Prologue

At the peak of his career, country singer Gary Stewart reminisced about his Florida hometown and its importance to him:

The biggest reason I’m here is because this is what’s really me. My momma and daddy are here, my wife, my kids. Some day I might spend more time here. I ain’t figured out how to write about Florida yet, but maybe I will. Maybe about the palm fronds. About what’s the real thing in Florida. This is my own world. I can get away from anything here.[i]

Anything except for himself. For those like Stewart caught in the whirlpool of drugs and depression, “home” becomes a metaphor for safety—a refuge from devils within and without. But sometimes, home isn’t enough.

On another level, the concept of “home” is essential for country musicians, as it represents authenticity. Moreover, country music as a genre stands against the forces of modern society that often lead people to move away from their families and lose connections with their roots. As a result, the public image of a rising country star usually incorporates symbols of home and family.

The role of journalists

Journalists played a pivotal role in shaping Stewart’s image, especially those at his hometown newspaper, the St. Lucie News Tribune. In fact, as music critics lauded the late singer-songwriter for his authentic reinterpretation of honky-tonk music, they often focused on his ties to his hometown.

Born in Kentucky, Gary Stewart grew up in Fort Pierce, Florida where the Tribune extensively covered his rise. Accordingly, Tribune writers meticulously chronicled Stewart’s journey as a musician, from winning local music competitions to breaking into the country music charts.

Given hindsight, these articles fascinate us because we know Stewart is destined for the big time. However, when the earliest articles were written, readers had no idea this hometown musician would one day reap fame and glory.

Drinkin’ doubles

When Gary Stewart paid his dues in bars in St. Lucie County in the early 1970s, I was a bar-hopping rock fan in neighboring Martin County. I knew a circle of excellent musicians who backed him up occasionally, but unfortunately, I never heard Stewart play [groan of regret].

But I had begun to open my ears to country music thanks to my Dad. He grew up on a Nebraska farm and listened to country music since the birth of the radio. After moving to Florida, his family kept a fiddle hanging in the living room, played by an itinerant fiddler who occasionally passed through town. With neighbors helping, they’d pull all the living room furniture back to the wall and dance as the fiddler called the tunes.          

Later, Dad followed country music on the Grand Ole Opry and other TV shows a generation later. Indeed, this was where I first heard Stewart’s voice in 1975.

Click here to listen to “She’s Actin’ Single and I’m Drinkin’ Doubles.”

Accordingly, the song hooked me and millions of other listeners. Furthermore, it shot up in the charts, and the music press instantly turned its gaze to Stewart.

An Empty Glass

Undeniably, as the son of a Kentucky coal miner, Gary Stewart came into the world with country music credentials. In fact, nothing signifies country cred like “coal miner’s kid,” just ask Loretta Lynn. Accordingly, Stewart brought this rural working-class credibility to his songs of heartbreak, betrayal, and loneliness, songs like “An Empty Glass,”

An empty glass

That last cigarette

Closin’ time

And I’m drunk again

But somehow I’ll make it home

And cry myself to sleep

And that’s the way the day ends

Every night for me

Despite his wild ways, Stewart maintained a home and family life in the coastal Florida city of Fort Pierce. His parents moved there in 1959 when Stewart was 15. Undeniably a rural community, if you headed 10 miles west you’d find yourself driving on dirt roads through a landscape of cabbage palm stands, citrus groves, and cattle ranches.

Consequently, Fort Pierce was a hub for country music. For example, the town had a country radio station, and the local drive-in regularly featured country music films. Furthermore, community halls hosted hootenannies and hoedowns with live music. Accordingly the St. Lucie News Tribune‘s regular coverage of these events and Nashville AP stories reflected the town’s love for country music. Country music signifiers were ubiquitous in its pages during the postwar years.     

String Band Competitions

From the early 60s to the early 70s, Gary Stewart doggedly pursued a career in country music. During that time, he moved back and forth between Fort Pierce and Nashville. Accordingly, the Tribune captured critical moments along the way.

Stewart’s debut in the Tribune came in 1961 when he was 17. A band he played in emerged victorious in the string band contest sponsored by the local chapter of the Future Farmers of America. He also clinched the harmonica contest. The following month, Stewart played a harmonica solo at a local church program covered by the Tribune.

Undeniably, in small towns, even small accomplishments are celebrated. Consequently, these articles created an image of Stewart as a country musician with rural values and highlighted the early support for his music in his hometown. They surely bolstered Stewart’s confidence.   

Following this, Stewart played local bars. Rising country singer Mel Tillis, also from Florida, heard Stewart at the Wagon Wheel roadhouse in Okeechobee, Florida, 38 miles west of Fort Pierce in the heart of cattle country. Afterward Tillis urged Stewart to move to Nashville, which he did. There, Stewart wrote songs and released recordings, but with little success.

However, he soon returned to Fort Pierce and resumed playing local gigs, developing a blend of honky-tonk and rockabilly. Following this, Stewart maintained twin occupancies, in his hometown and Music City.

Hometown Star

The Tribune covered several of Stewart’s performances in the early 1970s. For example, they reported on the annual “Grand Ole Opry” show sponsored by the Fraternal Order of Police:

On the bill will be … two local people who are making their mark in the country and western music field, Bill Eldridge and Gary Stewart.[ii]

After that, Stewart returned to Nashville to pursue his dream of being a recording artist. Things clicked this time. In 1973, he signed with RCA and recorded a cover of “Ramblin’ Man” by his friends in the Allman Brothers Band. Duane and Gregg had come up in the same East Coast Florida music scene that Stewart did.

But, the song flopped; Stewart wasn’t destined to be a Southern Rocker. But he did appear on the Porter Wagoner television show that year.  

The following year, Stewart returned to Fort Pierce, but this time as a rising artist. Consequently, he played the St. Lucie County Fair on the “Blue Grass Midway,” featuring performances by regional musicians. The Tribune referred to Stewart as “one of the hot items on the country rock circuit.”[iii]

Indeed, Gary Stewart was a hometown star. 

Counterculture Domesticity

Gary Stewart became a national star three months later when “Drinkin’ Thing” became his first top-ten hit. And then, in October 1974, Stewart released another song that cracked the top ten, “Out of Hand.”

At this point, Tribune writer Julie Sneed conducted what may have been Stewart’s first lengthy interview. Sneed met with Stewart, his wife Mary Lou, and his children in the living room of their modest Fort Pierce house. Consequently, Sneed began her article with this scene:  

Since country and western music has replaced hard rock as an international craze, Stewart’s South 28th St. home has been bombarded with fan mail forwarded by RCA Victor in Nashville …

The Stewarts, both wearing jeans and old Indian-crafted turquoise necklaces, were curled up in Victorian velvet chairs in the living room of their modest wood frame home near Virginia Ave …

12 year old Joey shot past his parents, closing the door of his room behind him. Stewart obligingly switched on one of his award-winning records, “Drinking Thing” …

Indeed, this picture is replete with velvet and lace signifiers of counterculture domesticity, transferred to the outlaw country milieu of the 1970s. Moreover, the scene Sneed painted could have been one of many I experienced at that time around Florida.

Following this, Sneed revealed the importance of home and family to Stewart. 

It’s Them That’s Making You

Sneed said: 

People are the reason the Stewarts intend to stay in Fort Pierce and ignore the high living that so often accompanies fame. When asked if he intends to stay and why, the country singer was emphatic.

“Oh, if I can, yes, I love it. The people, I guess,” said Stewart, explaining they had moved back to Fort Pierce from Nashville four years ago to be near relatives, including Stewart’s parents …

Using the jargon of country folk, Sneed described Stewart’s struggle to the top:

Gary Stewart says he did well in school until his Mama saw to it he got his first guitar at the age of 10. That was back in Kentucky, just before the family moved to Fort Pierce.

It was after he came back to Fort Pierce and was playing with the group at the Wagon Wheel in Okeechobee that Stewart was advised that the best way to break into the music business was by writing songs.

Sneed asked Stewart how he kept things real despite his recent success:

The country star jumped up from the overstuffed velvet chair and rummaged through an ornate and funky Victorian desk.

“Here, look at this,” he said, producing a yellowed photograph of a 1930s western band. “I was telling a fan I met on the road how much I like old things, and she sent me this. It’s a picture she won in a dance contest for being best waltzer. I’m going to hang it in my living room. It’s things like that that make you feel good about the music” …

The Stewarts agreed they always answer the fan mail… “It’s them that’s making you, man. It’s them,” said Stuart.[iv]

Fabricating Authenticity

Unquestionably, Sneed’s text was animated by signifiers of country music authenticity: home, family and friends, Appalachian roots, smoke-filled country bars, and fading photos of country waltzes. In fact, they fit the definition of authenticity as defined by music scholar Richard Peterson in Creating Country Music: Fabricating Authenticity:

The ironic phrase fabricating authenticity is used here to highlight the fact that authenticity is not inherent in the object or event that is designated authentic but is a socially agreed-upon construct in which the past is, to a degree, misremembered. This tailoring of collective memory to serve the needs of the present has been studied by a number of researchers, and they show that the process can take several forms, depending on who has the power to enforce their distinctive interpretation of the past.

Unlike these other situations that have been researched, no authority is in a position to dictate authenticity in country music. Rather … it is continuously negotiated in an ongoing interplay between performers, diverse commercial interests, fans, and the evolving image.[v]

Moreover, this interplay includes the press.

Later in his book, Peterson lists “Signifiers of Artistic Authenticity”:

The verbal accent, vocabulary, grammar, and prior rough work experience affirm that a person is from the great geographic cradle of country music and hasn’t let education get the better of a working-class identification. Performers without this full pedigree have to do special authenticity work to gain acceptance. [vi]  

However, Stewart had the pedigree. Indeed, he only needed acute writers like Sneed to bring it out in articles like “Local Boy Makes Good.” 

Out of Hand

Stewart secured his place in country music history by releasing the album Out of Hand in early 1975. Renowned critic Robert Christgau called it the “best regular issue country LP I’ve heard in about five years” and gave it an A-.

Out of Hand contained Stewart’s past hits, but it was a new release from the album that soared the highest. “She’s Actin’ Single (I’m Drinkin’ Doubles)” nailed the number one spot on Billboard’s Hot Country Songs chart.

Once again, Julie Sneed caught Stewart at home for another revealing interview. The Tribune published Sneed’s article and photos of a pensive but happy Gary Stewart. One caption read,

Tonight, between 6:00 and 9:00 PM, Stewart will autograph his LP album Out of Hand at the Music Bin on Avenue A.

The Music Bin was a Mecca for music enthusiasts like me who shopped for records on Florida’s Treasure Coast in the 1960s and 1970s. The shop carried discount jazz and blues cut-outs from the 1950s but was always the place to find the latest “good” music, like Rolling Stone five-star albums that barely grazed the music charts.  

Record Signing Parties

Sneed wrote:

The star of a recent sellout performance at the London Palladium is signing autographs in Fort Pierce tonight.

Gary Stewart, who grew up singing country music in Fort Pierce, arrived home Monday from a successful European Tour with the Charlie Pride show.

But Stewart, 30, is glad to be home.

“When I’m on the road, I miss my family … miss laying around the house getting high with my friends. I always love to come home,” said the 30-year-old star, who has cut many hit singles but will be autographing copies of his first long-playing album, Out of Hand, between 6:00 and 9:00 PM tonight at the Music Bin on Avenue A …[vii]

Two months later, the Tribune posted another photo of Stewart signing copies of Out of Hand at the Music Bin. The caption read: 

Singer Gary Stewart and his Fort Pierce record signing party at the Music Bin on Ave. A were mentioned in recent issues of The Music Retailer and Rolling Stone. Stewart, who considers Fort Pierce his home, is pictured getting acquainted with some hometown fans.[viii]

There is no measure of authenticity more impactful than a photo of a musician signing records for fans. Double points if it’s a beloved record shop in their hometown.

A Honky-Tonk Aesthetic

Stewart released his second album, Steppin’ Out, in February 1976. John Morthland reviewed the LP in Creem and had this to say:

What most attracted rock fans to Gary Stewart’s first album was his raw, exuberant singing, and the subsequent suspicion that he was really a closet rocker. But while he obviously does have an affinity for rock, this album demonstrates that he is a country singer by choice, not by accident of geography, and that he is also a staunch country music fan.

The songs – hymns to the southern honky tonks and jails, affectionate pokes at redneck pride, tales of sex accepted or rejected on the run have been chosen meticulously to summon up his particular brand of country mythology. It’s all self-conscious enough that lyrics are printed in full on the sleeve (a first, I believe, for country music), and the variety of styles he works adds up to something like a country music Art Statement.[ix]

Penthouse magazine also profiled Stewart. But even as Stewart finally garnered attention in the national music press, he continued to avail himself to his hometown newspaper.

Gary Comes Home

Tribune writer Julie Bartlett published a full-page article about Stewart called “Gary Stewart Comes Home.” Bartlett wrote: 

[Stewart’s] profiled in Penthouse magazine this month [but he] seems unchanged by success. He and his wife, Mary Lou, and their two children, Shannon and Joey, still live in the small frame home near Indian River Community College …[x]

Asked why he moved back to Fort Pierce, Stewart replied:

“I got so homesick I’d come home every now and then and just listen to all my friends, my family, and everything in Fort Pierce. Till I finally said, “I’m going home, I gotta go home” …[xi]

Bartlett presented Stewart as an unassuming celebrity rooted in his hometown:

Keith Hendrick, owner of the Music Bin on Ave., the store that sponsored a Gary Stewart autograph party last year, brought Stewart’s most recent accomplishments to the attention of the News Tribune. [xii]

Stewart shared that the cover photo of Stepping Out was taken “in Saint Lucie County out on 11 Mile Road.” Stewart leans on his 1949 Chevy, parked in an old shed frozen at its angle of repose. He joked, “Gee, I sure hope the owner of that shed don’t sue us.” [xiii]

It’s a Relaxed Life in Fort Pierce

Bartlett interviewed Stewart again in 1977. Once more, Stewart sought refuge in his hometown during a break from his grueling schedule. For months, he’d traveled back and forth between Nashville and Los Angeles, recording his album Your Place or Mine. 

Dave Marsh reviewed the album for Rolling Stone and wrote:

Stewart is coming on more like a rocker than a country singer with each succeeding record … It’s a mixed success. On a rough rocker like “Drinking Again,” Stewart can sound like the greatest Roadhouse singer since Jerry Lee Lewis on some of the others. He sounds like a man who’s either bored or floundering.[xiv]

By all accounts, the road took its toll on Stewart, who was perhaps constitutionally weakened by substance abuse. But Bartlett cited reviewers who called the LP Stewart’s best yet. She quoted Billboard:

Stewart’s remarkable voice, capable of soaring from a whisper to a shout while maintaining a sensuous vibrato, reaches new heights in this high-energy package.[xv]   

Unofficial appearances

Once again, the Music Bin entered the story:

Stewart’s old friend Keith Hedrick at the Music Bin on Atlantic Avenue was watching for the first critique and passed it on to the News Tribune … During the lean years, shortly after Stewart began selling his talent to the Nashville recording industry, the Music Bin featured his singles and first album in their small shop window. Last year, Stewart repaid that trust with an infrequent “official” public appearance at an autographing party for his second LP.

Unofficially, the recording star is frequently seen on the streets and in the shops of Fort Pierce while between tours – driving his vintage car, lunching out with his family, drinking beer, and maybe joining his musician friends on stage in local taverns.

“It’s a relaxed life in Fort Pierce,” Stewart says, one that he would hate to give up. [xvi]

“I Was Probably Rough-Sounding, Too”  

Stewart and his generation reshaped country music. They made it more progressive and modern; they drew from rock music and rebelled against authority. Stewart articulated this in his next Tribune profile, written by Ray Washington and published in July 1977. Washington asked Stewart about the state of country music:

It’s gone wild. Why, hell, country’s come to town. It’s gone out of town. Country music went to bed with rock music and sort of went to bed with any other music that was standing around. Country music had a baby.[xvii]

Country’s promiscuity produced a new form of music; authenticity replaced sophistication:    

When I moved to Nashville four years ago, country music still lived outside the city limits and was still pretty chaste. I did not know anything about the music then, except that it was straightforward and usually carried a twang that sounded a lot better after a few beers.

 But at about that time, the whole style of country music was expanding, and because there was nothing else on the radio in Nashville, I listened to it. After a short while, I did not listen to much else. The music was still a little rough-sounding, but life itself, the country musicians said, was rough-sounding. I knew I was probably rough-sounding, too. [xviii]

That Old Stuff is Gone

After this open-hearted self-reflection, Stewart told Washington about the importance of personal authenticity:  

Man, that rough stuff is gone now. Country music is getting more sophisticated. But country music has always been more about real life than other kinds of music. I write about the lifestyle I’m exposed to, and if my music has some rough edges, it’s because what I’m writing about has some rough edges. [xix]

Then, Stewart weighed in on rock music:

I’m the biggest rock fan there is. But a lot of rock stuff isn’t real. They just make up some words and try to confuse people. The country music you’ve got today it’s like rock from the 50s mixed in with old country. It’s good music. [xx]

In another Tribune interview, Stewart expanded on his rock influences:

My country music is influenced by rock, and my rock music was influenced by country. You might call it rockabilly, a cross between rock and hillbilly … Rock is a driving music, and it comes out in my country when I belt out the songs a bit stronger than the traditional country singer. [xxi]

Stewart’s interest in country music’s roots foreshowed the coming Americana movement. Although some of his music had a pop sheen, nothing could gloss over the the bootheel-hard tenor of Stewart’s voice, an instrument capable of a rough howl or tender shudder.

Look South  

The Tribune was on a Gary Stewart roll like a ’49 Chevy barreling down 11 Mile Road. Columnist Georganna Simmons interviewed the neo-honky-tonk singer for her regular feature, “Looking  South.” Stewart explained why he kept coming back to Fort Pierce:

It’s the South and I’ll never leave. Just nice and slow here. Everybody’s family … I love to be home. It’s the people. I love seeing my friends again. On the road I miss my family, laying around the house, getting high with my friends. I always love to come home.[xxii]

Simmons wrote that Stewart’s lyrics “recreate the southern country life: ennui born of heavy food and heavy heat, booze, and broads, fighting and loving and losing.”[xxiii]

But it’s a quote by Stewart buried in the article’s center that speaks to another type of ennui, the euthanizing affect the music industry has on creativity:

At first, the songs came without much effort. But after a while, we lost what we had. I wasn’t living what I was writing. I felt like I was doing the songs assembly line [style] just to make money. It got to where my heart wasn’t in it anymore. [xxiv]

Descent  

The St. Lucie News Tribune continued to narrate Stewart’s life and career from a hometown perspective. These texts humanized Stewart in a way those of the national press couldn’t. The Tribune articles documented the type of small-town performances by Stewart that were the bread and butter for many touring country artists. Sadly, these writings also enshrine Stewart’s descent into depression and addiction.

The headlines tell the story: moments of joy and misery leading to tragedy:

Epilogue

From the day he won that harmonica contest to the day he took his life, Gary Stewart wrung every note out of every song he sang. And his hometown newspaper captured the highs and lows. The News Tribune articles abounded with uncommon insights and contributed to Stewart’s image as a hometown honky-tonk hero.  

Such local coverage of influential musicians is often overlooked in histories of music journalism, which tend to focus on mass circulation publications. In the case of small-town artists, this leaves a critical gap in our understanding. Often, no one understands a musician better than the journalists at their hometown paper.

Such as columnist Ray Washington, who penned “Cracker Florida” for the Tribune. He ran a quote by Stewart in 1979 that uncannily portended the singer’s future: 

Half the time, I’m away from Florida doing shows or recording. When I get home, people get the wrong idea, man. I’m still spinning. I don’t get no big head or nothing, I just need a little time for myself. This is my own little world here. You read about Mel Street shooting himself in the head.[xxv] Man, that’s why Florida is so great. That that hit, Mel Street doing that. I don’t want that to happen to me. It’s a lot of pressure if you don’t get away.[xxvi]

But you can’t get away from yourself, perhaps the underpinning theme of Stewart’s amazing body of work.     

Notes

[i] Ray Washington, “Cracker Florida,” St. Lucie News Tribune, March 4, 1979: 5.

[ii] Uncredited, “Grand Ole Opry Scheduled by FP Police Lodge,” St. Lucie News Tribune, Oct. 21, 1971: 9.

[iii] Photo caption, St. Lucie News Tribune, Feb. 17, 1974: 58.

[iv] Julie Sneed, “Local Boy Makes Good (Country Music, That Is),” St. Lucie News Tribune, Oct. 27, 1974: 7.

[v] Richard A. Peterson, Creating Country Music: Fabricating Authenticity (University of Chicago Press, 1997): 3-4.

[vi] Peterson: 225.  

[vii] Julie Sneed, “‘Our’ Country Music Star Home to Sign Autographs,” St. Lucie News Tribune, March 5, 1975: 17.

[viii] Photo caption, St. Lucie News Tribune, June 30, 1975: 9.

[ix] John Morthland, “Gary Stewart: Steppin’ Out,” Rock’s Back Pages webpage retrieved July 22, 2024: https://www.rocksbackpages.com/Library/Article/gary-stewart-isteppin-outi. RBP features a number of great articles about Stewart.

[x] Julie Bartlett, St. Lucie News Tribune, Feb. 1, 1976: 42.

[xi] Bartlett, 1976.

[xii] Ibid.

[xiii] Ibid.

[xiv] Dave Marsh, “Gary Stewart: Your Place or Mine,” Ashbury Park Press, May 8, 1977: 60.

[xv] Julie Bartlett, “Stewart Relaxes at Home After Cutting Hot Album,” St. Lucie News Tribune, April 17, 1977: 9.

[xvi] Bartlett, 1977.

[xvii] Ray Washington, “Gary Stewart: Country Now is Good Music,” St. Lucie News Tribune, July 3, 1977: 42.

[xviii] Washington, 1977.

[xix] Ibid.

[xx] Ibid.

[xxi] Georganna Simmons, “Gary Stewart: The King of Honky-Tonk Likes Southern Life,” St. Lusic News Tribune, Aug. 2, 1977.

[xxii] Simmons, 1977.

[xxiii] Ibid.

[xxiv] Ibid.

[xxv] After five years of hits, country singer Mel Street shot himself to death on his 45^th birthday.

[xxvi] Ray Washington, “Cracker Florida,” St. Lucie News Tribune, March 4, 1979: 5.