THE MUSIC MOTHER OF NASHVILLE- MOM UPCHURCH
by Stan Hitchcock
When I moved to Nashville in 1962, there was a place that was the very essence of the picker’s Grandmother’s House.......it was on Boscobal Street, and it was called Mom Upchurchs’ boarding house, and she only rented to Musicians. Regular civilians were not welcome at Mom’s. You had to be fighting the music business wars to be eligible for a bed.
Mom Upchurch was an elderly widow with pure white hair, sparkling blue eyes, a no nonsense nature and a natural love for people in the pursuit of music.
Her house was a two story rock, early American, turn of the century structure, with two bathrooms and four bedrooms, a small living room, an even smaller kitchen and a screened-in back porch.
You didn’t rent a room.....you rented a bed and shared a dresser, seven to ten dollars a week, which matched what most musicians were making playing on the Opry on a Saturday night, and every once in awhile, when Mom thought you needed it, she would slip you some of her home cooked food, always a special treat for a starving musician.
Mom had a careful screening process, and evidently she knew what to look out for, because I do not know of anyone ever causing trouble for the good lady. Well, I passed her inspection and moved in to the upstairs bedroom, at the right of the stairs, first bed on the right, third drawer in the one dresser, no we don’t have a closet and don’t use all the hot water when you take a shower or you are in a heap of trouble. Yes ma’am, I sure won’t. And, by the way, don’t be making noise coming in at all hours of the night like some of those music people. No ma’am, not me. And another thing, do you like fresh apple pie? Yes, ma’am.......Well, come on then, don’t just stand there.
So many pickers had lived here, through the forties, fifties and into the sixties, that it would sound like a Who’s Who to list them.....Faron Young, Carl Smith, Buck Trent, Buddy Emmons, and musicians from all the bands traveling out of Nashville. Picker or Singer, she didn’t care and there was no pecking order at her home everyone was treated the same, and they all shared one thing.....they loved this woman called Mom.
I lived at Mom’s one whole year and when I was gone on the road, someone else was sleeping in my bed, but it was always empty and clean when I came back in and Mom was always glad to see you back.
She had an old black rotary dial phone on a little table in the living room sitting on top of a white crocheted doillie that was starched so stiff you could cut yourself on it. She took the calls from girlfriends, record producers, booking agents, stars looking for musicians, musicians looking for stars, wives looking for musicians, bill collectors, record companies looking for their artists, fans, wives looking for husbands and assorted everyday calls like a country music answering service. She did it all without once getting ruffled, out of sorts or getting girl friends and wives mixed up. No easy task at a Musicians boarding house.
I have always believed that there should be a special Award given to Mom Upchurch, or at least her own star in the walkway in front of the Country Music Hall Of Fame.
When Mom Upchurch died, a few years later, the funeral crowd looked like a Grand Ole Opry lineup, for those starving musicians had grown up, moved on and stood out......but, they had not forgotten.
Your friend, Stan!
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