Tuesday, December 3, 1957: Earlier this week, on Sunday
night, Buddy Holly and the Crickets have debuted on the Ed Sullivan Show, after taking “That’ll Be the Day” to the top of
the charts. The following afternoon, in suburban Atlanta, Georgia, it’s clear
and chilly; Elsie goes into labor and Bill drives her downtown to Piedmont
Hospital. At 4:04 the next morning, they have a baby girl. They call her
Barbara Ann—not a family name (there hasn’t been a Barbara Brannon in the line
since 1753, just one they happen to like (Barbara is the seventh most popular
name for girls that year). It will be some years before either the Regents or
the Beach Boys make it a musical hit. This Barbara even predates Mattel’s
Barbie doll by a couple of years.
Grandma Brannon especially rejoices. “She’s the first girl
born into the Brannon family in fifty-seven years,” she takes to bragging; not
since my great-aunt Fannie Lou arrived in 1900 has there been anything but a
regular crop of rambunctious boys.
So here I am fifty-seven years later, alive and well in
Lubbock, Texas, where several of my family have also relocated. The ’57 Chevy
is a classic. So am I, then, I suppose. In the hometown of Buddy Holly I’m
grateful to begin another year on the planet. Here’s wishing for a good one! Not
just “That’ll be the day”—the sardonic phrase uttered by John Wayne in The Searchers that inspired that bunch
of young musicians way back when—but “Everyday,” another of those great 1957
hits.
