EDITORIAL ROUTING 3-2-93 To: ENTERTAINMENT Ah-one, anna two Barbara Mandrell remembers Welk By Frank Lovece ‘The notion of Barbara Mandrell hosting @ tribute to Lawrence Welk seems a bit like Mick Jagger hosting a tribute to Barry Manilow. But, says ‘country-music star Mandrell,‘ ain't so. “always say my three claims to fame,” she jokes, “are that I sang with Lawrence Welk, danced with James Brown, and Roy Rogers taught me to trap shoot.” Until she gets to host tributes to James Brown or Roy Rogers, Man Grell will make do with “From the Heart: A Tribute to Lawrence Welk and the American Dream” (PBS, scheduled to premiere nationally Mareh 13; check local listings). Taped at Nashville's Grand Ole Opry, the 8: ‘minute special about the TV band: leader — whose weekly musie show ran an astonishing 27 years — com: bines vintage elips and new perfor ‘ances by such Welk alumni as jazz clarinetist Pete Fountain, pianist Floyd Cramer, famed gospel singers ‘The Jordanaires, and, of course, the Lennon Sisters. “He was a very great man,” Ma 4rell remembers. “He helped so very many people, even people who weren't his regular musical family ‘And I recall the one time he invited ‘me to do his television show, and he truly just wrapped me around his little finger, he was so charming. ‘Then later I'made contact with him about the museum,” she says, refer- ring to the commercial enterprise Barbara Mandrell Country, in Nashville, “In there are things from people I think alot of, and think fans ‘would be interested in. And Mr. Welk gave me one of his batons!” Those batons, coupled with his famous phrase “Ah-one, anna two,” signaled the start each week of un- abashedly sehmaltzy big-band tunes, which accordionist-bandleader Welk called “champagne music.” His TV show first aired locally in Los Ange- les for two years before ABC picked it up nationally in mid-1955, making it a Saturday-night staple for 16 years, Canceled not because of poor ratings but because the network felt its audience was “too old,” the show prospered in syndication from 1971- ‘82 — airing on more stations than it hhad on ABC. Welk co-wrote three au tobiographies before he died in 1982 at age 89 ‘Welk had been only a middling sue- ‘cess until TV, touring as a bandleader for some 25’ years in the Midwest; ‘T recall the one time he invited me to do his television show, and he truly just wrapped me around his little finger, he was so charming.’ indeed, despite his pronounced Mit- teleuropean accent, he was born on a farm outside Strasburg, N.D. (to im- migrant parents who spoke little Eng- lish). It was a gig at a Los Angeles ballroom that caught the attention of network executives in those early TV days when loads of bandleaders helped provide inexpensive program “His music was his own,” Mandrell muses, trying to categorize it. "I think anytime you hear a recording of him and his orchestra, you can spot it im: mediately, he's easily identified. He ‘was a stylist. I think calling it ‘big band’ works, bt it's sort of like saying ‘country music’ or ‘rock musie’ — look at all the different styles and areas Within that label. It simply was his own creation, his own style.” ‘Mandrell, 44, has a distinctive style herself. A giant of country music, she began performing professionally as a child, playing the saxophone, accor dion and pedal steel guitar. Her first break came when she was just 11 years old, when guests at a music trade show were enchanted by the litle girl demonstrating various mu- sieal instruments. That led to her join- ing country star Joe Maphis’ show at the Showboat Hotel in Las Vegas. ‘TV exposure followed, as did a family-based act with dad Irby, mom Mary and three other musicians, One was a drummer named Ken Dudney; he was 22, Barbara was 14, they fell in love and were married four years Tater, two weeks before Barbara fin ished high school. Still together after nearly 26 years, they have two sons, ‘Matthew and Nathaniel, and a daugh: ter, Jaime. Mandrell began recording in 1969, with a string of country and gospel hits including “Sleeping Single in a Double Bed” and “I Was Country (When Country Wasn’t Coo.” Along with all her other accomplishments and awards, she and her sisters Irlene and Louise starred in an NBC variety show from 1980-82. But everything almost tumbled to nothing on Sept. 11, 1984, when Man. drell was nearly killed when another ‘driver plowed into her ear, an inci dent she recounts in her 1990 auto- biography, “Get to the Heart: My Story." A last-minute premonition made her snap on her seat belt, which she eredits with saving her life She has since lobbied for seat belt laws — creating an unexpected bit of controversy in her home state. know for a fact that in the state of Tennessee they don't like me very ‘much about that, because I spoke to the legislature about getting the seat belt law passed,” she says, “I know Tm not any wiser than any other cit- izen about who should be elected, but Thad all the statisties with me on (car-accident) injuries, and what it costs us all in medical care and in- surance, and I quoted all that, so that ‘was not a matter of opinion but fact.” For a 5-foot-2-inch, 100-pound woman, Mandrell’s elearly a good person to have in your corner. Even if you're Lawrence Welk int NEWSPAPER ENTERPRISE ASSN STAR VIEW FRANK LOVECE pepe Ag suse peered ed wt ge Soest ssn w prea wonnsoney enn ad "4 ma 918b-LZZ (008) 99TOL AN ‘H1OA MON “OaY HIed 00Z NOLLVIDOSSV SSTHdUaLNG YadvdSMIN |