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About Medford mail tribune. (Medford, Or.) 1909-1989 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 3, 1957)
o o o ococ o o o -. A " . ft ' ' "1. 1 IT ''An. Vtl' k I VJ . - ar A ' much for the most famous Ifoone since Daniel (Pat's . great-great-great-great-grajidfether, incidentally). "Being a teen-age hero," he Sid recently, "is something like being elected to public office. You have an obligation to act for the public welfare, nd you can handle the job MViWPIA aM- like a statesman or like a iPNB 1 Politician." ty ' iWtyX The parallel is strikingly pt. A statesman (or politi cian) is effective when he gets the backing of diverse groups and neutralizes the potential opposition. This po litical coup Pat has already accomplished, with little more than a pleasantly lazy smile, a gentle way with a tune, and good manners. In the words of Randy Wood, his discov erer and manager: "Pat's the first teen-age idol Grandma , fVy can dig, too." t-xafci "ii when fat croons and ly lf?t ?V J bobby-soxers shriek, parents CvUVift&4s don't squirm. Sometimes they W-?VCX'2 j--SJi:1 v.... i... j x.?56e -iM even uuy ais recoru. ueriiam because Pat dilutes his gentle rock 'n' roll offerings with cannily chosen ballads from the good old days: "Bernard ine," penned long ago by Johnny Mercer: "Love Letters S5nKS in Sand," first sung by a Gold Mine in the Sky," made famous by Bing Crosby when Grandma herself was . young enough to swoon. But if Pat has made a hit with Mom and Dad, not to mention Grandma, it's not so much by the songs he sings as the way he sings them. "The human body," he has said, "consists of about 200 separate bones and I don't think it's necessary to call them all into play. I belong to the finger-snapping school myself. That, and a little tapping of the feet, is enough to satisfy my soul." But there's danger in the picture of Pat as the All-American, home-loving, church-going, non-smoking, non-drinking, hard working college-boy type. The too-good publicity troubles him. "I'm afraid it makes me look thin and saccharine." It also caused one hardened oldster in show business to remark: "I didn't believe it until recently when I had to work with him. But this guy's for real!" A quiet, subterranean cold war seems to exist between Pat '" and the publicists around him. They keep erecting an antiseptic statue that Pat keeps dismantling. "Why, look," the Hollywood praise agents say, "he's such a big success in Hollywood, yet he hasn't gone Hollywood. He's just plain Pat." Not long ago Pat was asked how come he hasn't "gone Holly wood." He shrugged and said: "When you get off the train with three babies on your arm and your wife's bringing up a fourth that's not quite born yet, the chances are you're going to keep on doing the same little things you've been doing." He disarmed the press corps even more when the news broke that he had supposedly refused to kiss his leading lady, Shirley Jones, in his second movie, "April Love." After the noisy "ohs" and "ahs" died down, Pat was asked about this, too. "I didn't refuse," he said. "The script didn't call mi for my kissing her. The producer suggested t&at njofte Scene) I Wight So we talked about it, then decided against it. If tbe question comes up in another picture, I'll decide then lxat to fa.' Pat relishes his popularity, as what youth Wouldn't But W) profoundly modest. When someone calls him $ movif ittf, h blushes. He moves and talks slowly, confidently; yet h iJrivtfl. "When I was 9 or 10," he recalls, "I never kjpked forare to birthdays. I knew time was passing that I'd never he tfiltt. At 12, I got into every chorus, sport, &nd ethool orf,tnttqtt I could join. I dread wasting time. I have even studied 1ai)e driving on those straight Texas rods, Tfrith ft hiatore xtit on the steering wheel. I don't recommend it, but I didn't Wat to waste time." All his life he has felt an urge, almost a calling, to teach, to crusade for spiritual values; yet from the Beginning ne'e been enticed by show business. "When I was a kid in Tennessee, I used to dream of being a great doctor, a greet professor, a great bueineesman, or even a great preacher." He muses about this a moment, then comes up with the other side: "I remember sitting in the barn milking our cow Rose marie and singing as I milked. I'd sing and I'd dream and I'd really believe I was Bing Crosby or Perry Como. What wonderful dreams I had!" Wonderful as they were, and contradictory as they seem now that they're coming true, they're not so contradictory after all. "I feel that the Lord wants to use me as a singer for Him," he has said, "and that He has given me influence with young people so that I can do good." Once, after 12 exhausting hours at the recording studio, he had to attend a movie premiere. He'd have given anything to go as he was in slacks, lumberjack shirt, white buckskin shoes. "Go ahead," a friend urged. "After all, you're a star. You can get away with it." "That's just the point," Pat sighed. Then he went home to change into a tux. Pat has only one more semester to go at Columbia University. When TV entered his life, it looked as if he'd have to postpone the schooling. "But too many teen-agers want to quit school," he argues. "I can't set a bad example. Rehearsals for my TV show will have to fit in between classes." While Pat sees himself as an example, he's not a prude. He doesn't swap gossip, smoke, swear, or drink. But neither does he criticize others for doing these things. "That's their way, and I have mine." Since his spiritual beliefs prevent him from danc ing, he's sometimes asked why he makes records which are supposed to be danced to. "If other people want to dance," he replies, "that's all right." He's not trying to convert them to his ways and doesn't feel obliged to be converted to theirs. ask pat how he got that way, and he'll answer right off: "Mack Craig." That's the name of the principal of David Lipscomb High School in Nashville, where Pat studied; preacher in the Church of Christ, where Pat worships; young husband and father, whom Pat emulates. "He was not much older than most of the students, but he was so busy. He came to all the games and social affairs. How he managed it, I'll never know. If it were not for his influence, I might be somebody else today. Mr. Craig is the kind of fellow I'd like to be." In high school, despite the social handicap of a phenomenally high IQ of 150 and near-perfect grades, Pat was elected president of his class, then president of the entire student body. He waa a four-letter athlete and captain of the baseball team, a news paper cartoonist, and star of the school's stage productions. To top it, he was voted "most popular boy." But while he was popular, he was never the gay blade. "Before I was 15," Pat recalls, "I went out with three girls, one at a time. I realized they weren't for me. Each time I broke up, I felt guilty." Then he met Shirley Foley and no matter how he looked at it, she was for him. Her father is the famed Red Foley, idol of the country-music world. One day Shirley learned tht Foley (Pat has always called him "Mr Red") had signed for a n Family Weekly, November 3, 1957 . 7 oO.o I .n c - 0 I a ;? . i .. ) 1 m H MEDICALLY 1 S 1 $ APfWMD! I I Your First Aid Kit in I Jar "Velme" there loie mark of 0itMDti(h Pood Inc nGimriG A COLD -AND CONSTIPATED, TOO? When you are constipated, tak a laxative that acts overnight i th gentle way nature wants . . . with out robbing food and vitamins you need. Take gentle-acting Ex-Lax at night. It won't disturb sleep . . . won't cause upset or urgency. Next morning, enjoy the closest thing to natural action. 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