Singing and playing the guitar

Hi. My name is Don. I have been singing and playing the guitar for about 50 years, and many years ago I wrote a few hundred songs.

I was born in England, but when I was a baby my folks took me to Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) in Africa. So that is the world I grew up in. Like Tarzan! We had a rope in a tree in the garden that we called the Tarzan rope. But as a kid I had lots of American comics, and in my mind I wished I had been in America. I used to make my own toy guns out of wood, because we were poor, and crawl around the garden pretending I was a cowboy in America.

I grew up in a very religious family, singing lots of church choruses. Then one day at a friend’s house I heard Elvis Presley singing “Jailhouse rock.” That changed a lot of things. I had never even heard guitar playing before, and Elvis’ singing was so different from anyone I had ever heard. From then on I started listening to the radio, hearing all the latest songs. My dad moved from Salisbury to Bulawayo when I was twelve, and that took a lot of adjusting to a new city and new schools, but the music remained the same. Somehow in the moving, all my comics were lost, but music became my new love.

I saw an Elvis Presley guitar in toy shop, and wanted it, but my dad bought a normal guitar instead. It didn’t have the same excitement, and when I banged on it, it was just a noise. I got discouraged and quit. So my dad started learning to play. One day I saw a friend of my brother playing the guitar, and got inspired to try again. My dad showed me chords, and how to play following the bass notes on the music, and I was away. We had a room in our house where my dad had church services, and I started playing there.

One day it was arranged for me to sing a solo. I learned the song off by heart, four verses and a chorus. When I got up to sing, I first announced the song: “Just a closer walk with Thee” and my mind went blank. I couldn’t remember the first verse! So I started with the chorus, racking my brain to find the verses. After singing the chorus a few times, I remembered the first verse. Later I remembered the last verse, and I ended the song feeling so embarrassed. After the service one guy said he enjoyed the song, and I confessed that I had forgotten the words. He said he didn’t know that. Then it dawned on me, that other people don’t know the words anyway, so it doesn’t make any difference. Many years later, when I started singing my own songs, I would sometimes forget the words, but I knew the people listening didn’t know the words to my songs anyway, so it was okay!

Some years later, I sang and played guitar with another guy in a church service, and I made a mistake. He was grinning about it, and everyone thought he had made the mistake! So you have to learn to cover up mistakes.

When Jim Reeves died, I had the crazy notion of trying to be the next Jim Reeves. I guess a lot of guys had the same idea. I loved his singing and music. My brother heard of a hotel that was having a talent contest, and suggested I give it a try. He said everyone who entered would get a crate of cokes. So I entered. I didn’t win, but I got paid in cokes. It was my first earnings.

I got chosen to play in the first rugby team of our school, and we had to take the overnight train to Salisbury. While in Salisbury, I remember being at my uncle’s house, and playing the guitar and singing. A few months later, my uncle, Geoff Cartwright, arranged for me to sing at the Salisbury agricultural show. That was an incredible experience. My brother paid a deposit on an amplifier for my guitar and I was ready.

A radio shop next door to the stage arranged a microphone system for me, and I stood on an empty stage with about a hundred empty seats in front of me. I was scared and shy, so I had my dark glasses on. The plan was for me to be singing for a half an hour, and then there would be a mannequin parade after me. Apparently they announced over the loudspeaker system that I would be singing, which I didn’t know about.

As I stood there, I was thinking that I would be happy if one or two people stopped and listened to me for about half a song, and then walked on. To my amazement, people came and filled up all the seats and there were hundreds more standing at the back. This amazed me. People were actually listening to me. I sang two or three times that day, and there next morning I had no voice. Someone suggested I gargle with salt water, and my voice came back.

Later that week, it was arranged for me to sing in the interval of the rock band contest, which was for the last 4 nights of the show. There I was sharing the mike with the guy who did the hit parade every week on the radio. What a thrill. I think his name was Kennedy. They had a big revolving stage, and while the one band was playing, the next band would set up on the other side. Some of those bands were very good. The Shadows, Cliff Richard’s band, were the rage at the time, and I think a lot of the bands patterned themselves after them.

Going back to school after that experience, felt like a letdown. After leaving high school I started singing on TV in Bulawayo. That was a wonderful experience. Everyone was so good to me. Unfortunately my parents weren’t happy with me. They wanted me to have a good normal job. My mother kept telling me I was supposed to be uplifting Jesus. I did sing a number of gospel songs on the TV, but they didn’t have a TV, and never watched me.

One night I was invited to sing at a church in Bulawayo, and they had an evangelist from South Africa preaching. I sang a song called: “I called Him.” Many years later I found out it was a Johnny Cash song, although at the time I had never heard of Johnny Cash. The preacher commented on the words of the song: “My mother sometimes tells me I should take it slow, but the pace is not what matters, it’s the direction that you go.”

The next night I was singing on the TV, and in the middle of the show, the evangelist from the church the night before came on. He told how he got converted in Johannesburg. Then straight after him, I had to end the show with a song: “Honeycomb, won’t you be my baby?” I felt terrible. I wish I had known he was coming on, then I would have sung a gospel song. Everything was done ‘live’ in those days, but I timed the songs before the show and gave in the title.

Now this evangelist was a fire and brimstone preacher. When he preached, I could feel the flames under my seat. So I dreaded having to face him after the show. I knew he had to be at the church that night, so I hung around as long as I could in the studio, until they started switching the lights off. As I went through the big sound proof door, there he was waiting for me. I thought he was going to chew me up and spit me out. To my surprise, he didn’t do that. He spoke to me gently in love. “Why don’t you sing for Jesus?” I had sung for Jesus for many years, but I never got paid for it. I had to make a living, and the TV was paying me. Something happened to me that night however, and a couple of weeks later I quit singing on TV. I lost my day job because of sanctions, so I ended up with no job.

The following year, doing forced military training in the Rhodesian Air Force, I heard a lot of guys using Christ’s name in vain. That upset me tremendously, so I quit singing pop songs and switched purely to gospel songs. I said to myself, “If they are going to use Jesus’ name like that, then I am not going to sing their songs anymore.” It was a rash decision, but that experience affected me so badly.

Many years have passed since then, and I have been through a lot of wonderful experiences, and some supernatural experiences too. Many people have been very good to me. Thank you. I have also been through some very bad experiences that have caused me a lot of harm and heartache. Some criticism has severely affected me. I think that in every country and society, race and religion, there are nice people and horrible people. In the final analysis, this is what I believe: I still believe in Jesus, and I still believe in love.

Over the years I have written over 200 songs. Some love songs, some happy-go-lucky songs, and some spiritual songs. There is something about songs that seem to work their way inside a person, and stay there forever. One day I may be able to put my own personal favourite songs on the net.

Pictures of Bulawayo

I mentioned how I sang on TV in Bulawayo, so here is a link for you to get an idea of the city. I lived there from the age of 12 to 24.

Pictures of Harare

I lived in Salisbury (now called Harare) from babyhood until the age of 12.

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