Statler Brothers on a flatbed truck. Moving slowly, at least one of the Statlers somehow managed to make eye contact with, and wave at, every single person along the route. Believe it or not, it seemed quite genuine. The day continued with a small carnival, miniature train rides, and assorted concerts at the ballfield. Seeing all these events unfold, I began to understand why 100,000 folks would show up for this, why they would arrange seating in a painstaking but fair process, and why Statler fans might come close to "cussing" but somehow hold back. Woodstock could learn a thing or two from Staunton.

With a secure parking spot near the park, I had hoped to see the event through to the evening before leaving. Unfortunately, twin three-year-olds Ally and Brynn had other plans, and we returned to camp for a few hours prior to the big event. Upon our return, I planned to drive as close as possible to drop the ladies off, then scout out a parking space and make what promised to be a long walk to the concert field. As we approached, we began to see what 100,000 people crammed onto a baseball field, grandstands, and street looked like. To my surprise, I was permitted to drive right to the ballpark, and drop my family off right at the front gate. Being from New Jersey, I hadn't planned for this, and in my surprise I almost missed the fact that my earlier parking space was still vacant just two short blocks away.

Within a few minutes I was at our seats, and the concert was due to start in ten. The twins busied themselves by playing in their cute, matching concert-going outfits by rolling around in the second base dust. This elicited quite a few chuckles from the nearby concertgoers. Fortunately, nobody asked "where we were from."

The show began promptly. With county fair aplomb, the announcer introduced "the most awarded act in the history of country music...the Statler Brothers!" Whereupon Harold, Phil, Jimmy and Don walked on to the opening chords of "Years Ago." While the audience sweltered in the summer heat, the Statlers churned out the hits in suits and ties and didn't appear to break much of a sweat. That is not to say they did not have a dynamic stage presence; just that they were obviously pros, unaffected by the heat.

Every song was met with loud applause. After the sun set, Jimmy Fortune launched into "More than a Name on a Wall," a touching tribute to a soldier killed in Vietnam. This number drew the longest, most earnest applause -- fitting the July 4 holiday nicely. The Statlers burned through big hits and a few minor favorites, with none of the "new ones" or lengthy tune-ups required at any rock concert.

Despite the fact that they performed quite a few numbers, the show seemed to end too soon. They sang a couple of patriotic numbers, and played an encore. Then it was over. While a few people rushed out, most stayed for the fireworks show, which was truly a pleasure. When it was all over, we walked to our car and prepared for the promised traffic nightmare.

If you ever have an opportunity to visit Staunton, be sure to see the monument dedicated to the Statler Brothers. It looks like a tombstone, but that doesn't really matter. The celebration of a quieter, simpler life in small town USA will live on in the Statler's songs for years to come.



	Happy Birthday USA Rick Bolger Once upon a time, on each fourth of July, a small town in Virginia boiled down everything good about this fine country and served it up in a celebration known as "Happy Birthday USA." It featured one of the most popular American musical groups of the last half century, a huge parade, entertainment from morning til night, capped off with fireworks...all free to anyone who wanted to show up. When the event began in 1969 a few thousand locals joined the fun; within a few years annual attendance surpassed 100,000. Now try to imagine that after 25 years, the cumulative number of arrests relating to the event totalled less than 10. It all happened in Staunton, Virginia, nestled on a few small hills in the Shenandoah Valley. It's a quiet, mom-and-apple-pie sort of place where neighbors engage in front porch conversations about fishing and little league fundraisers. For years, Staunton's (pronounced Stan-ton) biggest claim to fame lay in the fact that it was birthplace to Woodrow Wilson. It bumped along, like any other sleepy hometown USA, content with its local museum and sewing circles. During the 1960's a homegrown vocal quartet scored an unlikely pop hit and Grammy Award with a quirky tune called "Flowers on the Wall". Local boys Harold and Don Reid, along with Phil Balsley and a capable singer from nearby Waynesboro named Lew DeWitt, had stumped around for a few years singing in local churches as the Timbermen or Holy Pines or something like that. After hitting the road as a regional touring act and finding that a more accomplished group was using the same name, Harold and Don creatively borrowed a new moniker from a tissue box and have since been known as the Statler Brothers. The Statlers started the July 4th tradition by presenting an afternoon concert, a sort of "thank you" for the townsfolk. Within a couple of years the show moved into the high school football stadium, and eventually outgrew that venue and moved next door to the minor league baseball park. By the 1980's Happy Birthday USA was the "happening" July 4th event in Virginia, complete with committees, multiple warm up acts, visits from the Governor and other politics. I had known about this event for a few years, and always said it was one of those things I'll do someday. Prior to the 1994 show, the Statlers announced that it would be their last. As a fan, I recognized that it was now or never. In mid-June 1994 I began making a couple of advance phone calls. My first was to the Statler Brothers World Headquarters/Museum complex in the heart of Staunton. The woman who answered was pleasant, but a little puzzled by my call. "The Statlers will certainly be at Happy Birthday USA, but that's not until July. The Museum will be open then." I explained that I was calling about Happy Birthday USA, not the museum. "Well that takes place across the street, but like I said, we'll be open." Can I still get tickets? How much is admission? "Oh, the Statlers don't charge their fans to visit the museum," her tone indicated that she wondered just what type of person would ask such a question. I explained that I was referring to the concert...could I still get a ticket? "No...there are no tickets...you just go. It's free." She went on to explain "If you really need more information you should just pick up a copy of the newspaper when you arrive; it will explain how to set up the chairs." Huh? Being a lifelong resident of the New York metro area, this whole story about free tickets, reading a newspaper, and setting up chairs sounded strange to say the least. I located a number for the chamber of commerce, and was given basically the same story. "It's free. You don't need a ticket." Do I need a reservation? "Huh? Reser..no...where are you calling from?" When I replied "New Jersey," it seemed that my line of questioning suddenly made sense. "Ahh. Oh...yes, well then, no, you don't need anything special. I don't believe we get many people from New Jersey. All you need to do is get one of the newspapers and that will tell you when to set up the chairs and everything else you need to know." I asked what the chair set up was all about. "You bring your chairs to the football stadium." Is that where the concert is? "No, the football stadium isn't big enough. The concert is at the ballfield." July 2, 1994 we rolled into sunny Staunton, picked up the newspaper explaining the chair procedure, and checked in at a nearby campground. This was our first family camping trip, and thus we spent a couple hours unloading and setting up our brand new cabin tent, sleeping bags, stove, tarps, cooking gear, lantern, fishing poles, backpacks, and a whole mess of other camping stuff. The only item we had overlooked during the shopping extravaganza was, naturally, the all-important chairs. So it was off to the Staunton Wal-Mart, where I was able to requisition two comfortable folding lawn chairs, one large black magic marker (for the chairs) and a rather sizable package of fireworks for about 15 bucks. July 3, at the football stadium, I checked with a policeman for clarification on the whole process. "Just go put your chair in line up there. Come back tonight, after the gospel show is over, and wait by your chair. Then the line moves in and you set up your chair in the baseball stadium." I thanked the officer, and commented good-naturedly that the whole thing just sounds a little crazy. "Oh it gets crazy all right...it's a mad rush like you've never seen!" I wondered if my chairs would be alright... "Well, I see you got your name on 'em...they'll be fine, just remember where you put 'em." With that, I entered the stadium, and set up my chairs on the 30 yard line, next to a set of rather nice cushioned seats with hand painted, decorative hanging signs. I returned to the campground, and tried to explain the whole process to Sandy, who responded with a puzzled "what have we got to lose" look. Returned at 11:00 pm to find a football stadium filled with thousands and thousands of chairs, all neatly lined up. I was informed that the concert was running late. So I chatted amiably with my neighbors, all of us sitting in or standing by our chairs. The conversation was pleasant for about 45 minutes, until I was asked the dreaded "where are you from" question. My answer was received with everything from sidelong glances to averted glances, and a clearly audible gasp from someone behind. From that point on I was politely ignored, although they probably kept an eye on me just in case. At half past midnight a young man (one of the nearby chair people) left to inquire about the delay. He returned 15 minutes later, saying that "tempers are getting pretty short up by the gate!" I asked him what he meant by that, and he replied "I think one woman cussed...well, I don't know that she actually cussed, but she sounded real close to cussing!" Row by row we moved to the gate, and soon crossed into the expansive baseball park, which had hundreds of chalk marked rows. I picked a spot near second base, roughly 40 yards from the stage. I returned to the campsite by 1:00 am, at which time Sandy awoke to inquire if it was as crazy as promised. I answered that in a way, yes; yes it was. The morning parade was led by Virginia Governor George Allen, on horseback, waving his cowboy hat like a young Roy Rogers. Bands, clowns, marchers, then Senator Charles Robb, followed by his opponent, Ollie North. They in turn were followed by a variety of local or little-known celebrities, until finally, the Statler Brothers on a flatbed truck. Moving slowly, at least one of the Statlers somehow managed to make eye contact with, and wave at, every single person along the route. Believe it or not, it seemed quite genuine. The day continued with a small carnival, miniature train rides, and assorted concerts at the ballfield. Seeing all these events unfold, I began to understand why 100,000 folks would show up for this, why they would arrange seating in a painstaking but fair process, and why Statler fans might come close to "cussing" but somehow hold back. Woodstock could learn a thing or two from Staunton. With a secure parking spot near the park, I had hoped to see the event through to the evening before leaving. Unfortunately, twin three-year-olds Ally and Brynn had other plans, and we returned to camp for a few hours prior to the big event. Upon our return, I planned to drive as close as possible to drop the ladies off, then scout out a parking space and make what promised to be a long walk to the concert field. As we approached, we began to see what 100,000 people crammed onto a baseball field, grandstands, and street looked like. To my surprise, I was permitted to drive right to the ballpark, and drop my family off right at the front gate. Being from New Jersey, I hadn't planned for this, and in my surprise I almost missed the fact that my earlier parking space was still vacant just two short blocks away. Within a few minutes I was at our seats, and the concert was due to start in ten. The twins busied themselves by playing in their cute, matching concert-going outfits by rolling around in the second base dust. This elicited quite a few chuckles from the nearby concertgoers. Fortunately, nobody asked "where we were from." The show began promptly. With county fair aplomb, the announcer introduced "the most awarded act in the history of country music...the Statler Brothers!" Whereupon Harold, Phil, Jimmy and Don walked on to the opening chords of "Years Ago." While the audience sweltered in the summer heat, the Statlers churned out the hits in suits and ties and didn't appear to break much of a sweat. That is not to say they did not have a dynamic stage presence; just that they were obviously pros, unaffected by the heat. Every song was met with loud applause. After the sun set, Jimmy Fortune launched into "More than a Name on a Wall," a touching tribute to a soldier killed in Vietnam. This number drew the longest, most earnest applause -- fitting the July 4 holiday nicely. The Statlers burned through big hits and a few minor favorites, with none of the "new ones" or lengthy tune-ups required at any rock concert. Despite the fact that they performed quite a few numbers, the show seemed to end too soon. They sang a couple of patriotic numbers, and played an encore. Then it was over. While a few people rushed out, most stayed for the fireworks show, which was truly a pleasure. When it was all over, we walked to our car and prepared for the promised traffic nightmare. In 16 minutes we were back at the campground. If you ever have an opportunity to visit Staunton, be sure to see the monument dedicated to the Statler Brothers. It looks like a tombstone, but that doesn't really matter. The celebration of a quieter, simpler life in small town USA will live on in the Statler's songs for years to come.
				Click here for a brief bio of the Statler Brothers.