By Laurence Zwisohn

 

Roy Rogers was everyone's image of what a cowboy should be, from his white Stetson with
its silver hatband to his hand-tooled boots. His face was strong and handsome with eyes
that squinted yet still showed a twinkle. His smile was warm and reassuring. Whether he
was wearing fringed Western wear or a checkered cowboy shirt, he was the epitome of what
a cowboy should be. He was the picture of honesty and integrity. And was there ever a
more exciting sight than watching Roy and Trigger riding majestically across the television
screen or a rodeo arena? No wonder three generations of kids (and adults) 
wanted to be like Roy Rogers. We wanted to look like Roy, dress like Roy, and be as honest
and forthright as Roy.

 

He gave us standards to live by that helped teach us the difference between right and wrong

. His willingness to stand up for the things

he believed in inspired us. And his religious faith and his concern for the less

fortunate helped mold our character. Roy lived his life off camera with the same decency

and humility that he projected on television and on the silver screen. He was the hero

who never let us down. Despite all the success that came to him, Roy never seemed

to lose his way. And he never forgot that his fans were the ones who made it 

possible for a poor boy from Ohio to attain a level of success greater 
than anything he could ever have imagined. His decency and strength of character

come from a simpler time in America. Yet it was anything but an easy time.

 

Roy Rogers, the King of the Cowboys, was actually born in the city. It was in Cincinnati, 

Ohio, on November 5, 1911, that Leonard Slye (later to be known as Roy Rogers) was born to
Mattie and Andy Slye. Years later, the building where he was born was torn down to 
make way for Riverfront Stadium (recently renamed Cinergy Field), the home of the 
Cincinnati Reds baseball team. Roy liked to say that he was born right where second base is
now located. But the Slye family was never cut out for city life, so a few months after 
Roy was born, Andy Slye moved his family to Portsmouth, Ohio (a hundred miles east of 
Cincinnati), where they lived on the houseboat that he and Roy's uncle built. When Roy was
seven years old his father decided it was the time they settled on the solid ground, so he bought
a small farm in nearby Duck Run. Living on a farm meant long hours and hard work, 
but no matter how hard they worked the land there was little money to be made. Roy often said
that about all they could raise on their farm were rocks. Eventually, Andy Slye realized 
that he'd have to return to his old factory job at the United States Shoe Company in 
Cincinnati if he was going to be able to support his family. Since his father would be able to return
home only on weekends, this meant that even more of the responsibilities for farm chores
fell onto Roy's young shoulders.

 

Mattie Slye suffered from lameness as a result of polio she had contracted as a child, 
and Roy always marveled at the way she was able to raise four active children (Roy and his
sisters, Mary, Cleda, and Kathleen) despite her disability. Still, farm life agreed with 
Roy, who often rode to school on Babe, the old, sulky racehorse his father had bought for him
. According to Roy, "We lived so far out in the country, they had to pipe sunlight to us." 
Living on the farm meant they had to make their own entertainment since radio was in its earliest
days and television was far in the future. On Saturday nights the Slye family often invited
some of their neighbors over for a square dance, during which Roy would sing and play
the mandolin. Before long he became skilled at calling square dances, and throughout the
years he always enjoyed finding opportunities to showcase this talent in his films and television
appearances.

 

It was also while he was growing up on the farm in Duck Run that Roy learned to yodel. 
Andy Slye had brought home a cylinder player (the predecessor to the phonograph) along with
some cylinders, including one by a Swiss Yodeler. Roy played that cylinder again and again
and soon began developing his own yodeling style. Before long, Roy and his mother worked
out a way of communicating with each other by using different types of models. 
Mattie would use one type of model to let Roy know that it was time for lunch, another to warn
that a storm was brewing, and still, another to call him in at the end of the day. Roy would
then relay that message to his sisters by yodeling across the fields to them.

 

By the time Roy had completed his second year of high school, it was clear that their farm would
never support the family, so he made the difficult decision to drop out of school and take
a job with his father at the shoe factory in Cincinnati. Roy quickly discovered that factory
work was just as hot, monotonous, and unpleasant for him as it was for his father. 
Since his older sister, Mary had married and moved to Lawndale, California (close to Los 
Angeles), Roy and his father decided they should quit their jobs, pack up the car, and take the
family out to visit her. Somehow their old car held together, and they eventually made it
to Lawndale. (The old Dodge family car in which they made that trip is now on display at 
The Roy Rogers-Dale Evans Museum.) After a four-month visit the Slye family returned to 
Cincinnati, but by now the cold Ohio winters couldn't compete with the lure of California's 
warmer climate. A few months later Roy returned to Southern California, where the rest of his
family soon joined him. Although the Depression was growing worse by the day, Roy and
his father had hoped that jobs would be easier to find on the West Coast than they were
in Ohio. However, California turned out to be just as hard hit as the rest of the country
. Jobs were hard to come by, and they didn't tend to last very long. Roy worked at 
anything he could find, including driving a gravel truck on a highway construction crew 
until the truck's owner went bankrupt. In the spring of 1931 Roy went up to Tulare (located 
in central California's farm belt), where he picked peaches for Del Monte and lived in the 
same labor camps John Steinbeck wrote about so powerfully in his classic novel, "The 
Grapes Of Wrath".

 

After returning from Tulare, Roy happened to be playing his guitar and singing at his sister 
Mary's house when she suggested that he try out for the Midnight Frolic radio program, 
which featured amateur talent and was broadcast on KMCS in nearby Inglewood. Although 
Roy was reluctant, Mary finally talked her brother into going on the program. A few nights 
later, wearing a Western shirt his sister had made for him, Roy overcame his innate 
shyness and appeared on the program, where he sang, yodeled, and played the guitar. 
Years later, Roy said that he was so nervous when he came to the microphone that 
afterward he never could remember what songs he sang that night. Still, he must have 
done all right, because a few days later he received a phone call asking if he'd like to join a 
local country music group called The Rocky Mountaineers. Despite his shyness Roy was 
always willing to reach out for any opportunity that came his way, so he accepted the 
group's offer and became a member of the band in August of 1931. Before long, he began 
urging the group to let him find another vocalist, so they could harmonize together. 
Eventually they gave in, and he placed an ad in the Los Angeles Examiner seeking a 
"yodeler." Roy always enjoyed telling the story about how Bob Nolan showed up for his 
audition carrying his shoes in his hand. Bob had spent the summer working as a lifeguard 
at Venice Beach, and the long walk from the old red car trolley line to the house where The 
Rocky Mountaineers were rehearsing had caused his new shoes to give him blisters. But 
with or without shoes, Bob Nolan was a singular talent. As soon as Roy heard Bob yodel, 
his eyes lit up, and Bob said he knew he had the job. Before long, Bob's friend Bill 
"Slumber" Nichols joined the group, and they began singing together as a trio.

 

Bob Nolan stayed with The Rocky Mountaineers for about a year before deciding the group 
really didn't have a future. Roy placed another newspaper ad, and Tim Spencer became 
the newest member of the group. In September 1932 Roy, Tim, and Slumber left The Rocky 
Mountaineers and worked briefly with The International Cowboys. In June 1933 Roy and 
Tim joined a new group called The O-Bar-O Cowboys and embarked on what turned out to 
be a disastrous tour of the Southwest. The Depression had hit rock bottom and 
entertainment was something most people simply couldn't afford. The boys barely made 
enough money to pay for gasoline as they drove throughout Arizona and New Mexico in 
the heat of summer in the days before air conditioning. Roy recalled, "We starved to death 
on that trip. We ate jack rabbits, we ate anything we could get to eat." While in Roswell, 
New Mexico, the group was given air time on the local radio station so that they could 
promote their appearance in town. Each of the boys talked about how homesick he was 
and mentioned his favorite foods in hopes someone might take pity on them. Roy 
mentioned how much he missed his mom's lemon pies, and a short time later a call came 
in to the station saying that if he would sing "The Swiss Yodel" the caller would bake him a 
pie. That evening there was a knock on the cabin door at the motor court where the boys 
were staying. When the door was opened, there stood Arline Wilkins and her mother, each 
with a freshly baked lemon pie. After Roy's return to Los Angeles, he and Arline began 
corresponding, and in 1936 they were married.

 

In September 1933 The O-Bar-O Cowboys straggled back to Los Angeles and the fellows 
went their separate ways. Roy was able to land a job singing with Jack And His Texas 
Outlaws on radio station KFWB. Still, the desire to be part of a good harmony group 
wouldn't leave him. Roy always loved harmony singing, and even after achieving success 
as a solo performer, he always preferred singing harmony to singing solo. He contacted 
Tim Spencer and talked him into giving it another try and said he thought Bob Nolan should 
be the third member of the trio. Roy and Tim drove out to the Bel Air Country Club where 
Bob was working as a golf caddy. (Somehow or other, even in the midst of the Depression, 
Roy always managed to have "wheels.") Although Bob was somewhat reluctant, he agreed 
to join with them and see if they could make a go of it. The three fellows moved into a 
boarding house in Hollywood (that had once been owned by Tom Mix), and they began 
rehearsing. The boys decided to put the emphasis on Western music and call themselves 
The Pioneer Trio. Day after day and hour after hour they rehearsed until someone's voice 
gave out. Throughout this time Roy continued singing with The Texas Outlaws so they 
could pay their rent. After weeks of constant rehearsing, the trio finally felt they were 
ready to be heard.

 

The boys were able to get an audition at KFWB, and many years later Bob Nolan recalled 
that day. He and Roy and Tim were confident they'd developed a good vocal blend, had 
some fine original songs, and had come up with a unique trio yodel. While they stood on 
stage singing, Jerry King, the station's general manager, along with staff announcer Harry 
Hall, listened to them from the control booth. After a couple of tunes The Pioneer Trio went 
into Bob's song "Way Out There," which featured their distinctive trio yodel. As soon as 
they began the yodel, Jerry King got up and left the booth. Bob recalled, "our hearts fell to 
our feet." It seemed as if the endless weeks of rehearsing, developing a new sound, 
writing songs, and building a large library of musical material had all been for nothing. 
When a smiling Harry Hall came over to the boys, they asked why he was so happy when 
the station manager had just walked out on them. Hall told them that as soon as Jerry King 
had heard their trio yodel he'd turned to him and told him the group was hired. The boys' 
dejection rapidly turned to joy.