From the Tour Bus to the School Bus’...Sid Pierce shares stories from his book ‘Roadie’ Nov. 20 at Historium

An old adage says people who differ from the norm "march to the beat of a different drummer." Those who know Ozark County native Sid Pierce say he's one of those different people, and Sid agrees. After spending more than 50 amazing years in the music industry, as well as time in the Navy Reserves and several years as a classroom teacher, the 69-year-old, who wears his beard long and his gray hair longer, chuckles as he says simply, "I'm a drummer. I march to my own beat."

He describes his extraordinary, exciting and sometimes heartbreaking march through life in his new book, "Roadie: From the Tour Bus to the School Bus," which he self-published and released last month. He'll talk about his book and share some of its many appealing funny, surprising and sad stories during a talk at the Ozark County Historium at 10 a.m. Thursday, Nov. 20. He'll bring along books to sell and sign. The event is free and open to everyone. (For now, Sid's book is available only by contacting him directly at Mr.SidPierce@gmail.com or by visiting his website, sidpierce.net.)

The book starts on the morning of Aug. 2, 1956, when Sid's parents, the late Herman and Lessie Pierce, carried him from Dr. M. J. Hoerman's office, where he had been born a short time earlier, to their duplex home across what is now Second Street in Gainesville. 

Then, "Herman promptly returned to work as Ozark County's only deputy sheriff," Sid wrote. Herman Pierce would later serve as Ozark County's sheriff for 20 years. 

Eventually, Sid's musical career would take him all over North America and into Europe and even Russia. But his first love for live music began in humble Ozark County homes tucked back in the hollers where he accompanied their parents to "music parties" featuring local musicians who gathered in a circle in the living room or kitchen to play bluegrass or gospel songs.

Sid would hide somewhere close to the musicians to listen and soak up "the energy in the house. Not only from the musicians, but the appreciative audience as well," he wrote.

Colorful contradictions 

Sid's career in music started when he was in high school, but it didn't have a confidence-inspiring beginning. Sid played trumpet – actually a used cornet his dad had found somewhere. At the end of his senior year, he got an F in band on his grade card – and also won the award as best band student. It was one of many eyebrow-raising contradictions Sid would live out through the years.

He started a rock-music band with some fellow high school students. Since his funds for musical instruments were limited, at first Sid played the tambourine and his mom's washboard – wearing four thimbles to create percussion sounds. To say the teenagers had some little misadventures with their band would be like saying the Titanic had a minor malfunction. They were loved by their fellow students and sometimes reviled by school authorities and other adults. 

Finding a place to practice was a problem – until Randy Fish joined the group and the boys practiced at Clinkingbeard Funeral Home, which was run by Randy's dad, Charles Fish. 

Sid eventually got a real drum set, and before he was old enough to drink alcohol, he was hired to play with adult musicians in bands at taverns on the state line. Of course, minors weren't supposed to be in taverns, but there he was. And guess who dropped him off and picked him up for these gigs? His dad, Sheriff Herman Pierce. 

Sid graduated from Gainesville High School in 1974 and enrolled in college, but it quickly became apparent he wasn't ready for academia. He got an A in music appreciation class and an F in creative writing. He dropped out, came home and was hired to work in Quality Control at what was then Baxter-Travenol's manufacturing facility ("Baxter Lab") in Mountain Home, Arkansas. 

That didn't go so well either. "Imagine Barney Fife on his first job," Sid wrote. "That was me." He continued playing in area bands on weekends as he struggled through three years at the Lab. "I was in my mid-20s and floundering," he wrote.

He quit and headed to South Carolina to join his friend and schoolmate Kim Ebrite, working as a carpenter's helper on the construction of a nuclear energy plant. That job lasted two months. Then, during a nine-month odyssey, he and Kim traveled the country, camping out of Kim's Chevy van and working whatever jobs they found. 

For Sid, those jobs included washing dishes in restaurants, driving an ambulance, digging ditches, working as a farmhand, making football players' shoulder pads and working in a fiberglass factory.  

He returned home, rejoined Baxter Lab and re-connected with musicians to work in local bands. Then he happened to see an ad in a Christian music magazine: "WANTED: SOUND ENGINEER to tour the United States and Canada with a contemporary Christian music group." Sid didn't know much about running sound for musical groups, but he answered the ad and was hired during the phone call. His friend Wayne Littlejohn drove him to St. Louis. There, he boarded a train to Michigan, where the ARC Ministries group was based. A member of the band's crew taught him the basics of running a sound board.

After ARC's tour ended, he was hired by another band, and then another. That was the start of Sid's many years traveling cross-country with different musical groups and recording artists – with a few interruptions here and there. 

One of his jobs was working sound July 19-28, 1985, at a Billy Graham Crusade at the California Angels Stadium in Anaheim. Besides Graham's powerful Gospel messages, the event featured a 10,000-voice choir. Sid and his crew had to manage the sound systems not only for the choir, Graham and the other speakers, the music soloists and the 65,000 people who filled the stadium, but also for the 5,000 others in the overflow area. 

From that mind-blowing experience, he returned to Gainesville "with no prospect of work." He took a job washing dishes at Lynch's restaurant, "the very club I had been successfully playing music in earlier," he wrote. 

The job was hard, humble work. But he was aware that his dad, the sheriff, had never been prouder of him. Sid cried when he got his first small paycheck – not for himself but because he realized the woman he worked with at Lynch's, who  received a similar small paycheck, was supporting five kids and had worked there for 10 years. 

Sid was in the midst of re-enrolling in college when he got a phone call offering another job with a sound contractor. It was exciting to travel the country again; the job even included a friendly exchange of words with a former U.S. president at one gig. But that job ended at the sound company's Christmas party, when the other employees got bonuses – and Sid got a pink slip because he was no longer needed. 

He returned home, hoping to rejoin Baxter Lab, but they declined to hire him a third time. So he joined the Navy Reserves. After boot camp, while training with the Navy's Basic Electricity and Electronics School in San Diego, "I realized that I was among some of the smartest people I had ever been around," he wrote. 

In such a setting, he was grateful for his high school algebra teacher, WWII veteran Ealum Bruffet.

With his first Navy Reserves commitment completed, he returned home and enrolled in classes at what is now Missouri State University in Springfield. After finals that year, he looked in the Yellow Pages for Springfield sound companies where he might apply for a job. He was quickly hired by Dyna-Might Sound and Lighting. Sid's life changed when his new boss said, "We provide sound for Roy Clark; how would you like to go on the road with him?"

On the road with Roy

Sid's 20 years with country music star Roy Clark is told in dozens of entertaining stories that comprise the middle of the book. From the very first Roy Clark show he worked, Sid became "an instant fan of his singing" and "witnessed a world class performance, followed by a sermonette on being kind."

He eventually worked sound directly for Clark, rather than as a Dyna-Might contractor. His job included the short time each year when Clark recorded that season’s popular televised country music show “Hee Haw.” He continued working with Clark after he opened his theater in Branson. 

With Clark, Sid traveled throughout the United States and Canada and lived through adventures – and contradictions – wherever they went, from relatively long stays in casino cities to one-night stands in clubs, arenas and state fairs around the country. Sid’s stories sometimes relate the best times, including when he earned a compliment as best soundman ever from Ray Charles, and the worst times, including the show when he wanted to curl up in the fetal position under the non-functioning soundboard. They played to big crowds – and disappointing turnouts. When they opened a 10-day engagement at a legendary casino in Las Vegas, “Roy set a new record for having the most people in attendance on opening night,” Sid wrote. Then, 10 nights later, only 75 people attended the show. “The room looked empty,” he wrote. Not long after that, Clark performed before more than 100,000 people at the North Dakota State Capitol on the Fourth of July. 

In 1988, shortly before the Berlin Wall fell during the Cold War, Clark and his band took their show to Bulgaria and Russia. And, as you would expect, Sid has plenty of good stories recounting their time there. 

In Moscow, seeing the “gigantic red-and-yellow Russian flag flying over the Kremlin was unnerving for someone who had practiced getting under school desks in case of a Russian nuclear attack,” he wrote. 

In one story, he describes how he was befriended by a Russian music professor who invited him to his apartment for a meal with his family – a special honor in that time and place when food was difficult to get for Russian citizens, he said. The professor told Sid he had spent seven years in a Siberian work camp as punishment for teaching his students to play jazz. 

The visit ended after public transportation had stopped running for the night. Thinking ahead, the professor had arranged for his non-English-speaking friend to take Sid back to his hotel – in his garbage truck.

The visit to the professor’s family earned Sid a frightening encounter with the KGB, Russia’s intelligence service. 

The next chapters

The third part of Sid’s book takes a more somber tone as he describes some of the “speed bumps” he has encountered in his last almost-20 years. He recounts how he resigned from the Roy Clark show after two decades to pursue a career in teaching. He mentions his attempt to reenlist in the Navy after 9/11. (The Navy said he was too old.)  

The speed bumps are offset by some of the good things that have happened to Sid in these last years. His third marriage, to Brenda, included her daughter Brooke, who was 8 when they met and is now an adult with a child of her own, Emma. Sid says he and Brenda “have put up with each other for 30 years, which has shocked both of us, but it didn’t take as long as either of us expected.” Together, they have overcome tough challenges, including medical bankruptcy, and now enjoy a good life at their home in Republic. On the book cover, Sid writes that he is “most proud of being a Girl Dad along with his favorite title, ‘Poppa Sid.”” 

In the last part of the book, Sid talks about the heartrending blessing he and his sister Beth experienced in being with their dad in his last days as he died from cancer. After being told he had about six weeks to live, Herman returned home to Gainesville. Sid accompanied him on his last trip to town, when he walked his regular weekday-morning route, greeting friends at the post office, MoPar, Sonja’s Beauty Shop and Skeeter’s Cafe and telling them the bad news. “I don’t mind dying,” he told his friends at the “liars’ table” at Skeeters. I just hate being gone so long.”

After his dad’s death, Sid finally completed his college degree on what he calls the 30-year degree program. Part of the work was done with a laptop computer, the internet and MSU’s remote-learning classes while he was still riding Clark’s tour bus. Later he enjoyed being a 40-something student on MSU’s West Plains campus while freelancing sound jobs part-time. He continued his role as a popular, well-liked human being – and was nominated as the MSU sophomore class homecoming king candidate. “I prayed not to win,” he wrote. 

He graduated with a major in elementary education with a middle school emphasis and was hired by the Gainesville School District to teach three classes of sixth grade social studies and one class of communication arts. 

His introduction to teaching was brutal. “I survived my first year thanks to my co-workers, Edwina Welch and Cheryl Beason. They demonstrated what collaborative teaching strategies were,” he wrote. Their work paid off. “When the state standardized test results came back the following year, we had the highest communication arts test scores in the district.”

He and Brenda struggled to make ends meet on Sid’s teaching salary. When a higher-paying job opened in Reeds Spring, he applied and was hired to teach fifth grade there, a job he loved. But walking home to their apartment one day after school, Sid became very short of breath, alarming Brenda. She insisted they go to the hospital, where he had a near-death experience while undergoing testing that led to cardiac bypass surgery.

“We almost lost you,” the doctor told him after he was resuscitated. “You were one heartbeat away from . . . “

“Aren’t we all?” Sid said, interrupting him. 

Some of the funniest parts of the book also come in the last section, when Sid tells about the time a commercial airline flight was diverted because of a band member’s misguided smelly antics – and also the night Clark accidentally “mooned” President George H. W. Bush during a White House Christmas show. 

Sid is a talented storyteller, and these are only a few of the stories he relates in colorful detail in his 381-page book. Now semi-retired, he and Brenda share their Republic home with two dogs, Ella and Grace, while especially enjoying their role as parents of Brooke, now engaged to Lance Comstock, and as the grandparents of Emma, now heading to law school. Sid works gigs as a drummer or a sound technician as he chooses. 

He closes his book by summarizing what he perfectly portrays in his stories: “It is a blessing to enjoy your ‘life’s work.’”