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Ronnie D. Burlingame |
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My parents and I moved to Pampa in the fall of '57 from Independence,
Kansas. My father was an oil field laborer, and I had spent my early boyhood
days growing up in Oklahoma and Kansas. I did not graduate from PHS with the class of '58. In April of that year, alongside six other young men from the Pampa area, I enlisted in the U.S. Navy. The navy proved to be a perfect fit for me; I enjoyed a twenty four year career, retiring in '82. After retirement I continued my college education, graduating from Fresno State University in 1985. During my early navy days I began moonlighting as a guitar player. I worked with bands playing at military clubs, backed various artists on USO tours, and always seemed to be pickin' at the local bars and honky tonks. During some of those years the navy was like a part time job to me... don't know how I survived it. In the early eighties God reached out a hand to me. I got myself right with Him and life's never been the same. I started writing gospel music, had some songs published, and moved to Nashville in '89. I began writing exclusively for a local publisher, and, as I like to tell my friends, effectively song wrote my way right into poverty. Ha. (there's some truth to that). I cut an album once, had a couple of songs released to radio. They played a little bit. I used to run the roads performing solo concerts with just the guitar. That was crazy. I've heard my babies (songs) sung by others on the radio (that's a kickin' experience). Sometimes I like to swap stories with friends about the good old days, like the time I found a copy of my album at a yard sale selling for ten cents. ( I knew I'd hit the big time). Ha. Then, there was that golden moment after a concert when a tearful man approached me, shook my hand and said "brother I can't help it--- but every time I hear YOU sing I just want to cry". I said "err, thank you sir... I think". Ha. But on a serious note, there are moments I wouldn't trade for anything in
the world, like a concert at a tiny storefront church in California (most
inspiring, ever); or the one at an all black church in St. Louis (best
audience, ever); or a live radio gig in Hazard, Kentucky (really scary), and
a rare new years eve concert in Huntsville, Alabama (simply wild). |
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