Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1958)

load of work, but was handling it successfully, Mr. Craig explains, because he has an I.Q. of 160. “That,” his former teacher and good friend says, “is much higher than very superior, and a person with that much intelligence is usually versatile.” “Right here,” Craig adds, “I’ve got to say a word about Rosemary. Rosemary was Pat’s cow, and I think she had a high I.Q., too. Certainly she was adaptable. “While Pat was engaged in all these activities, he was also milking and taking care of Rosemary. And he milked her at the strangest hours. Sometimes he wouldn’t have time to milk until after midnight. But poor Rosemary didn’t seem to mind. She was the most cooperative cow I’ve ever known.” Craig, who rose from classroom teacher to principal of David Lipscomb High School and who is now dean of David Lipscomb College, joined Mr. and Mrs. Boone in their concern for Pat and Shirley when the young people’s romance became serious. “I talked with them time after time about it,” Craig says. “I knew Pat so well and realized that he was a most level-headed youngster, but I was afraid that he wasn’t ready for the responsibility of marriage.” Shirley Foley Boone is the daughter of country western singer “Red” Foley, who was connected with the Grand OF Opry in Nashville. She entered David Lipscomb High School as a boarding student when her mother became seriously ill, and caught Pat’s eye when she sang with a school quintette. “Some stories say,” Pat’s mother observes, “that he never dated anyone but Shirley, but that’s not true. Pat dated several girls. But he never went steady with the others. “The first time I met Shirley, Pat brought her in with a crowd of boys and girls who were going sledding.” Mrs. Boone looks contentedly around her small but attractive home. “We never lock the door. We always want the children’s friends to feel welcome here, and they come and go constantly. So I didn’t pay any particular attention to Shirley when she came in with Pat and a crowd.” Later it dawned on the Boone family that Shirley Foley was not just another girl to Pat. She was very special. “And she is special,” her mother-in-law boasts. “She has what you might call a bubbling personality.” When the teenagers began to talk about getting married, the Boones became alarmed and enlisted the aid of Principal Craig. “Actually,” Margaret Boone recounts, “we thought we’d broken up the romance. We understood that Pat and Shirley had quit seeing each other. Of course you can’t keep children in love from seeing each other unless you tie them to the bedposts or lock them in their rooms. Both Pat and Shirley gave the impression that their romance was finished.” A good friend of Shirley’s recalls the two-month interval of clandestine meetings. “Shirley told us,” she says, “that she and Pat had broken up, so we were dumfounded when they married. During the time they were supposed to be through, Shirley had occasional dates with other boys, but I don’t think Pat dated anybody.” Where did they meet so secretly for their Romeo and Juliet style courtship? “I can’t imagine,” the friend says. “Neither of them has ever said.” But while most of the world concluded that Pat Boone and Shirley Foley had said “goodbye,” a handful shared their ex citing secret, the knowledge that they were planning to marry. One was “Red” Foley, the bride-to-be’s father. Shirley’s mother had died, and her father had remarried. Mr. Foley felt that Shirley’s greatest chance for happiness lay with Pat, and he agreed to their wedding plans. In fact, since Shirley was under age, he signed legal consent to the match. Another who knew about the impending ceremony, although at the last minute, was Nick, Pat’s younger brother. What he thought about it is not on record, but he kept the secret. Finally, wise, deeply interested Mack Craig knew the truth. He even bought a suitcase for Pat’s outfit and flowers — orchids — for the bride. Then, as the most gallant gesture of all, he broke the news to Pat’s parents. “When it was certain that Pat and Shirley were going to marry in spite of everything,” Craig says, “I decided to help them. I wanted them to have a ceremony they could remember as beautiful and dignified, no hole-in-the-wall affair.” The wedding day was Saturday, and Pat left home that morning to go to the radio station where he worked part-time. He didn’t take so much as a change of clothes with him. Then Mr. and Mrs. Craig, Pat and Shirley went to Springfield, Tenn., an hour’s drive from Nashville, for the exchange of vows. That evening, Pat’s parents, brother, and sisters were getting ready to go to a church service when Craig called and said he was coming over to discuss a serious matter. Right away,” Margaret Boone remembers, “I felt sure what it would be. I told Nick to take the girls and go on to church ahead of us.” And Nick, who also felt pretty sure what it would be, left with considerable haste. Mr. and Mrs. Craig crossed the front porch with misgivings, fearful of how they and their news would be received. Did the Boones resent what the Craigs had done in helping Pat to elope? Not for an instant, they say. “We know that Mack and Dottie love our children as much as we do,” Margaret Boone explains, “so we knew they had done what they felt best for Pat.” When the bride and bridegroom came home next day, they moved in with the Boones temporarily. Later, they settled in a housing project back of the David Lipscomb gymnasium, and their subsequent moves to Texas, New York, and Hollywood are show business history. During the few weeks that the newlyweds lived with Pat’s family, Margaret Boone and her daughter-in-law developed a strong bond of understanding and mutual admiration. Margaret was even brave enough to give Shirley some cooking tips. “I tried,” she says, “to teach her to prepare some of Pat’s favorite dishes. He loves chess pie, he’s crazy about squash cooked with onions and seasoned with bacon drippings, and he can’t get enough fried corn. Shirley can cook squash the way he likes it, and she makes a nice chess pie, but she can’t get the knack of frying corn. “I believe,” Mrs. Boone confides with a burst of sectional pride, “that you have to be born in the South to master that, and Shirley wasn’t.” But fried corn or no, Pat Boone’s mother likes his wife better every day. “Shirley has so much talent of her own,” her mother-in-law declares. “Pat loves to hear her sing, and they sing beautifully together. Still, she’s completely satisfied to give up any thought of a career and devote herself entirely to his welfare and to the children. They hope they’ll have several more children, and they say they’re going to send them to David Lipscomb to school.” Should Pat’s children come to David _ Lipscomb, Dean Craig will feel almost like a grandfather, because he not only supervised Pat’s marriage but launched his professional singing career. “I don’t think this story’s been told,” he says. “The Nashville Civitan Club had an amateur contest and invited each high school to be represented. We entered Pat and felt sure he’d win, but he didn’t even place. However, Jim McKinney from a local radio station heard Pat compete and, after the contest, gave him a lot of encouragement. “Pat told me about -it, and I got an idea. I thought it would be feasible to broadcast a weekly radio program featuring high school talent, and I thought, too, that Pat would be an ideal singing master of ceremonies. “I talked with Mr. McKinney about it. He said he’d had the same idea, and pretty soon the show was on the air. Understand, I don’t take credit for the show. It was Pat’s talent that sold the station on the program.” Pat, nevertheless, must think his old friend and teacher deserves a lot of credit. He recently presented him with a brand new station wagon — fire-engine red! In a country where movie stardom is the ambition of millions, it’s ironic to realize that Pat Boone’s family and friends have reservations about his career. His parents and the Craigs, alike, sometimes ask themselves whether or not Pat’s plunge into the entertainment world was wise. “Oh,” his mother says, “we’re very proud of him, and we’re grateful that the Lord blessed us not only with one fine son but with four fine children. “We’re humble, too, before the wonderful way in which the public has received Pat. But we worry. We realize that he’ll be under pressures, and we pray that he won’t lose sight of spiritual values. We don’t think he will, but sometimes we’re frightened.” Craig says, “I talked with Pat about his plans for a career when he was in the ninth grade. I talked with him often and tried to advise him. Then he had no idea that his future would be so surprising. He hadn’t thought of theatrical work at all but was strongly attracted by religion.” “He taught Sunday School and worked at a day camp,” Mrs. Boone interjects, “and he found teaching appealing because of his fondness for children.” “You know,” Craig continues, “he’s still going to get his teacher’s certificate from Columbia. “And,” the dean beams proudly, “if his grades don’t drop, he’ll be a Phi Beta Kappa.” With a grin, he added, “David Lipscomb specializes in college preparatory work.” A person with Pat’s intelligence and versatility, Craig points out, could be a tremendous success in many fields. “But Pat feels,” his mother says, “that the Lord has been responsible for his success as a popular singer and, therefore, the entertainment world must be the right place for him . . . for the present, at least.” And wherever Pat goes in the future, Margaret Boone knows that he will have a Divine Guide at his side. “None of my children has ever questioned the divine inspiration of the Bible,” Mrs. Boone says. “Pat accepted it completely when he was a child. And when Pat, or any other person, has really accepted the Bible’s teachings, he won’t go too far wrong.” The End 73