‘Here’s to love’: An Ozark County ‘road dawg’ recalls 20+ years of adventures with Roy Clark


Ozark County native Sid Pierce, left, now living in Reeds Spring, was part of the crew that accompanied country music star Roy Clark for more than 20 years as he performed around the world. Clark, 85, died Thursday at his home in Tulsa, Oklahoma. This photo was taken around 2005 in Biloxi, Mississippi.

Sid Pierce, kneeling in front, with Roy Clark, standing, fourth from left, and other band and crew members at Hoover Dam.

Roy Clark, fourth from right, and his entire band and crew rode Harley-Davidsons during some of the years they worked together. Sid Pierce, far left, said Clark “rode his bike like he played guitar: full speed ahead.”

Editor’s note: Sid Pierce, a 1974 graduate of Gainesville High School, is the son of Lessie Pierce of Gainesville and the late Herman Pierce, former Ozark County Sheriff. He is a former teacher in Gainesville and Reeds Spring, where he now lives, and after spending more than 20 years mixing sound for Roy Clark, continues to work in the music business, now most often mixing sound for the Billy Yates Hit Songwriters in the Round show and the Raiding the Country Vault show at the Americana Theatre in Branson. 

 

A bright light went out last week with the passing of Roy Clark. He has had so many awards and achievements bestowed upon him it is daunting to think how one man in one lifetime could accomplish so much. He was generous with his time, talents and money in meaningful ways that will continue to flourish for generations. With his passing, I’m just starting to realize how Roy Clark touched everyone he encountered in song, word or deed.

For twenty-plus years I mixed sound at all of Roy’s concerts. I was also his advance man. Being his contact person meant I was the first person promoters would contact to work through all the details of his live appearances. My introduction was simple: “I’m Sid Pierce with Roy Clark.” That summed up my life. Roy would introduce me to his friends and family as a mountain man from the deep woods of the Ozarks. He joked that I’d rather be in the woods on a river living in a teepee, but he needed me, so I left the mountains to become a minstrel with him.

My life with Roy started in 1985 after I received my discharge from the Navy and found a job in Springfield working for Dynamight Sound and Lighting. I met Roy at a show in Colorado Springs, Colorado. His soundman had taken a job with the Highwaymen Tour (Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson) – and just like that, I was Roy Clark’s new soundman. It was a relationship that continued and brought so many wonderful people into my life… including my wife and daughter.

 

‘Hello, I’m ... with Roy Clark’

My workday started with phone conversations that began with, “Hello, I’m Sid Pierce with Roy Clark.” Then I’d go over the details of bringing Roy and his band to their concert hall, fairgrounds, convention, symphony pops, casino, cruise ship or, on occasion, the White House. I’d answer their questions and work through any concerns. 

One source of pride for us was always hearing, “You guys are the easiest act to work with ever!” When asked what we needed to do our show, I always told them, “Electricity and money!” We’d ride into town, entertain people, pick up our loot and ride into another town. I loved it. I told Roy once it was the closest thing to riding with Jesse James. He got a kick out of that. He said, “Sidney, you are a Missouri boy and a rebel!…Let’s ride!”

Standing backstage at the Grand Ole Opry next to Alan Jackson, I heard Roy offer him this advice: “Be nice to everyone on your ride to the top. You’ll meet the same folks on your way down.” He then gazed out at the audience, which was going crazy with anticipation for Alan’s performance. Roy continued, “Their parents did the same thing for me…” 

I came back with, “You mean their grandparents?” 

Alan laughed, and Roy sneered jokingly, “Sidney…”

One night after a fair in Northern California, I took a stack of pictures to Roy to autograph. He sat at his table, Sharpie in hand, sizing me up like a boxer before a bout. I said, “Sorry Mr. C.” 

His famous smile returned, and he sincerely stated, “I grew up with these folks. I’d hate it if they quit asking.” 

The travel could be difficult with many, many two-high-energy shows back to back and then people wanting him to visit and take pictures. We really had to guard his privacy to keep the show going 300 days a year. Our job was to protect him from too much adoration at times.

I realized, early on, that being a celebrity wasn’t anything I aspired to. Seeing Roy not being able to do common things without people wanting something was educational. He told me once, “Sidney, I just need to go to the bathroom” – as dozens of people wanted his attention. 

He would ask me, “What does that store sell?” Everyday life was different being in his presence. We could be in New York City, and someone would say to him, “I’m a pickin’,” and he would be obligated to answer, “And I’m a grinnin’.”

 

Roy Clark’s soft heart

Another memory also tells about the nature of Roy Clark: We were in Michigan and were being treated to a nice, home-cooked meal between shows. Someone told of a vintage guitar that had recently been stolen. Roy become somber, and everyone knew he was going to “get heavy,” as he liked to say. “I wonder what is happening in someone’s life that would make them want to take a guitar that could only bring people happiness and comfort…” 

Leave it to Roy to have a soft heart for a thief.

Occasionally Roy would drive the bus and talk to the truckers on the CB radio. For years he had flown himself to gigs in his private plane. He had owned several over the years, including a nice, fast jet. We could be home in an hour and a half from anywhere in the country. Jet-setting agreed with me. Picture a bunch of country boys playing spades being jetted around the country.

One time in the jet we had engine problems, and the pilots let us know we might be “buying the farm.” Roy said, “Boys, I’ve done more than I ever dreamed possible. It’s been good to call you my friends.” He looked at me, and I said, “I don’t want to be known as entourage!”

I have ridden motorcycles since my teenage years. Roy told me how he met Barbra, his wife of 61 years, at a Harley-Davidson shop and how he only had a Harley for transportation. He smiled as he told how he’d strap his guitar on his motorcycle and put her on the back while playing the clubs in Maryland and Washington, D.C. So when I’d rent a Harley instead of a car in places like Hawaii he was thrilled to death. 

Eventually our entire band and crew rode Harleys. We’d send two empty buses with the equipment ahead while we rode across the country to our shows. Once when we rode from Laughlin to Reno, Nevada, Roy announced that he’d be riding in the lead position and we were only stopping for fuel. We later found out he was serious. He rode his bike like he played guitar: full speed ahead. When we got into the higher elevation, it started getting cold. Everyone was putting on more clothing, and Roy realized his was on the bus – and the buses had passed us. He rode into the dark until he just froze out. 

Unwilling to stop, we put him in a truck pulling a trailer and sent him on to the venue. It started snowing on us, and we arrived to the dismay of the hotel staff. While checking in at the front desk, we were told, “Mr. Clark has arranged dinner for you in the steak house  – on him.” He’d also left us a note: “Glad you guys made it safe. Thanks for taking great care of me.” We got a reputation in Reno and Lake Tahoe for riding motorcycles, not only in the winter but also in the snow.

 

‘We’ll be OK, Sid’

In 1994, my dad died. Roy lost his mom a few weeks after that. After some time we returned to work, but the world wasn’t the same anymore for either of us. We were working mostly in Branson, which was a mixed bag. It was nice to be in one place, yet for a couple of “road dawgs,” we both missed the rhythm of the road. Constantly changing scenery and people was the closest thing to freedom I knew.

My depression got the best of me one day. The opening act was blasting away, and I found a dark corner backstage. Hidden from view, I was overtaken with emotion. I was a basket case – and it came out of nowhere, like grief does. Then, while I was sobbing, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Roy. He gave me a huge hug and said, “We’ll be OK, Sid.”

I believed him, and eventually he was right. I still have the cap Roy signed for Dad. It reads, “Herman, you are my Hero!” 

They always enjoyed each other’s company. Seeing them together made me proud.

My most memorable Thanksgiving was 30 years ago when Roy, his band and a video crew were touring the Soviet Union making a two-hour documentary. While there, we were invited by American CIA personnel in Moscow to share a Thanksgiving meal with them. The station chief, William Penny, had graduated from Branson High School. Later, the US State Department told Roy, “You have no idea how much you have helped to bring our two countries together.” 

Roy always said, “People are just people. Only governments are different. The problems of this world can be solved by the people of this world – and the answer is love.”

 

‘Do somethin’ nice for somebody’

Roy always ended his shows with what we called the “love rap.” It was recited from memory but totally sincere; he said it from the heart, and he never omitted a single word: 

“Before we go any farther, I want to lay somethin’ on you: it’s not heavy, and it’s not to imply that you don’t already do it. It’s just a reminder… to all of us.

“The next chance you get, do somethin’ nice for somebody: say ‘good day,’ hold a door open, and don’t wait around for a thank you. You don’t need it. And because of you, that person will go out and do something nice for somebody, and then that person will do something nice for someone else, and this whole world can wind up doing nice things for each other and we can be the ones that start it.

“It takes all of us working together to get things done. No one does it alone. Only One did, and I’m not that strong. Let’s start it. Here’s to love… it is still the best!”

Without a doubt a great light went out when Roy died last week, but I choose to focus upon the countless lights that were lit from his light. When I see Saint Peter, I’m going to say “I’m Sid Pierce. I’m with Roy Clark…”

•••

Postscript: Next year, Lord willing, I start my 40th year mixing professional concert audio. When my dad tried to discourage me by saying “Only one in one hundred thousand make it in the music business,” I thought to myself, “I like those odds. I thought it would be closer to one in a million.”

Ozark County Times

504 Third Steet
PO Box 188
Gainesville, MO 65655

Phone: (417) 679-4641
Fax: (417) 679-3423