George, it became a life-changing experience: a chance to meet his hero, man to man.
Hank, advised that George was an Acuff fan, gave the kid a tip or two that George recalled years later. âWhen he found out that I loved him and was singinâ his songsâyou know, someone put it to him I sounded just like himâhe said, âIâll tell you. I was a pretty good imitator of Roy Acuff, because he was my favorite, but I soon found out they already had a Roy Acuff, so I started singinâ like myself.ââ George, who intended to be at the Blue Jean Club, asked Hank to sing âI Canât Get You Off of My Mind,â a tune heâd recorded about two years earlier. Hank agreed. The point of the KRIC visit, however, was to promote âWedding Bells.â He sang it accompanied by Eddie, Pearl, and George. Anxious to play the songâs guitar intro, George was disappointed when Hank barreled right into the vocal. Any disappointment was mitigated that night when about midway through the show, George remembered, âHe said, âI want to do this song for a young man, George Jones, who wanted to hear itâ . . . and I just couldnât believe it.â Hank achieved his own goal on June 11. Invited to the Opry as a guest, his showstopping performance of âLovesick Bluesâ landed him a place in the Opry family.
George, after the better part of two years with the Stevenses, was ready to perform on his own in 1949, working the same clubs heâd played with Eddie and Pearl. He picked up his own lead guitar man: Luther Nallie, now fifteen. âHe was really a very nice person,â Nallie said. âHe always wanted to be a singer. He was what he was; he never did change what he was. Iâll say to this day he was the best country singer I ever heard. Of course he . . . loved to sing Hank Williams songs. He liked Acuff and he liked LeftyFrizzell . . . George could imitate some of those guys.â
The two had one minor point of contention. George had never studied guitar beyond the simplest licks and chords. When Nallie, whoâd learned to play the complex, jazzy western-swing guitar favored by bandleaders like Bob Wills and Cliff Bruner, played rhythm behind George, it sometimes led to oil-and-water moments onstage. âIâd make one of them jazz chords, and Georgeâd go, âWhat was that funny sound?â Our playinâ was a little out of phase, but at that time, we needed each other. I needed a job and he needed me. And we made it through. I was young but every now and then Iâd sip on a beer and weâd be ridinâ along somewhere, and weâd go to singinâ and weâd do it sometimes out playinâ. George used to like âMaple on the Hill.â We did it high [in harmony] and he had me singinâ that high part to it.â
While admiring his friendâs singing, Nallie felt sympathy for Georgeâs offstage life, saying, âHeâd stay with one family and then another, but he didnât actually have a home.â George Washington Jones also became an occasional irritant. âI never met his mother,â Nallie added. âBut his dad used to come out and he was an alcoholic. Heâd come around tryinâ to bum money from George to buy some booze. And Georgeâd get upset.
âGeorge never really had a home. Thatâs what was bad.â
Nallie remembered the pair had a regular circuit, starting with Lolaâs and Shortyâs on Pine Street.
âLolaâs and Shortyâs was right there by the shipyard, right by the Neches River. And it was a knock-down, drag-out place. We played another place out there on Highway 90, just a little ways out of Beaumont, called Millerâs Café. It was kind of a drive-in beer joint. We played inside but we had the speakers goinâ outside because people would sit in their cars and drink beer and listen to the music. They had carhops that