KINGSTON TRIO: AUTOBIOGRAPHIES (1967)

The following autobiographies are taken from their 1967 Farewell Tour concert program.

Nick Reynolds:

"Write your autobiography," Frank, our manager and friend, informed us. So I'll start by saying I was born on July 27, 1933 in Coronado California. Well, it wasn't really Coronado, it was San Diego. There wasn't a hospital in Coronado. Consequently, my mother was bundled into warm clothing and transported by ferry boat to San Diego. I returned to Coronado in swaddling clothes. Preceding me into this world and ferry boat rush were two sisters, Barbara and Jane. This obviously makes me the baby of the family. I have always been totally aware that I was the pampered one. I know this because it was told to me repeatedly. I must say I enjoyed it and will continue to do so. During my so-called formative years we traveled a lot. My father was pursuing a Captain's career in the Navy. My mother was pursuing my father. When we would all get together my father's love of music would take over. He would play his guitar; we would all sing.

When World War Two happened to my life, our family retreated to a ranch in Alpine, California. There I spent my boyhood in typical Tom Sawyer fashion: learning to ride horses, fishing, hiking, and having asthma attacks. It's a wonderful way for a young boy to grow up, but I hope I never have to. When World War Two left my life, our family returned to Coronado. I graduated from Coronado High School in 1951. While there I continued my serious ways: playing tennis, basketball, and spending most of my time with "the boys" skin diving and goofing off on the beaches of Baja California.

After graduation from high school, I went to college, or rather colleges: San Diego State, University of Arizona, and finally graduation from Menlo Business College, much to my family's emotional and financial relief. It was while at Menlo I met Bob Shane. We began singing for fun at school rallies, private parties, and various popular watering holes. We were not an overnight success. We weren't even mildly successful. However, we never knew or cared about success--we were too busy enjoying ourselves. Our group of two would quite often extend itself into as many as six or seven. When invited to perform at various campus functions, we would never be quite sure how many of us would show up for the performance.

Upon graduation, to the chagrin of our families, Bob and I decided to try singing professionally. Today, to our parents' pleasure (I hope), along with John Stewart, we are The Kingston Trio.

All this, I realize, appears quite simple. It was not. From the lackadaisical campus days to the routine of shaping, forming, rehearsing, and performing a professional act, was one of the hardest working times of my life. Looking back, I seriously doubt if I could work that hard again. I've enjoyed my profession to such a degree that at times I feel a small amount of guilt. How can anyone enjoy his work so much and yet be so well paid for it? This feeling of guilt, however, is short lived for my enjoyment of singing and performing, especially with Bob and John, can make any negative thoughts disappear from my mind.

I often have been asked, "How long will you keep it up?" In answer, I can only reply, "We always have and always will be honest with ourselves regarding our work and it's creation and enjoyment. The day this becomes a drag, it will be realized by all of us, and that will be the end of it."

So much for that. Today and tomorrow seem already full with interests of which at times I have many.. Major ones include photography, skeet shooting, cars, any cars, and my family. At the moment I'm interested in promoting and building sports racing cars. They are designed, built and cursed over by Nade Bourgeault of Sausalito. The plans are to build about one a month. The prototype is being tested by Mr. Bourgeault and myself. Frank Werber drives a Lotus 22 Formula Jr., although I will be driving the Bourgeault racing car this year.

In the extra spare time ("What extra spare time?" queries my wife), I am restoring a 1926 Rolls Royce Phantom I station wagon which I purchased in England while on tour. It will take approximately two years of work before it is ready to be shown in auto shows.

Nevertheless, the real core of my time is totally taken up with my family consisting of my "darling, understanding, and compassionate" wife, Joan, and our five-year old son, Joshua, a model of boyish terror. This model family of mine is the center of my life. My work and my numerous interests are the circle surrounding them. I'm honestly happiest when my time is completely filled with the things I like to do--running around the circle and jumping back to the core. Time to relax is for other people. If I sound happy, pleased and contented, well, I am.

Okay Frank, you've got the autobiography. Can I go work on my racing car?

Bob Shane:

As a supposed "folk singer" I would be able to say something "ethnic" about myself like "I was born in East Virginny." But, sorry, I was born in Hilo, Hawaii, February 1, 1934. I'm a fourth generation islander - which there is a joke about in the islands. They say the missionaries came to the islands to do good and did well. Anyway, while I was in the 9th grade in Punahou High School, I decided that I needed something to give me a little boost in the popularity department. I got an inexpensive four-string tenor guitar and played along with the gang. I often tell people that I learned to play and sing in self defense. This is because music is such an integral part of island upbringing. Everyone does it, and if you don't, you aren't with it. The only formal musical training I had at the time was singing in Glee Club. But I did appear in a couple of plays and musicals in bit parts which gave me a little inkling as to what it's like to be on stage in front of a live audience--and I liked it! It wasn't until much later that I realized how necessary (and often fatal) it is to have an ego satisfied in show business.

After graduating from high school I went to Menlo School of Business Administration in Menlo Park, California. Here I met Nick. He had a car and I had a guitar, and for some strange reason we became inseparable. Shortly thereafter, Nick acquired a set of bongos and we were in business. While in college we played at any and every kind of place and situation that we could to get experience with various audiences.

When I finished college in 1956 I went home to Honolulu and first worked for Athletic Supply of Hawaii (my dad's wholesale sporting goods and toy firm). Then I worked for Sears Roebuck and concentrated on becoming an entertainer. My act consisted of impersonations of Elvis, Harry Belafonte, Hank Williams, Lefty Frizell, Rhythm and Blues - and everything, trying to find my own style.

After going as far as I could in the islands, I felt brave enough to try the states again with Nick. Hence the trio was formed, the details of which I'm sure you'll find elsewhere in this handy dandy paperback.

The first time the trio played Honolulu I had a blind date (arranged by my father!) with the best looking girl I'd ever seen. Six months later, March 15, 1959, Louise Brandon and I were married in Washington DC. The next day I went back on the road and for the first year of our marriage I was away from home 285 days. It's things like this that make an entertainer re-evaluate his life all the time. You have to either be in it all the way or not. If you kids who are so sold on show business think this is glamorous, think again. When our first little girl, Joan Glancy Shane (Jody), was born May 4, 1961, I was there briefly and gone. When our second girl, Susan Hull Shane (Tutu because Jody couldn't say Suzy), was born November 6, 1963 I wasn't there at all. When I think of what a great life this is, I can't help but give most of the credit to my wife who has to stay home and put up with the rough part of it.

Because of all this, I thought it would be nice to have a farm in Georgia (where Louisa is from) to get away to. So we bought Kingston Farm in Roswell, Georgia as a summer place. It seems we now spend most of out time there. What more, with every convenience including privacy, could anyone one want? We live quietly with Joker, Duke, Camille and Sugar Plum, the horses; two cats, Jasper and Blackie, and our old English Sheep Dog, Pooh Bear. We have two cars, Louisa has a Cadillac with auto stereo to listen to the competition, and I have a Shelby A.C. Cobra, bright red; I don't race but I sure have fun with hot rods. I shoot skeet as much as possible and have a few trophies so that it's not a complete waste of money. I chose shotguns because Louisa is a champion with pistols.

I am not a folksinger and never will be. I am a singer of folk songs among other things like show tunes and songs written today. My pet peeve is the so-called ethnics who put me down because I'm putting a lot of work into making it a good living. These people should remember that show business is a business intended to entertain, not exclusively a media for airing personal and world problems. When asked if it's fun I reply, 'If it weren't enjoyable, I shouldn't and wouldn't be doing it." This means all of it, including all of the shows, promotion, advertising, rehearsing, public relations and charity. I enjoy it all. As I mentioned earlier though, one of the things that can kill you the quickest in show business is your own ego, sometimes you get so puffed up with yourself without realizing it that when someone asks why you think so much of yourself, the air goes completely out of you and you feel like quitting. You have to constantly remind yourself that you're a human like everyone else, no better, no worse, and treat all others with the same respect that you require for your own peace of mind.

John Stewart:

There was no comet in the northern sky on the day I was born. Nor did a lioness whelp in the streets. It was nothing more than an unbearably hot September 5th in 1939. I spent little time in the place where I was born: San Diego, California. It was a place of sailors and gray buildings. There was always a cool breeze from the ocean, but for some reason the air was always permeated by the pungent order of fish. I suppose that's why I hate fish even today.

My father was a horse trainer, one of the best in the country, and we moved as often as there were new horses to be put into shape. I spent my younger days in Pasadena, a friendly city with much more than parades and football games. It also, on occasion, had locusts. These were happy days though, when school was a bore and Hopalong Cassidy was the answer to all mankind's problems. It was here, at Wilson Junior High School, that I had my first encounter with the world of show biz. Molly Bee, Ginger Duberly (she's now Mrs. Don Drysdale) and I were in the 7th grade talent show. As I recall, we were horrid but eager.

The family then moved to Pomona where I was to attend Pomona Catholic High School, a place of much intrigue and serious study. In the latter, I was somewhat deficient. It was during this period of awkward adolescence that I really discovered music. I was no Bob Mathias when it came to sports (the doctor said I grew too fast or something equally as evasive), so I took to the guitar and "rock and roll." My mother, you must know, is an incredibly tolerant and kind person. I do think, however, I destroyed her nervous system at this time. (She is one of the few living saints of our time).

I also had a comedy act going with a schoolmate, George Yanok. We were the Martin & Lewis of Pomona (Henry Martin and Richard Lewis). We won the Sears and Roebuck Amateur Contest and did a lot of local television. George is now doing quite well as a comedian on his own, something I never had the courage to do.

I kept singing and banging upon my guitar, doing mostly Elvis Presley impressions, but I knew something else could be done with this instrument, something a little more acceptable to my parents and teachers. It was here I discovered folk music and started writing songs like mad. I had written "Rock and Roll" ballads before but never very seriously, but folk music was a challenge. It had to say something. Everyone kept assuring me, "Folk music will never sell." This should prove to you, never listen to your friends.

When I went to college I kept singing folk songs at parties, book burnings, coffee houses, bacchanals or anywhere more than three people would gather. The Kingston Trio were now starting to become not just popular but a religion, and my songs were becoming quite acceptable around the campus. So when The Kingston Trio was playing at the Coconut Grove in Los Angeles, I took a few of my efforts to one of their rehearsals, and the next thing I knew they had recorded a song of mine called, "Molly Dee," and I had a new profession: songwriting. We became good friends, Nick, Bob and I, but also the man behind the mask, Frank Werber. Frank knew I had a folk group of my own that was, to put it mildly, starving. He called one day and told me that a record company in New York was looking for a new trio. We ran to the plane without even packing. The group was called The Cumberland Three. We did three albums for Roulette Records that, let's say, were not chartbusters, but we worked a lot and had many Yaks. It was good boot camp.

I came home once a year to visit my folks and my younger brother, Mike. My two older sisters Betsy and Marge, had set out to make their own way a few years prior to my thrust into the proverbial "rat race." I spent my time eating mom's cooking and running around to my old haunts hoping to find some of the nuts I used to hang out with. One day I ran into a girl I used to hang out with in high school. We met when I was singing at her graduation. We dated briefly after this. It was brief because I marred her immediately. Her name is Julie and she is the most beautiful person you'll ever meet, no taste in men, but beautiful. There isn't a phony pretentious breath in her soul.

We spent a year starving in New York, collecting bottles to make phone calls and living on pancakes for weeks. Then, without warning, the Cumberland Three broke up. I was out of work for about ten days when Frank Werber called me again. The Trio needed a new member and they wanted me to come out and try out. I auditioned in Bobby's (Bob Shane) den. It was excruciating, but they were very kind and told me they'd let me know who the new member would be. When Frank informed me I was the one, I was stunned. My first impulse was "I can't do it." But they kept reassuring me, needling me and beating me into the role. I went every day to study with Judy Davis, the greatest vocal coach in the world (I don't hesitate in making that statement at all). I think Judy did more for me in those weeks than I'll ever realize. I go back to her whenever I can.

My most treasured memory is meeting President Kennedy at the White House. I remember vividly every detail of that day. He was a remarkable man and I miss him very much.

The most wondrous thing that has ever happened to me was my sons. John Mikael and Jeremy. They are the greatest joy that I have ever known. I am very proud of them, and they don't take me very seriously so it works out fine. Mikael is three and sings a song called "Fruit Train." Jeremy is just one and a half and loves to hit Mikael while he's singing "Fruit Train."

I like to do anything worthwhile, but this of course is a matter of semantics. I abhor baseball, compact cars, pre-digested television shows, "The Great Society," wide tires, very skinny tires, nit-picking folk singers, neon signs, bigots, the emancipation of the American woman (at least those who can't cope with it), plastic substitutes for anything, squash, ceramic panthers and roosters, pop art, paint by numbers, the John Birch Society, cynicism in place of understanding, and being subjected to mental thumb suckers. I could go on but my collar is getting tight.

I do enjoy Laurel and Hardy, Robert Frost, football, photography, sketching, Alexander King, all kinds of music (except polkas), James Bond, Mason Williams, Peter Sellers, poking fun at sacred cows, American history, my World War I fatigue jacket, writing songs, staying up late, bad old movies (that I see when I stay up late), the Beatles, Leonard Bernstein (he's a riot), British accents, Salvadore Dali, James Therber, strange antiques, my work, singing with friends, cigars, Huntley and Brinkley, skiing, politics and most of all John Mikael and Jeremy.

I really love young people, especially creative young people. The world, I hope, is waiting for them. I believe in peace, but more than peace I believe in liberty. For if I am not free, I have no peace. I guess I'm quixotic, but there are worse things to be. My favorite quotes were said by Tennyson in "Ulysses":

"Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The Soundings furrows, for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the paths
Of all the western stars, until I die"

and President Kennedy, who related:

"There are three things which are real:
God, human folly and laughter.
The first two are beyond our comprehension so we must do what we can with the third."

Frank Werber (Manager):

A cosmopolite who is erudite and witty, and wears a close-cropped beard with distinction, Frank Werber was a San Franciscan by choice when his path crossed that of three young men singing in a Stanford University off-campus student drinking spa.

The ensuing success of The Kingston Trio is history now, but it is interesting to note that the management of their affairs from inception has been the reason significant to their overwhelming success and achievement of economic freedom. Today, guided by the extremely competent advice of the Trio's legal and financial counsel, Frank heads up a vast empire of business enterprises in which the trio is involved--a network of interests whose headquarters are two entire floors in a San Francisco office building, the Columbus Tower, which they own. Kingston Trio, Inc., managed exclusively by Frank Werber, is a multi-million dollar business encompassing such activities as artist management, the production and presentation of new recording talent, record promotion, recording studio management, real estate and land development, restaurant and night club supervision, control of publishing companies, sale and distribution of sheet music and song books, television and all personal appearances, as well as the production of new shows, plus many other equally diversified domestic and international enterprises.

Frank's almost "fanatical" desire for perfection has brought about his involvement in and supervision of all these developments. Since under his guidance, not only has the trio grown artistically in stature, but their show business earnings have been carefully invested in a myriad of enterprises. His field of responsibility increases continuously, making it necessary for him to possess not only a flair for creative showmanship, but the business acumen of a Montgomery Street financier, and foremost, the ability to comprehend and guide the various functions of each new corporate activity.

Frank's long range financial planing can best be evidenced in the latest corporate endeavor - together with Decca Records and Universal Pictures. In one move, Trident was established as an independent record producing company, recording not only The Kingston Trio but many other worthwhile artists as well. He then negotiated the sale of Kingston Trio albums with Decca Records as sole exclusive distributor , and subsequently, from Universal, obtained many motion picture and television guarantees that will insure The Kingston Trio's success for many years to come.

His artistic flair can best be evidenced in The Trident, the aesthetically pleasant restaurant-night club on the Sausalito waterfront. The atmosphere, view and menu make it not only a place favored by the cosmopolites of the Bay Area but a "must see" spot for visitors from all over the world.

So we find that whatever Frank Werber is, he is above all a manager. His total dedication is to his associates, to their careers and their public at large. Unlike many managers who rely heavily on several teams of specialists, he is the "new breed of executive" who is both financial manager as well as artistic advisor.

Frank Werber's real life story in a sense does contain suspenseful elements and seeds that somehow foretell the unrivaled success he today enjoys. Born in Cologne, Germany, he arrived in the United States in 1941, after having lived in most of the countries of Europe and spending one year under the tension of life in a concentration camp. His escape to freedom is a story stranger than fiction itself . . . one that has yet to be told. Immediately after Frank graduated from high school he joined the Navy, served as an aviation photographer and later as a midshipman. After the war he attended The American Academy of Art in Chicago and the University of Colorado. Perhaps as a result of his experiences as a refugee, combined with the perverse impatience of most veterans, Frank became restless and soon was on the move again working in a variety of unrelated occupations as commercial artist, gold >miner, cab driver, horse rancher, ski lift operator, construction worker and press photographer.

San Francisco, which first stirred his imagination during his service stint, beckoned him again. Only this time when he arrived, his total resources amounted to a mere fifteen cents. After a few months of a hand to mouth existence, he unexpectedly met "Enrico" (Banducci) and found himself involved in the night club business. He was soon not only in building and managing the now famous hungry i, but through his public relations efforts, he was instrumental in nationalizing its image. After serving an interesting four year apprenticeship Frank looked for greener pastures. So he opened his own public relations office.

Soon thereafter, he happened upon a group of young college students whose main occupation and therapy seemed to revolve about singing for the sheer enjoyment of entertaining themselves, and anyone who happened to be about. He signed them to a management contract. Then, in quest of perfection, he rehearsed the group over and over and over. Frank blueprinted every movement, every detail. Each session was evaluated. The act adjusted, changes made. And soon, The Kingston Trio was signed to a month long engagement at the Purple Onion in San Francisco. They stayed nine months, and through hard work and continuous checking and guidance, they emerged a unique and sophisticated act, ready and destined to explode into national prominence with the advent of "Tom Dooley."

Although Frank's main drive seems to be his enterprises, his interests are certainly not limited to work alone. He derives great joy from his photography, and his past experience has provided him with a deftness, skill and sensitivity that is reflected in many of The Kingston Trio's pictures. He has an inordinate love of the outdoors, and it is not uncommon to find Frank on his Honda wandering through the back hills of Marin County where he is in the process of building his dream house high on a mountain overlooking all, and surrounded by the nature he loves. Skin diving has been one of his favorite sports, and for years he has been going to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico--there, not only to dive in the tropical waters, but to find calm and peace and restore his energies lounging on the secluded tropical beaches. Sailing the Shearwater, his sixty foot Alden Ketch, is one of his favorite pastimes, and whether it is on San Francisco Bay or tropical Mexican waters, it's the kind therapy that Frank cherishes most.

Snow skiing, collecting objects of art and gourmet cooking round out his main interests. That is, until he was smitten by the racing bug. Initially, intrigued with a 300 SL which he completely restored, he drifted through auto crosses and hill climbs in his Ferrari to actual competition driving which has really dominated his interests for the past year. Frank's first year brought into his office and amazing collection of trophies and checkered flags, but he will soon be racing his Lotus 23B no longer for pleasure alone, as his weekend interest has developed into a serious and interesting business venture known as Marin Racing Machines, Inc. MRM, which he started together with ex-Jag team mechanic, Rick Coggin, and ex-Gran Prix driver, Tony Settember, is not only a first class garage and race shop, but will soon be building for public sale their own car designed by England's famous car designer, John Tojeiro, the latest partner to join the family.

But what of the inner Man? Even to the people who are closest to him, Frank Werber seems enigmatic--a contradiction. Even though on the surface he seemingly is an uncomplicated man, the essences of his chemistry and psychological makeup are uncommon. At times he can be a recluse, jealously guarding his own private world, and then again a very gregarious, outgoing person. He is only completely happy when he is deeply involved in a creative pursuit, and is continuously seeking new worlds to conquer. He is an absolute perfectionist and cannot stand involvement with anything second-rate. He is a very independent individual who demands and returns complete honesty. His word is his bond and he abhors liars, evaders or fabricators of any sort. He demands punctuality, yet is perhaps the worst offender! He is extremely aware and possesses an acute sense of perception making him a very kind and thoughtful person; yet at the same time, he completely smothers his friends and employees with his "way of thinking." And while he can be extremely charming to those he likes and respects, he has cultivated some strong enemies by the fact that he has no time or patience for non-productive or non-thinking people.

But even to the people who know him best, Frank Werber is more like an iceberg afloat at sea with ninety percent of his makeup below the surface, as yet unrevealed to anyone, perhaps not even to Frank himself.