Knee-land or Neigh-land, How Do You Pronounce It?

 

Then-Major Robert Neyland interviewed by CBS Radio's Ted "Mile A Minute" Husing at the 1939 Orange Bowl. In 1939 it was pronounced Neigh-land.

It was 2011, along about the fourth quarter of Tennessee’s game with the University of Cincinnati, when this text message came in to my phone:

“OK …is it Nee-land or Nay-land stadium? Just heard two commentators discussing it.”

The message was from Jo Zimmerman who was watching the game at home on TV.

When I got home, I checked the game film and sure enough ESPN announcers Mike Patrick and Craig James were debating the pronunciation of UT’s Stadium and the nearby Drive. Patrick laughingly suggested that perhaps someone should write a master’s thesis on the pronunciation.

Uh, no need.

When I told Jo the proper pronunciation and that I had answered the question in a column several years earlier, she suggested perhaps it was time to update the column.

I looked it up and I guess it is time to update. It was in 2004 that I addressed the question of how to pronounce the late football coach’s name, and by extension, the stadium and the drive named for him.

When I was at UT in the early seventies, it was always Nay-land Stadium and Nay-land Drive and General Nay-land. But when I moved back in Kingsport in 2002, it was no longer Neigh-land. It was Knee-land.

What happened?

Carol Francisco once told me she had a relative who played football for the General and that he was known then as Nay-land.

Where did the controversy come from?

As it turns out, the coach himself.

To get to the bottom of the controversy back in ‘04, I called the general’s son Bob in Nashville. (Bob died earlier this week at age 93.) Bob lived and worked in Kingsport for 14 years, from 1975 to 1989, serving as a Clerk and Master in the Kingsport office of Sullivan County Chancery Court.

“The family has always pronounced it Knee-land,” Bob told me.

So how where did Nay-land come from? “My dad wasn’t interested, like so many coaches today, in p.r. It was a different time. He never bothered to correct people.”

So, according to the coach’s son, when General Neyland began his tenure as UT football coach in 1926 and people called him Nay-land, he just let it go. And it stuck. For years and years.

1930: R.R. Neyland and his (only) two assistant coaches, Col. Paul B. Parker, line coach who was also Director of Athletics, and W.H. Britton, end coach who also coached basket-ball and track. 

How did it get shifted back to the original pronunciation?

Bob said that goes back to when long-time Voice of the Vols John Ward was a fledgling sportscaster. He supposedly asked General Neyland, then the athletic director, how to pronounce his last name. The General told him that where he came from, Texas, it was Knee-land. So when Ward landed the coveted UT football job in 1968, that’s how he said it.

But that didn’t sit well with two generations of UT fans who were used to hearing it pronounced Nay-land.

Bob Jr. said that after protests from countless UT fans, Ward came up with his own solution to the pronunciation problem. The Vols played in Knee-land Stadium and to get there, you took Nay-land Drive.

1938 football coaches, Blair B. Gullion, J.H. Barnhill, Major W.H. Britton, Neyland, Murray Warmuth and Hugh Faust

 

 

In that same 2011 column I also quoted from a Newsweek story about Apple computer co-founder Steve Jobs and his genius. Among the nuggets in the article was Jobs’ formula for success, which Newsweek called the Ten Commandments of Steve. His commandments live up to his sixth mandate: Simplify.

Here are his Ten Commandments:

1. Go for perfect.

2. Tap the experts.

3. Be ruthless.

4. Shun focus groups.

5. Never stop studying.

6. Simplify.

7. Keep your secrets secret.

8. Keep teams small.

9. Use more carrot than stick.

10. Prototype to the extreme.

 

I was particularly interested in Jobs’ life secrets because I’m a collector of pearls of wisdom from the mouths of geniuses. Not that they’ve helped me much.

One of my favorite formulas (Latin teacher/legend Miss Grace Elmore would insist: formulae) for success comes from oil tycoon J. Paul Getty, who gives this pithy advice in his autobiography “How to Be Rich:”

“Get up early. Work hard. Find oil.”

 

For advice on health, I’ve always liked what my Louisville doctor Steve Wheeler always told me: “The best thing you can do for your health is pick the right parents.”

 

As for personal associations, I try to follow the advice of that great philosopher Groucho Marx, who, according to his autobiography, “Groucho and Me,” sent the following telegram to the Friar's Club of Beverly Hills, where he was a member:

“Please accept my resignation. I don't want to belong to any club that will accept people like me as a member.”

 

John Lennon offered a wry observation about the vagaries of life in his song “Beautiful Boy:”

“Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.”

Apparently Lennon didn’t come up with that line. He got it from – believe this or not – Readers Digest. In 1957 the magazine attributed the quote to Allen Saunders, who wrote the comic strip “Mary Worth.” (New York Post Broadway columnist Earl Wilson recycled it in a 1963 column.)

 

And when it comes to wry observations Jerry Seinfeld is a master:

“It's amazing that the amount of news that happens in the world every day always just exactly fits the newspaper.”

 

Whenever I think someone has misjudged me – or any of my friends – I recall the assessment of a studio executive, after watching a screen test of Fred Astaire:

“Can't sing. Can't act. Balding. Dances a little.”

 

And when I hear someone praise a person for a performance, job or otherwise, I think about all the supporting folks who never get the credit they deserve. Like Fred Astaire’s longtime dance partner Ginger Rogers.

It was always Fred and Ginger this and Fred and Ginger that, never Ginger and Fred.

And I think about a line I saw in the comic strip “Frank and Ernest” many, many years ago:

“Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels.”

 

Another favorite pearl of wisdom comes from Will Rogers (the actor/newspaper columnist/humorist not the Mississippi State quarterback):

“The difference between death and taxes is that death doesn't get worse every time Congress meets.”

 

And finally this nugget from my son’s high school basketball coach Jeff Griffin:

“The best places to coach are at an orphanage or in prison. At an orphanage there are no parents. At a prison there are no alums.”

1932: Tennessee 6, Kentucky 6. (I love old ground level photos of football games.)

 

Kids Say the Darndest Things ... About Valentine's Day

 A Kid's Eye View of Valentine's Day

Gene Leach didn't have to do any acting in this Valentine's Day picture. During the shooting, he kept asking when he could quit. And when he returned to his Miller-Perry Kindergarten class and the other kids asked where he'd been, he said, "Getting kissed." His classmate Leslea Peters did the kissing. Before the picture-taking session started, she explained that she and Gene were friends and that they even had the same cold.

 

In February 1976 I visited Miller-Perry School to talk to kindergartners about Valentine's Day. 

Here is my story from that visit:

 

Allen Funt and Art Linkletter never had it so good.

When they were sitting around trying to elicit pearls of wit and wisdom from young minds, they were only dealing with three kids, four maximum.

But when I went to Miller Perry Kindergarten to talk about Valentine's Day with Mary Jane Hunt's class, I had to deal with 21 kids. All at one time.

My original intent was to talk to one kindergarten couple about what it's like to be young and in love at Valentine's Day. But there was a problem:

RANDY: My girlfriend is Leeona.

LEEONA: He's not my boyfriend. My boyfriend is Ronnie.

RONNIE: I was in love with Chris Ann, but now I like Vickie.

ROBERT: I like Vickie.

CHRIS COLE: Everybody likes Vickie.

It seems kindergarten couples are really threesomes and foursomes and all possible combinations. Society hasn't quite stamped them with its conventions, so they're perfectly content to love two, three, or ten girlfriends, boyfriends or both. Little kids want to marry their mommies, daddys, and, yes, heaven forbid, the Newspaper Man. (Both Lori Taylor. and Mack Ray. told me they wanted to marry me.)

So we started out our round table discussion with the kids Mary Jane thought would be good talkers. But you can't get little kids to say funny things on demand. In fact, after my three hours of cross-examining, I'm beginning to wonder how many miles of film Allen Funt has to throw away to get those two or three minutes of cuties he shows on "Candid Camera."

When we started, the kids were primed to talk into a tape recorder. But my tape recorder picked this day to exhaust its batteries: Sure, they could still talk into a tape recorder. But nothing came back out.

With no tape recorder for a novelty and no puppy love couple like I'd planned on, I had to fall back on my reporting background. But I'd never interviewed a five-year-old kid before.

How do you interview a little kid?

The answer is: you don't. They interview you. Ask a question, you get it right back.

Q: Who's your girlfriend:

A: Vickie. Who's yours?

Q: Do you think you'll get married?

A; I don't know. Are you married?

It's a hey-who's-this-story-about-anyway? When the tape recorder expired, I had to take notes. And little kids, who, according to their teacher, don't like to write as part of their school work, suddenly wanted to sign their names in my pad.

So my notes from the morning with the kids are half my notes and half theirs.

Even when I got my pad back to take notes, I was intimidated. They wanted to know what I was writing. I could sympathize with them. I remember what it was like to see writing and not know what it meant. The whole world is an "us" and you're a "them." Our round table discussion rapidly turned into a revolving door round table. Some kids would tire of talking about "that old love stuff" and would head off to the block room, and Mary Jane would trot some new ones in. It seemed no one wanted to answer some of my questions and then, when we finally hit upon a question someone wanted to answer, everyone wanted to answer it. And all at the same time,

I found myself nodding at Randy, looking at Angie, and listening to Ronnie. Meanwhile Mack was giving my hand a karate chop and Leeona was pulling my pad away.

I was Gulliver and the Lilliputians were winning again.

(My day at the kindergarten was proof positive that in the land of the little people, the giant would not be king.)

By lunch I had four pages of notes, four pages of scrawl, and the hope that my memory would retain what I didn't get to write during those long periods when Mack was working on his story in my pad.

For lunch I was assigned to the “Snoopy” group, which meant I sat on a chair the size of a stool and opened catsup, and mustard packages for Angie who didn't use them anyway. Angle told me she wanted to kiss me (and did), Chris told me that if I ate everything on my plate I would get a surprise. Alan told me that when they called "Snoopys" we were supposed to get in a straight line and put our trash in the can, and Lari told me she loved me.

Photographer Earl Carter came after lunch and we had another round table discussion while he took pictures. Ronnie Culhane again told us about Don Cupid. Chris Cole reiterated his belief that Superman started Valentine's Day, and Angie Smith begged for relief from talking about "this love stuff."

Before I left, they gave me a Valentine they'd all signed. And Angie whispered to me that I had to promise to send her a Valentine and that she would send me one.

As I drove away, I was envious of Mary Jane because she gets paid to spend all day with those interesting little kids. But then I realized she's probably envious of me. Because I get to drive away.

 

The children in Mary Jane Hunt's kindergarten class at Miller-Perry School talked about Valentine's Day, love and marriage one day this past week. Joining in the discussion were Leeona Long, Alan Ward. DeAnne Riley, Monte Powers, Wesley Marshall, Mack Ray, Randy Weiberg, Angie Smith, Ronnie Culhane, Chris Cole, Michael McNew, Gene Leach, and Leslea Peters.

 

On dating

CHRIS: I don't ever go on dates. It's too much trouble. And besides I don't know where she lives.

Q: How do you get a date?

RANDY: You just kiss her and keep on kissing her until you get a date.

LEEONA: If I get married, I'll give someone my cold

 

Q: What is love?

WESLEY: Love means to put your arm around someone.

ANGIE: I gotta get out of this love stuff.

WESLEY: It's when you have a baby. Then you name it Scratch, because it itches.

DEANNE: When you marry somebody, that's love.

RANDY: When you get in love, you feel like hearts are all around your head.

RONNIE: I like Vickie because she wears pretty dresses.

 

Q: What do you look for in a girlfriend?

CHRIS: I look for good hair.

Q: How do you get a girlfriend?

RONNIE: You dress up good and clean.

ANGIE: You just pick out a girl you like and go grab her.

Q: I don't have a girlfriend: What should I do to get one?

GENE: You don't have a girlfriend? I've got ten. I'll give you one of mine. I'll give you Allison.

Q: Where is she?

GENE: Oh, she's sick today,

Q: How could I get a girl friend?

LORI: 1 could loan you my Donnie Osmond record. Then you could get her some candy and take her to the movie.

Q: Which movie?

MONTE: Take her to see Snow White.

RONNIE: That's for kids!

WESLEY: Take her to see JAWS.

MACK: Take her to see a scary movie.

RONNIE: Then she'd snuggle up to you.

Q: What makes a good girlfriend?

GENE: It should be someone who lives down the street.

Q: Who is your girlfriend?

WESLEY: Vickie. I don't know quite why. It's a long story.

 

On marriage

Q: Are you going to get married?

LEEONA: No, I better not. 'Cause then someone would get my cold.

Q: How do you get a wife?

MACK: You gotta say I love you, then you write their name down and you've got a wife.

 

On kissing

Q: How do you know when you want to kiss someone?

GENE: My mind just makes me kiss her.

Q: What does it feel like to kiss?

WESLEY: It feels like you've got paint in your eye.

 

 

Q: What should I get her for Valentine's?

WESLEY: Get her a heart, like the one here on the left side.

Q: What would she do with it?

WESLEY: I don't know. I'd eat it.

Q. Why do we have Valentine's Day?

GENE: Because of Easter.

MACK: So we can have something to eat.

RONNIE: Because of Don Cupid. I heard him at our door. He takes all the hearts and then he brings them back. He's about our size only a little smaller.

Q: (A cupid silhouette is pointed out on the wall) Is that him up there?

RONNIE: No, that's a fairy.

Q: What do you plan to do on Valentine's Day?

CHRIS: Watch cartoons

Q: Who started Valentine's Day?

ALAN: God.

LESLEA: Jesus

CHRIS: Superman

Q: What did they do on the first Valentine's day?

CHRIS: Superman made Valentines.

MONTE: They ate turkey.

 

The Tangled History of The Drifters

 

1954 ad for The Drifters at Harlem's Apollo. 

When Charlie Thomas died earlier this week, the New York Times tried to report on his place in musical history, in particular the history of the Drifters.

They had a hard time parsing it all out. With good reason: the history of the Drifters is very confusing.

What the Times did settle on was this: Thomas sang lead on the Drifters’ hits “Sweets for My Sweet” (which peaked at No. 16 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in 1961), “When My Little Girl Is Smiling” (which topped out at No. 28 in 1961), and on “I Don’t Want to Go On Without You” (the flip side of “Under the Boardwalk” in 1964). He sang on – but did not sing lead on many of their best-known hits from the early sixties, including “There Goes My Baby,” “Up on the Roof,” and “Save the Last Dance for Me,” the group’s only number one hit.  

 

1960 photo from New York Age newspaper. 

I tried to unravel the story of the Drifters in 2007, after the death of another lead singer, Bill Pinckney, who was touted at the time as an original Drifter.

Here’s what I wrote:

 

The Drifters are well known for such beach music hits as “Under the Boardwalk,” “Save the Last Dance for Me” and “More Than a Number in my Little Red Book.”

As it turns out Bill Pinkney didn’t sing on any of those songs. And here’s the rub: original isn’t always original and sometimes that doesn’t even matter.

Pinkney was a member of the original Drifters, but that’s Original Drifters with a capital “O.”

He was not an original original Drifter. He was part of the second organization of the group, one sometimes called the classic Drifters. But by the time the group had any of those beach music hits, he had already left the group in a dispute over money. Still his rich bass voice is well-known with the Drifters because he sang lead on the group’s 1954 do-wop take on “White Christmas,” a record made famous in the 1990 movie “Home Alone.”

1954 story about Drifters appearance at the Apollo. 

The Drifters are just one of a number of early rock groups that are still playing dates around the country despite the fact that most if not all their “original” members are dead or no longer with the group.

In fact a friend of mine at the Kansas City Star newspaper was all set to cover a concert by the Coasters when he discovered the group that would be performing in K.C. had exactly zero members of the original group. When my reporter-friend confronted the group’s manager, the guy explained that he had purchased the group name years earlier and was perfectly within his rights to promote a show by “The Coasters.”

That’s pretty much the story of The Drifters, too.

And if you get technical about it you probably wouldn’t want to see the real original Drifters since they never had a hit. The beach music Drifters were the fourth major iteration of the group.

The original Drifters were formed in 1953 by Clyde McPhatter after he left the Dominoes and had only one recording session. That group was made up of McPhatter, William “Chick” Anderson, David Baldwin (brother of author James Baldwin), James “Wrinkle” Johnson and “Little Dave” Baughan and had one release, “Lucille,” which was not a hit.

1958 story in the Charlotte News. 

McPhatter disbanded that group and recruited Gerhart Thrasher, Andrew Thrasher, Willie Ferbee, Walter Adams and Bill Pinkney. This is the group that released the 1953 hit “Money Honey.”

McPhatter was drafted in 1954 and sold out to manager George Treadwell. From then on it was constant turnover. McPhatter was replaced by original original Dave Baughan, who was soon replaced by Johnny Moore of the Hornets, who was drafted and replaced by Bobby Hendricks of the Swallows.

Bill Pinkney was fired in 1958 after asking for a raise. Later that same year after a group member got in a fight with the manager of the Apollo Theater, manager Treadwell fired everyone and replaced them with members of the Five Crowns, whose lead vocalist was Ben Nelson, who would later be known as Ben E. King.

Whew! And we are only up to 1958.

Pinkney then put together a group he called the Original Drifters. That group toured for the next ten years as a trio, quartet and quintet that rotated personnel. Pinkney managed to keep a Drifters group touring for the next 40 years, until his death July 4, 2007. Bill Pinkney’s Original Drifters last appeared in the Kingsport area in Coeburn in August 2006 at Wise County’s 150th birthday celebration. They were scheduled to appear on the Fourth of July at Daytona Beach’s Red, White and Boom celebration in 2007.

"Original Drifters" show in Owensboro, Ky. in 1960.

If you think this is complicated, realize this doesn’t include the subsequent iterations of the Drifters under Ben E. King and his successors as lead singer, Johnny Lee Williams and Rudy Lewis.

By my rough count at least sixty people sang with the “Drifters” over the years.

The Original Drifters were still performing in 2022 - this show was in Clearwater, Fla. 

At one time there were four groups touring under the name “Drifters,” all with legitimate ties to the group.

There are even two different Tams groups currently touring [in 2007], each featuring one original Tam. The Rhythm in Riverview show [that summer] features Robert Lee Smith and the Tams. Smith was part of the group that was founded in Atlanta in 1952 as the Four Dots. The other touring Tams is the Joe Pope Tams, featuring original Tam Charles Pope. (Joe Pope, Charles’ brother and a group original, died in 1996.)

If you want to know the history of the Coasters, another group of many iterations, you’ll have to do that research yourself.