Interview with Bob Chapman — 2 August 2007

Bob Chapman is a retired locksmith.  He ran a business called "Bob Chapman the Safe Man" at 607 E. Davenport, Mer Rouge, Louisiana, 71261, (318) 647-5400.  Interviewed at the Old Country Church, 3596 Mount Eden Rd, Mount Eden, KY  (502) 738-0022. 

[The Chapmans, Bob and Gloria, had come to Mt. Eden KY to preach and play music and stay overnight at the Old Country Church.   Betsy Adler and I attended along with a small group -- about 15 to 20 -- of believers who were there on this Thursday night to hear the music and testimony.   I had previously contacted Bob Chapman after learning about him from Bernard Lee.  Bernard said Bob was the man "who tore down the barn at Bean Blossom."  I found his number after an internet search:  318-614-0939 (cell phone).   After speaking to him in mid-June, I arranged to meet him for an interview when he came to Kentucky.   We listened to Bob preaching, and then "the Chapman Family Band" (he and his wife, accompanied by a pretty young female banjo player and some musicians who were members of the Old Country Church) played and sang some bluegrass gospel numbers.  I joined in on stage with my banjo for a few numbers as well.   After the "testifying" was over and most of the attendees left, we adjourned to the church basement, where the Chapmans ate and I recorded a brief interview on tape.   They gave me a cassette tape of the Chapman Family Band, copyright 1998, called "I Was A Sinner,"  with ten songs, including "Tribute to Bill Monroe."  — BC worked with Bill in 1986 and 1987]

BC: I grew up in Mingo County, West Virginia, a little town right on the Kentucky line, there, Tug River, a little town named Kermit.  I grew up as a young boy there, and the first time I listened to Mr. Bill Monroe on the radio.  We had an old radio.  My daddy'd get a battery charged, and we could listen to it on a Saturday night.   And my daddy thought Bill Monroe was God.  If we-- if a kid spoke while Bill Monroe was playing, my daddy'd slap him right out of his socks, just about.  But, uh, I grew up under that. 

And then, about--   It's been so long, we kinda forget things, but--  it was about 1940, Bill Monroe come to Kermit, West Virginia with a tent show, you know, back in those days.  And, uh, I said, "Daddy, I got to see that man, that plays that music."  I fell in love with that music.  And I practiced it, I'd practice it.   And my mother always said--  Of a night, we'd be out gone somewhere, be comin' home late, walkin' down the road, maybe a mile, we's walkin' home from wherever we was -- we didn't worry about it -- it's not like things are today.   But walkin' out there, and she said, "I never worry about Bo--"    -- she called me Robert -- Said, "I never worry about Robert, because I can always tell when he's coming home," said, "he's singing 'Blue Moon of Kentucky' or some bluegrass song."  You know. . .   And she said, "I always don't worry about him, 'cause we know when he's comin'." But we went to that show, there, and -- it's a lot of years -- but we went to that, and I knew then that that's what I wanted to do."

My birthday's 2/3/33.  [TA: So you were just 7 years old in 1940!] 

BC: Yeah, just a young kid.  I know.  And that's why I wanted to do that song for you tonight, I can do "I Hear A Sweet Voice Callin'" so close to Bill Monroe--  Like I told him one day, "Bill, I'll make you think your mouth's a-moving!"

[TA: But your family didn't really know him then . . . ?] 

BC: No, no!  But Bill was one kind of guy, uh, if he really though you was interested, he'd do a lot of things to help you.  And as close as I got to Bill Monroe that night was to shake his hand.  I was just a little boy.  But I never forgot it.  And it was just like a fire burnin' in me, all my life.  All this time in the military and everything, the fire never went out.  But then, once you get into bluegrass, you can't never leave it.  You can try if you--  Just like you, playin', you can't never just get away from it.  It don't matter where you go, you can get off in some other kind of music, but it draws you back.  I just keeps drawing. 

TA: What brought you to Bean Blossom for the first time?  And when was that?

BC:  Well, I had a preacher friend of mine call me, about the Bean Blossom deal.  But in the meantime, before I got to do what the preacher wanted, I was tied up in a battle over a company that I owned.  Bill and I had done talked at different places, and you know what I'm talking about, how it goes-- When you travel  all the time, you take in these shows, and uh--   Bill told me, said "Why don't you come up," you know, "to see me?"  I said, "Okay."  So, in this legal battle, the district attorney and the judge got in an argument, and the district attorney grabbed all the records and throwed 'em down the hallway; the judge says "Court's closed, see you sometime next year."  I leaned over to Mama and I said, "Let's go to Nashville."  And she said "Okay."  So I walked out on the courthouse steps and wrote that song, on that same courthouse steps I wrote that song, of-- uh, uh-- "Glorify The Father."   That's where we wrote it, standing on the steps in the middle of that trial.  

[interruption at this point by the woman who had opened the evening's proceedings at the Old Country Church; she was trying to prepare some supper for the Chapman Family Band and others, but worrying about the noise she was making as we conducted the interview.  We assured her that it was not a problem and both her preparations and the interview then proceeded.]

TA: So he told you to come on up?

BC:  Yeah, he said "Come and see me when you get a chance."  So we'd done a lot of shows where he was at, and all these things, you know, we'd done a lot of stuff.  And then, uh, he was in Baton Rouge, and my partner, or a guy that worked for me, we wanted to see him, you know.  And we got to talking, I said, "Bill what do you do with things while you're traveling here?" you know, and he said "why I do this, and do that," and I said "Let me put you a safe in your bus."  He said, "Bob, would you do that for me?"  I says, "Sure will."  So I went back home and got a brand new safe out of inventory, and installed it in Bill's bus for him.  Right there beside of his bed, where he could lock up personal things he didn't want pilfered.  He was that kind of a friend.  Okay?  He said, "What do I owe you, Bob?"  I said, "Nothin'."  

And then, he wanted me to help work on the Bluegrass Hall of Fame.  I helped build the Hall of Fame, when we built that in Nashville; uh, they moved it up to Indiana now.  Originally it was built in Nashville; I helped build it.  I took two weeks off and went up there and helped do the whole thing.  I've got a mandolin in the Hall of Fame.  I got an 18-and-93 Gibson in the Hall of Fame. 

TA: So you would do things and help him out? 

BC: Why, that's the way it's done, you know, I mean--  You can't have a friend and be one-sided; both people have to contribute to it.  But Bill was one of them kind of people, uh--  If he liked you, he liked you.  If he didn't like you, it didn't take you long to figure it out.   Okay.  And we just got along, I mean, we was friends, you know what I'm talking about.    And for years and years, we just [unintelligible].  If I knew Bill was gonna be somewhere, I'd call him up and talk with him about it.  And do this or that with him, whatever.  But he was just that kind of a man.  If he told you something, he's gonna do it, you'd take it to the bank.  Because his word was that good.  I never worried, he'd say, "Bob, I wanta do that," I said, "Okay," I just didn't worry about it.  But, uh, he just become a good friend.

So when that court done that, I said, "Mama, let's go to Nashville," she said, "Okay."  So I walked out of there, and took a phone down there and called, and he said "Come on."  So -- went to Nashville, and we started and got the Hall of Fame done, and some other things, and done some other stuff.  And then--  James wanted me to do some stuff I wouldn't do.  But that's all right, it was--  It was on a business deal.  Wasn't nothing dishonest about it.  I just, I didn't want to be involved in that kind of a business.   So that's how I quit.  That's when I quit.  I told him, "Bill, I'm not gonna do it, I quit."  And Bill's wife told him, she said, "Bill, I told you Bob Chapman wasn't gonna do that."   But we's still friends.  I do--  I would have done just almost anything for Bill Monroe

Because he was that kind--  And I'd do that for any friend I got.  Because that's what it's supposed to be. You know.  But he was, he was all right. 

[TA: Now, how did he come to tear down the barn and all that, and ask you to help with that?]

BC:  Well, we set down to talk about it.  We got together, and said "I'll talk about it."  And a preacher called me.  Methodist preacher.  Can't remember his first name, I think his last name was Johnson.  Been a long time.  But it's been a long time.  He said, "Bob, I know you know Bill."  "Yeah."  He said, "what about comin' up here and meet with us in Bill's office."  And we got to talkin' and different things.  One thing led to another, and we got talkin' about building a new hall up there.  And I got information on the stuff, and then we got together, Bill and I and James, and got my wife and got together.  And had a meeting, and decided to tear the old place down.  And Bill says, "You'd do that?"  "Yeah, I'll take it down."   So I took my motor home up there, to Bean Blossom, and hooked it up.  Put a phone in it, and Bill gave me a van to drive.  I drove Bill's van, he paid everything.   And we took that building apart.  And done all that.  And then that turn-in road, where you turn in there now?   I'm the guy that laid that out.  But I went and got the--  I went and got the architects to draw the plans for the operation, and I got all that set up.   For the Hall of Fame. 

TA: But when he tore it down, that was a few years before he moved the Hall of Fame up there.  

BC: Oh yeah, but we's working on a couple different things.  We's working down in Nashville on it, and then they finally got it all together and done that.

TA: But why did he want to tear down the barn--?

BC:  Well, it was-- It was so di--  I understand what you're saying.  I tried to get him to do this.  I tried to get him, first, to let me take I-beams and build a post-beam, and put stringers out through it, and bring the roof back up where it was sagging, and support it, and make it as a historical building.  Okay?  But everybody involved didn't want to do that!  You see?  You can have a great idea, but sometimes everybody don't want to go along with you.  So-- So, that's why it was tore down.  So the wife and I done it.

TA:  I still don't understand; why they tore it down, 'cause that was the only place they had, indoors, up there to have shows?

BC:  Yeah, but it was so bad shape.  The building was so bad, if you'd have left it another year, or eighteen months, probably the roof might have fell in.  That's what-- It was awful bad.  So we decided, you know, that if we wasn't gonna put these beams down there and support it, and straighten it all up, you know, get it, uh, uh--  Because everybody that had been there despite, they wanted it left just like it was.  Well, if it was gonna fall down pretty soon, it was gonna hurt somebody.

TA:  Was that Bill's idea?

BC:  Well Bill went along with it.  I don't remember exactly who mentioned it.  But, uh--  It was just my suggestion to put the beams down, right down through the middle, and support it.  Yeah.  But it wasn't agreed to do that, so they said, "Let's tear it down."  And I said, "Okay."  So I tore it down and took out all the good stuff, all the good lumber.  And I called Bill up.  Bill sent me a couple men and a truck.  He said "What you got, Bob?"  I said, "I got a good truckload of lumber, good lumber, fine lumber," and they come up right in the middle of a big snowstorm.  And we loaded a truck load of lumber right in the middle of a big snowstorm.  And the heater quit working in the truck on 'em, two guys that worked for Bill.  And my wife, where she was at, she went and got 'em some quilts and blankets, and everything to keep warm on the way back.  And Bill called.  I said, "Bill, I'd really like to send 'em back in the morning," he said, "Bob, we gotta have 'em, one of 'em in the morning when daylight comes."  Said, "we gotta have 'em."  So, okay.  So in the night, in the middle of the night I sent 'em back to Nashville in a big truck that didn't have a heater.  But they done it fine, they was good troopers.  And everything that we done to help 'em, they sent it back to us.  But Bill was one of a kind.

TA:  What was the role of that preacher, the Methodist preacher you mentioned?

BC:  He was doing some paperwork for Bill.  

TA:  So how did he get involved in the barn deal?

BC:  He didn’t get involved in the barn.  He wasn't there when the barn was done.  But he wanted me to come up there for some other stuff.  And I went up and met with them, and we all met, but then, he was--  They was talkin' to him about doing some special paperwork on some other stuff, and Bill didn't do it.  Whatever Bill's reason was, I don't know.  I didn't remember to ask him, I never did ask him.

TA:  It always seemed funny to me that he would tear down that barn and not have another place built there for--  It was almost ten years--

BC:  Well, he wanted to put it right then, and for whatever reason, it didn't get done right then.  See, I went back to Louisiana, and got a price on the building, because I've got a metal building corporation 30 miles from my house, to put a brand-new one.  And I had it set up for 'em to deliver it,  they was gonna deliver the building, it was gonna be 100' by 150' I believe it was.  And I went to the state, and I got all the codes, and all the frost lines, and freezing--  You know what I'm talking about, for a foundation, and I had all that.  And I got all that done, and then I got that turn-in, and got a ramp, you gotta have [unintelligible]--  All these different things, and, uh---  For some reason, it got delayed.  And I really don't know.  You know, if you tell me you want to do this, but you don't want to do it until next year, I don't question it. 

TA: [Why did he call you all the way from Louisiana to do this up in Indiana?]

BC:  It don't make question at all, if you got a friend, you want him to do something for you, you just call him up.  That's the way Bill was.   Bill wasn't a guy that just used anybody.  Bill was a very proud man, and very-- I guess you'd call it meticulous.  He wanted it done Bill's way.  And if you didn't do it his way, he'd tell you real quick.  Okay?  And Bill wanted me to do that.  He said, "Could you do it, Bob?"  He said, "Would you do that for me, boy?"  I said, "Sure."  And, uh--  Bill allowed me to preach all over Indiana and Kentucky, while working for him. 

TA: How'd you tear down the barn?  Did you use a bulldozer?

BC:  We disassembled it.  And when I got it all down, to where it was on the ground, I called Bill, said "Bill, what's you and James doing right now?" I said, "Let's work out a time when we're gonna burn this barn, we're gonna burn the scrap."  So me and Bill and James burned it.  Had everything that we wanted out of it.  I done sent it to Nashville, out to the farm.  Okay, so then we burned everything that was left there.  When I walked away from it, there wasn't --  You could walk right through where the fire was.  But, uh, Bill-- You bring out memories out, you know what I'm talking about, of a lot of things. 

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