Interview with Letta Mae “Sandy” Rund — 27 June 1999

SR = Letta Mae “Sandy” Rund

MR = Mark Rund, Sandy’s son

FR = Francis Rund [1889-1973]

GR = Glenn Rund   [1920-1984]

KR = Kenneth Rund [1922- ??]

TAPE #1 of 2

[preliminary: TA says he'll get a copy of the book to SR eventually, after it's written. SR talks about the pictures she had copies made of, for $200+ dollars.   Ruth Cox had copies of some of the pictures made for Jack Cox. And Jack McDonald got $50 worth.  And Dwight Dillman got copies as well. ]

SR: This is when it was first built, and that picture's down there.  That's Mom and Dad, my mother-in-law and father-in-law.

[TA has some pictures of the barn, showing the northwest corner ticket booth].

SR:  That's where Mom set and sold tickets.  Oh, yeah, and on the phone all week long, the phone'd ring, ring, ring!  She'd take 'em, and she knew all the seating and everything in it.

TA: And so this is. . . ?

SR: Francis, that's the one that owned the barn.  That's his wife, Mae.  What was grandma's other name? 

MR: Isa.

SR:  Isa Mae. 

[TA puts date on the tape recorder, and name of interviewee, Sandy "Letta Mae".  She got her nickname from a high school algebra teacher in her home town of Marshall, Illinois.  He first called her "Rusty" for her red hair; she objected, saying "That sounds like a dog."  And he called her "Red" and she said "No, that sounds tough."   And one day he called her "Sandy,"  and his daughter Mary Francis, who sat next to her, said "You didn't say anything!" and Sandy said "Well, I could handle that." 

SR:  I came over to live with my mother's brother and his wife, which is my aunt and uncle, which was--  It had to be in 1946 or 1947, back then.  And then I met my husband at the little drive-in I worked at. We had been going--   He'd given me a ring, and his parents were real odd.  We was down there one night, and---  I always rode motorcycles.  I sound like a wild woman, don't I!!   I rode motorcycles and run around with a bunch, you know.  Well a bunch of 'em come down, and I was talking to some of the guys.  Well, his parents thought that was improper, since I was engaged to Kenneth, to be talkin' to them men.  And things kind of flourished, and I just give him the ring back.  And then he come after me again!  So it worked out!   [Her parents thought]  Yeah, that was improper that I'd be laughing and cutting up with them guys, and I rode motorcycles.  They were just friends.  But to them -- you know, back then, if you was engaged, it was improper to flirt or laugh or cut up with other men.  Well, I was friendly with everybody.  I've always been a cashier, a hostess, just-- as I said, a motormouth!  

[more to transcribe from tape…]

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TAPE #2 of 2

[not literal, unless in quotes]

In 1918 and 1919, FR bought property in Stones Crossing.

First son, Glenn, was born in 1920.  Kenneth Rund was born in 1922.  KR lived in Johnson Co. all his life. 

SR:   Dad [i.e., FR] got that property around that little cabin, and then all that other property, which was for sale.

In the 1920s and early 1930s, the trip to Indianapolis could take nearly 24 hours.

SR talks of Dick Morgan (guitar player in the group “Sunset Serenaders”)  and his wife Betty, early performers on the BCJ.

SR recalled that Mother Maybelle and June Carter “and one or two of her sisters” stayed at “the cabin” at BCJ Park;  “I know, she said something about she was hungry, you know, and I looked at my husband, I said, “Well, what do you feed a star?”  She says – and now, God is my witness – she said “Ain’t you got no baloney?”   And we had baloney, so we fixed some baloney sandwiches.  But wherever they had to go, they didn’t want to leave that night after the jamboree, and they was gonna wait till the next morning to go, and rather than go get a motel or something, they didn’t have that much money either, so we let ‘em stay.  The cabin had balcony bedrooms up, and then another one off – and of course, people lay on the floor and slept, they didn’t care where they slept.”

SR cooked chili for a lot of performers that stayed over, “dishpans full” .   SR and KR would stay in the cabin overnight and then attend the BCJ on Sunday.

SR’s husband KR went around with Lois Chitwood (former Miss Indiana) for a while.

SR:  Chris Dayton!  Oh a steel guitar player, one of the best in the world.  He’s deceased.  I can’t remember who Chris played with.  He was from around the Indianpolis area, used to play in a night club up the road here.    Chris Dayton played instrumentals, with a group.  He played on the south side of Indianapolis, at a place called the Point.

SR: [Didn’t know of Loren and Maxine Montgomery; didn’t know of the Logston Sisters (Fern and Carol)]

[SR didn’t recall Dan Burton, but said  – Burtons are half the town in Edinburg.]

SR:  Bobby Helms started down there.  He played at the Jamboree, the first time he was ever on the stage.  He begged, and he begged, and he would come by, he was from Helmsburg, and he’d want to play. And we’d always have so many on there, and one night my husband said “Yes.”   And he played several times for nothing, just to get that.

And then he started dating a girl across the street, a girlfriend of mine – I was young, I was only seventeen.  Well Bobby had no car, so Kenneth’d bring him up to see Jean, we’d ride ‘em around or let ‘em visit, then we’d take Bobby back home.  

That’s where he got his start, the first time he was ever on stage was at the BCJ.  Well, it had to have been back at least to 1948. 

SR:  KR did most of the booking (of BCJ shows).  He set there in the control room, with the headsets, and let ‘em audition.  I listened to one, I never will forget him –  um, Micky Milligan.  He played on the Jamboree, and the reason why he did – I had the headsets on, and he sang “Sending You a Big Bouquet of Roses” [first recorded by Eddy Arnold in 1948] and I said “Oh my god!, o my god!”  And my husband come in, says “What’s going on?”   I said “Listen to this guy.”  I can remember just going on like a fool, and he listened, and he hired him.  Now, I don’t know how many times, but he used to let me put the headsets on when they would audition, you know, to see if they was gonna be worth having.  And when he sang, I just melted, I could not believe it!  It had to be back in ’48 or ’49.

SR:  Old Joe Clark and Grandpa Jones both performed at the BCJ, but Clark played there before 1948.

Grandpa Jones:  “He was the nicest looking gentleman, and I was a-talkin’ to him, and all at once it come up, and “Oh my god!, I can’t believe this!”  He was just a young gentleman, and he wore that same stuff till he originally grew into it.  And those same old boots!  Ever’ time I ever saw him, he had the same old boots!

SR favorites:  “Pee Wee King and the Golden West Cowboys”  They played down there quite a bit.  My husband and I went down to Louisville, to the WAVE, Louisville station, and when they made the “Tennessee Waltz” I got a big 78 of it. . . “ PWK wrote to SR, wanting to use her daughter Pam to sing. 

SR – Redd Stewart was one of PWK’s band members, married a girlfriend of  SR’s in Indianapolis. 

TA: When did you stop going to the BCJ?

SR: When they sold it, in 53.    

SR: Do you know, I don’t ever recall seeing [Bill Monroe] down there [at the BCJ].  Seems like he was so hot—And another one we never did get was Eddy Arnold.  They couldn’t afford his price. 

TA: Mixture of local and regional/national fans?

SR: Well, when they got more money—people kept comin’, and it kept filling up, and they got enough to where they could book these bigger acts.  Now Lonzo and Oscar were there, and Homer and Jethro. . .

TA: [notes that Ken Marvin came later]. 

SR: And one of those four (L&O, H&J), I don’t know which one, but one of those guys was so tight that they wouldn’t hardly buy a sandwich if they were hungry.   Seems like it was Lonzo and Oscar, but I can’t recall.  But now, I remember seein’ them.  Oh, I can’t remember who all used to be there . . .   I think I’ve told you most of the main ones.  But it was a joy.  But like I said, I started going in ’48 till up in ‘53—at the end of ’53, whenvever they bought it.  They was buying it in ’53.

TA: [tell me about parking cars from horseback]

SR: Well, now Glenn, my brother-in-law, and Kenneth, and Dad too, they had a big old tent out there on the ground, before they got the money to build the barn.  And as the cars come in, Glenn rode horseback, and would ride around and show people where to park.  Now, they told me about this; that was before I knew ‘em.  But I remember – and it seems like I had seen a picture somewhere, and I don’t know where-- [interruption]

SR: [TA had asked about reserved seating].  Seems like it run in my mind, it was a quarter and you could sit where you wanted to, and first come, first served.

TA: [recall Silver Spur telling about the tent. ]. 

SR: Yes, now I’d heard that.  And the old cars, a lot of ‘em, and --- the way Glen said, they didn’t have that much, and everybody that was close would all pile in one car and come, so they’d have a place to put their car.  And I guess back then, you couldn’t afford two or three people to drive a car, and you pooled ‘em.  But I don’t know how many years that was.  But they did have, like you said, the biggest tent that was ever put up.

TA: [ushers showing you to your seat?]

SR: Well, there was some of the girls, and a friend of mine that I ran into---   Anyway, I have a neighbor over here that’s eighty-three, and she’d been wanting to go down to the Senior Citizens, in Franklin, and so I thought “I can do that,:” so I run down there, and I took her.  And I run into--  I don’t know her maiden name, it was May Beth Walls, and before she had married her husband, Mr. Rund used to come and get her and take her down there to help work at the Jamboree.  Well, now, that was before my time, ‘cause I don’t ever remember May Beth being down there.   But she would--  I thought she said worked at the concession, with the pop.  Well, we had that later, so that was before my time.  And she’s 70, or past.  But—I don’t know.  But yes, I guess they did, had people to-- You know, I was always over there dragging pop out of the horse tank, I didn’t know what was going on!  And that was making a dime, you know.   And I still have out there, I’m pretty sure I kept it, I don’t think I threw it away—Each time that money—How much we took in each week, how much I paid out for stuff.  I kept a ledger [for the concessions.  TA: Not the tickets?]  No—Mother did that, Mae did that.  And people would call at Stone’s Crossing all week and make reservations, “ I want seat so-and-so, and row so-and-so”  and some people had the original seats.  Every week, every Sunday, they had their regular seats.  There was a—I can remember these people, they came every Sunday that I can ever remember being there.  I can’t think of it.  Yeah, the front row, the first three rows was always booked, no one [else] could have ‘em.

TA: How did it get started with shows on Sunday?

SR:  They would have one on Sunday afternoon, and then in the evening, too.  Because there was so many other little places people were goin’ on Saturday night, to this other little stuff, you was talkin’ about, probably Monroe County.  And I don’t know about the Little Nashville Opera, whether it probably wasn’t even invented then.  But they had places, and little old barns and houses and stuff, that people would go to this on Saturday night.  And they talked this over, and figured it would better be for someone to have it Sunday evening, or afternoon, after church, where the families could go.  And that’s why they did it on Sunday. 

TA: Is that something that your father-in-law figured out?

SR: Well, yeah, ‘cause I remember---   And I had asked that question.  And then the thing on the radio, the Grand Ole Opry, and people would listen to that on Saturday night, if they had a radio.   Well they come to find out they wouldn’t get that many people, because the other--  these older people had their plans already made.  So that’s why, from what I gathered, is why they did it on a Sunday afternoon, so it could be family-oriented . . .   And there wasn’t no vulgarity or nothing, and you know, it was just old country music.  And you could be there, as well as in church, and they always sang a hymn at the last.  Always closed with a hymn.

TA:  [Theme song?]

SR:  I don’t know.  I can remember seeing Alva, and his wife, because we used to kind of run around together, and then Jack and his wife – Jean --  we used to go down to their place, and run around with them.  But now, he played on the show before —   I don’t remember him [Jack] playing down there, but I do remember Alva. If [Jack] was there, I don't recall it.

[TA asks about a record?]

SR: Oh, it's-- the two Doyle sisters, and my husband, and Annie Goud is on that.  If my old record player will play. 

MR:  Jack Cox may have had some old posters.

SR: Do you know where they were?  They were at the grocery store, a bunch of 'em, in the basement.  And I didn't get any of 'em, and they tore that down.

[SR picks out photos that I will have copied from her collection.

[end of side A]

[start side B]

SR: I didn't think I'd remember that much! 

[TA leaves her some pictures and maps of the property.   Discussion of availability of old newspapers from Franklin, Indiana.   TA comments that many bluegrass fans think Monroe began everything at Bean Blossom].

[Tape recorder turned off, then on, as we look through some old records.  Audio Disc Home Recording made by locals:  "Kenneth, Annie, Juanita Demo Tape." Says "Recorded at K&R Recording Studio, 3602 Graceland Avenue, Indianapolis, Ind.   Winter, 1945.  78 rpm record recorded from the inside out.]

TA: Who did you say is on here?

SR: Nettie, Juanita, Annie and Kenneth, that's my husband. 

[we see other records in her collection by Louis Armstrong, Hank Penny, Billy Vaughn, Hal Aloma, Sidney Bechet Trio, etc.  We try to get the record player to work to play back the home recording.  Finally it works, plays  "Life Is Like A Mountain Railroad."  Kenneth Rund sang lead, the other three did harmony to a "sock" guitar sound with a few runs interspersed at the end of lines -- possibly Juanita? ]

TA: Three women singers, and Kenneth?

SR:  Yeah.  Couldn't you hear his bass voice?    I didn't think it would get to me, but I guess it did. . .

[tape turned off for a while, then:]

TA:  What was that story?

SR:  Oh, my husband and Nettie--  well she, was the oldest of the girls, the thinner one -- were on the [Jamboree] stage, dancing to a jitterbug piece, and Kenneth picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, and his feet went one way and Nettie went the other!  She got up and said "Thank God you didn't fall on me, Kenneth!" 

[end of interview]