Cheatin’ Hearts, Faithful History

The $37-million Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, which celebrates its first anniversary this spring, devotes more than 50,000 square feet to the colorful history of country music, but nothing illustrates that story more vividly than a single sheet of Chaves County, N.M., courthouse stationery.

Showcased in a crowded display case near the front of the downtown museum’s exhibition area, the 1947 handwritten letter is from a promising honky-tonk singer named Lefty Frizzell to his wife.

Just 19, the Texan was starting to make a name for himself with regular appearances at the Cactus Garden club in Roswell, N.M., where crowds cheered the distinctive vocal style that would make him arguably the most influential singer in country music.

Rather than adopting the smooth delivery of most country singers before him, Frizzell frequently extended notes or exaggerated certain syllables to highlight the tenderness or celebration of his songs. Almost every superior country singer since, from Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson to Randy Travis and George Strait, echoes Frizzell’s style.

But the young singer had to put his dreams on hold in a Roswell jail, where he served six months for statutory rape. In the biography “The Honky-Tonk Life of Country Music’s Greatest Singer,” author Daniel Cooper reports that the teenager was filled with guilt, pouring his heart out in a series of letters to his wife.

Those letters frequently included poems or song lyrics pledging his love and pleading with his wife not to leave him. In the one on display, the lyrics begin, “I love you, I’ll prove it in days to come. I swear it’s true. Darling, you’re the only one.”

He titled the song “I Love You a Thousand Ways,” and it was the first tune he recorded when he went into a Dallas studio nearly three years later to kick off his contract with Columbia Records. Within four months, the song was No. 1 in the country market.

Like many country music performers at the time, Frizzell had no formal musical training, and it’s unlikely he even knew how to read music. But he was able to express what was in his heart--and that gift, to this day, is the underlying magic of the most memorable country music.

The best thing about the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum is that it honors that simple truth.

Much the way some young rock fans in the late ‘70s thought Paul McCartney’s first band was Wings, many youthful country fans may believe the genre started with Garth Brooks. The museum wastes little time correcting that misconception.

As you walk along a path that stretches a long city block down one side of the building’s interior and then back along the opposite wall, exhibits trace the evolution of the music, starting with the folk songs and fiddle tunes of the nation’s early settlers.

The remaining display cases and photos salute technological developments such as radio and recording, which helped spread the music beyond its original rural, Southern base, and the music’s various subgenres, from bluegrass and western swing to honky-tonk and rockabilly. There’s also a strong multimedia component, allowing you to listen to rare old singles or watch highlights of country stars’ TV appearances over the years.

But the heart of the exhibition space is the stories of the performers themselves, often highlighted by choice pieces of memorabilia, including vintage guitars, colorful stage costumes or such entertaining sidelights as Elvis Presley’s lavish, gold-colored ‘60s Cadillac, complete with a TV set in the back.

The parade of stars starts with such seminal figures as the Carter Family, the trio from Clinch Mountain, Va., whose recordings of such songs as “Keep on the Sunny Side” and “Thinking Tonight of My Blue Eyes” bridged the gap between folk music and commercial country, and Jimmie Rodgers, the Singing Brakeman, whose mix of country and blues has influenced everyone from Johnny Cash to Beck.

Proceeding along the walkway, you come across so many other figures, from Bob Wills and Bill Monroe through Hank Williams and Merle Haggard, that you begin to think everyone who ever stepped up to a microphone is going to be saluted. Displays personalize the stories with such fascinating items as Williams’ handwritten original lyrics to “Your Cheatin’ Heart” and a 1971 letter from California Gov. Ronald Reagan pardoning Haggard for 1958 a conviction for burglary and jail escape charges.

But there is room for only a fraction of the more than 2,000 artists who have scored country hits--and the museum staff has shown excellent judgment in deciding which to include.

The staff leans wisely toward a liberal interpretation of the term “country music,” toasting several “outsiders,” including Bob Dylan and Ray Charles, who made invaluable contributions by helping break down arbitrary boundaries between country music and other pop styles.

The staff also values creative contribution over hits. That’s why exhibit space is devoted to Gram Parsons, the country-rock pioneer who made some of the greatest country music of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s but never made the sales charts, and none to Sonny James, a pleasant but undistinguished singer who had 16 consecutive No. 1 country hits during roughly the same era.

Despite all the celebration of the singer in country music, the heart of the music rests with the songwriters who, like Frizzell and Williams, captured the highs and lows of the human experience with such engaging honesty.

It’s fun to stroll through the hall of fame section of the museum and watch fans read plaques of the dozens of figures who have been inducted.

Fans tend to head first for the big names--the Presleys and the Johnny Cashes and the Dolly Partons. As they slowly move around the room, however, they pause at unfamiliar names and discover that many of these writers were responsible for some of their favorite songs.

There’s Jimmie Davis, the former governor of Louisiana who wrote “You Are My Sunshine.” And Harlan Howard, who is considered the dean of Nashville writers because of such hits as “Busted” and “I Fall to Pieces.” And Don Gibson, whose remarkable string of hits in the ‘50s was highlighted by “I Can’t Stop Loving You” and “Oh Lonesome Me.”

The museum doesn’t have letters telling the story behind every song, but you can tell from the drama of each lyric that there is a real story to be told.

The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum opened last May, but its tradition goes back to 1967, when the original hall of fame opened a few blocks away on Music Row, the business core of the country music world where streets are named after two hall of fame members, Chet Atkins and Roy Acuff.

Even in those original, cramped quarters, the museum, under the leadership of Country Music Foundation director Bill Ivey, did an admirable job of championing country music tradition rather than overreacting to the latest commercial shifts in the genre.

Because of this stance, which included extensive research and public education programs, many of country music’s most respected figures have participated in workshops and served on the museum’s board of directors. Marty Stuart is president of the board, and Vince Gill, Emmylou Harris and Kathy Mattea serve in various capacities.

The new building is one of the key pieces in a billion-dollar downtown entertainment district that includes the homes of the Predators hockey team, the Titans football team, the First Center for the Visual Arts and the new Public Library of Nashville.

Designed by Tuck Hinton Architects, the building reflects many aspects of country music history on its exterior, from a mock radio tower to reminders of such persistent lyrical themes as trains and prison windows. Ralph Applebaum, whose work includes the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, was the exhibition designer.

When Ivey was named chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts by President Clinton in 1998, Kyle Young took over as director. Young, whose first job 27 years ago at the museum was selling tickets, is a passionate spokesman for the museum and for country music.

“I think we have a big advantage over other music museums because so many of the artists live here and want to be involved,” Young says, sitting in his office on a recent morning.

“They have been extremely generous, not just in terms of donating memorabilia, but participating in educational programs at the museum.

“From the early days of planning the museum, we gathered curators and historians around a table to decide how to make sure we are being true to the music, and there were some knockdown drag-outs. That still goes on and that passion’s good. Everyone sees the museum as a trust.”

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Robert Hilburn, The Times’ pop music critic, can be reached at robert.hilburn@latimes.com.