The Way I Heard It with Mike Rowe - 357: NEW STORY—She Blew the Doors Off

Episode Date: November 9, 2023

It was late at night and she was pregnant, but Merry still had to go to work. And we're all glad she did.  

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I got a story to tell every word of it true, except for the parts I made up for you, just some history that has been reworded into a mystery called the one. way I heard it. Hello again. Yeah, it's happening. Another brief mystery for the curious mind with a short attention span. Coming at you in mere moments, this one's called She Blew the Doors Off.

It's episode number 357. And man, this was fun to write. I hope this is half as much fun for you to listen to as it was for me to write because it's one of those stories that happened so organically. I was on my way to the airport seven or eight months ago. ago, I guess. And the Uber driver was playing a song, maybe a little louder than was appropriate, but it was a great song. So I actually asked him to turn it up, and he did. And I heard something in the song, not for the first time, but I paid attention to it like I hadn't paid attention

before. And it sent me down a Google rabbit hole. There I was in the backseat of my Uber wrapped in the warm embrace of modern technology, Googling furiously. And I read a few articles, downloaded them onto my computer, and by the time I got on the plane, I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do, and I started to type, and when I looked up, I was no longer in SFO.

I was in Newark. And I had a story that I'm about to read for you. Side note, this story is being turned into a TV show. I've mentioned the story behind the story before. It's basically the TV version of these short mysteries. They air on TBN. And this one's going to be in season five, which is being filmed right now. In fact, by the time you hear this, I'll be in Colorado shooting the raps for season four. So check out the story behind the story at your leisure. Consider this an advanced look at all the stories I write. I sort of workshop them here for you guys. First,

And this one's called She Blew the Doors Off. It's an American-made story because it came to me in the back seat of an American-made car. My Uber driver was behind the wheel of a Ford, and I flew to Newark on American Airlines. And the artist you're about to meet was also made in America, even though she is woefully underappreciated. She's about the best you're going to find. Ah, yes. This is the way I heard it. Mary was a gospel singer who lived up to her name.

She spelled it M-E-R-R-R-Y, because she was born on Christmas Day. But in fact, Mary was Mary year-round. Her husband, however, was not so merry when the phone in their bedroom rang a little past midnight. Jack? You know what time it is? Sorry, Curtis, but we got ourselves a real opportunity here. The boys are in town, and they want to record right now. Jack Nietzsche was a record producer. Curtis Amy was a saxophone player who toured with everyone from Carol King to Smokey Robinson.

But Jack Nietzsche wasn't calling for Curtis Amy. He was calling for Curtis's wife. Let me get this straight, Jack. You want Mary in the studio tonight? You know, she's pregnant, right? I know that, brother, and I am sorry, but the boys need a genuine gospel singer. And Mary's got the goods, but we need to move. now. The boys are set up and ready to go. Curtis glanced over at his 19-year-old wife. She was still awake,

curlers in her hair, recumbent in her silk pajamas, and smiling, like always. What's the deal, baby? Late night session, doll. Bad idea, if you ask me. Well, who's paying? Those boys from across the pond, but look, you're in no condition to be running around Los Angeles in the middle of the night. Mary stretched and rubbed her swollen belly. Those boys are kind of a big deal, Curtis. Sweetheart, you're the only big deal I'm worried about right now. You and that baby, you need to rest. Mary smiled at her husband. The baby's always resting, she said. I need to sing. Curtis could have argued, but he knew his wife. Mary needed to sing just like he needed to play. and Jack Nietzsche knew it too.

There's a car waiting out front, Curtis. It's just a few lines. She'll be back home in no time. Mary put on her slippers, kissed Curtis goodnight, and trundled her very pregnant self into the waiting sedan. She arrived at the studio a half hour later,

still in her silk pajamas and curlers. The boys greeted her at the door. Thanks for coming down on such short notice, said one. Jack said, you've got the goods. Mary's smile lit up the darkened studio. Jack says you boys have written a gospel song. Well, that's fabulous. My dad's a pastor, you know, and I've been singing in church choirs my whole life. The boys glanced at each other, and Mary detected a look of concern. Well, said the taller one, this is not exactly a church song, but it's got a few lines that we think you could

really bring to life. Well, that's just fine, Mary said. Whatever you boys need. Mary felt a kick in her belly. We do need to get a move on, though, she said. It's already past my bedtime, and as you can see, I'm sleeping for two these days. An engineer led Mary and the boys onto a soundstage, where several other musicians were preparing to lay down the track. Mary took her position behind a microphone, smiling brightly at everyone around her. There was a chart on the music stand beneath the mic. Mary picked it up and followed along as the band began to play through the song she was about to record.

The boys were correct. This was definitely not a gospel song. The arrangement was dark and moody, and the words were hard to understand. They were easy enough to read, however. And as she read along, the smile on Mary's face began to falter. And when they finally got to her part, her smile vanished entirely.

Excuse me, she said, but is this a mistake? Are these the right words? One of the boys glanced down at the lyrics in Mary's outstretched hand and nodded. Those are the words, Mary, but we don't want you to sing them. We want you to mash them. We want you to crush them. We want you to blow the doors off this place. Can you do that?

Mary looked again at the words on the page. No, her father would not approve. Curtis would not approve. And the baby kicking in her belly seemed to disapprove already. But Mary was a professional, and truth be told, she enjoyed the way people reacted when she pulled out all the stops, especially in church, where she stunned the congregation week after week with soaring a cappella renditions of Amazing Grace,

abide with me in the old rugged cross. And so, Mary welcomed the challenge and gave the boys exactly what they asked for. She didn't just sing those words. She mashed them. She crushed them. She belted them out with more gut-wrenching intensity than anyone in that studio could have ever expected.

In other words, she blew the touch. doors off that place, with a performance that many believe to be the single greatest background focal of all time, and when she finished, the boys were positively gobsmacked. Unfortunately, it would be years before Mary could listen to that recording, much less enjoy it, because later that same night, just a few hours after she cemented her place in music history, Mary lost her baby. Maybe it was the late hour or the strain she put on her body or the darkness of the lyrics, or maybe it was just bad luck. Whatever the cause, Mary entered the darkest period of her life shortly after belting out the line that made her famous in a signature song that would ultimately

define one of the greatest bands of all time. You've heard it on the radio, and you've probably heard it in movies like Casino, Goodfellas, and the Departed. But you probably haven't heard what the boys from across the pond heard in 1969, moments after they asked a 19-year-old gospel singer with curlers in her hair and Jesus in her heart to blow the doors off. Something to think about the next time you find yourself singing along with the Rolling Stones, as Gimmie Shelter plays for the millionth time, and the incomparable Mary Clayton wails away in the background. Just a shot away.

Anyway, that's the way I heard it. When you leave a review, which we hope that you'll do, tell us who you are. Tell us who you are. And before you go, won't you leave a stop? Declaration of deals, we're pledging our allegiance to the American people with great deals on the RAM 1,500. Back with the legendary Hemi V8 and the RAM heavy duty. With the available Cummins Turbo Diesel delivering 1,075 pound feet of torque, all backed by a 10-year-or 100,000 mile power drain limited warranty,

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