Fresno Folk History (continued). More Pierce’s Park interviews (the Centerville bar now closed) on Highway 180 along the Kings River, as told to Evo Bluestein. Why? It was an important place for music, before the Fresno Folklore Society.
This is Pierce’s Bar from the front (recent picture).
From Ron Tinkler, banjo player with The Sweet’s Mill Stringband (which came after The Sweet’s Mill Mountain Boys)
I guess it was probably 1961 or 2 that we started going out to Otis Pierce’s which was known as Pierce’s Park. Pierce’s Park was a bar and a piece of land on the King’s River, southeast of Fresno. There was a campground and a big dance hall downstairs. In the ‘50s Maddox Brothers and Rose played at Pierce’s Park–Spade Cooley too. My folks would go down there. Some of us continued to go to Pierce’s Park until 1968. Whoever was around would go out there Wednesday or Thursday and sit around the stove. Otis would unplug the jukebox so nobody would put a quarter in it, hide the balls for the pool table and tell everybody that it was music time. You could either sit and listen or you could leave. Those were kind of house rules and nobody messed with him. That’s where I learned to sit and listen, mostly. Things went by that were precious moments.
“At the Bar” recent photo taken through the crack in the chained up doors
From Peter Everwine, Poet, CSUF professor, banjo player in The Sweet’s Mill Mountain Boys
It was a rough place and I don’t think your dad liked that sort of stuff. I had a ball. I took a lot of bullshit from them because they knew I was from the university. They’d call me peckerwood and like that. But it wasn’t mean. They accepted me. Made fun of me but listened, and I played. I had a good time. I don’t think your dad would have liked being called peckerwood. I don’t remember him coming out to those things, frankly. He may have been there a little but I can’t recall him being there very much. Otis was tough. He carried a gun. He carried one of those black saps–filled with lead–nasty stuff. And I’ve seen him use it. He was rough. It was not an easy place. I was okay out there. I was never harassed or threatened. I always felt I could sit in quite easy. Ron (Hughey, fiddler) didn’t do much of that. Frank (Hicks, guitar) didn’t go out there. Frank didn’t like bars. When we went up to the Jabberwockey (Berkeley) I remember Kenny (Hall) came with us. Kenny liked a Guinness or two every now and then. Frank didn’t like that.
Sweet’s Mill Mountain Boys at Sweet’s Mill: Ron Hughey-fiddle,
Frank Hicks-guitar (obscured), Peter Everwine-banjo. photo: Jon Adams
We used to go out to Pierce’s in the winter. Otis had a big wood stove and we’d sit around there and play music. I remember Otis would always play a song called Don’t You Hear Them Wolves a-Howlin’. I could never figure out what the hell it meant. A fellow named Charlie, when he was sober, would join in on fiddle. Otis was the big cheese there. Whatever he said would go on. You didn’t fool with Otis. He didn’t stand for much nonsense. He didn’t like unruliness. He didn’t like drunks or people shoving around too much and he wasn’t polite about it.
I went to his funeral. It was remarkable. There were photographs of him playing. He was laid out in brand new bibb overalls. Brand spanking new, the kind he always wore–black bibs. There was a hell of a crowd. It was in Centerville. It was very moving. If I remember right, Eleanore (Otis’ daughter) was there–sang some hymns. They had his banjo leaning there, next to the coffin, a big photograph of him playing it. It was a nice ceremony.
Otis Pierce and Larry Hanks, ca. 1975 photo: E.Z. Smith