Gene Austin, the original crooner whose recordings sold 86 million copies in the ’20s and ’30s, lost his battle with lung cancer on Jan. 24, 1972.

The popular singer and prolific songwriter was born Lemeul Eugene Lucas in 1900 in the north Texas town of Gainesville.  He did most of his growing up near Shreveport, where his mother moved with her second husband after the death of Gene’s father.

Back in those days, restless boys really did run away to join the circus, and the 15 year old was among them.  Finding life under the big top not all it was cracked up to be, Gene went back home but left for good a few months later.  

The teen talked his way into uniform by tricking a recruiter into believing he was older than he looked.  He kept up the masquerade long enough to take part in Gen. Pershing’s pointless pursuit of Pancho Villa before getting kicked out of the army for being underage.   

But Gene dreamed of fighting the Germans in the trenches of France and reenlisted in April 1917, when his birth certificate passed muster.  As a bugler, he saw the horrors of the World War I only from a distance and returned to civilian life no worse for the experience.  

Gene spent the next four years at a Baltimore college studying dentistry and law, while devoting his nights and weekends to the piano and the blues.  In 1923, he finally faced the fact that music was his true passion and quit school to try his luck on the vaudeville circuit.      

To avoid confusion with an established entertainer named Lucas, the aspiring amateur borrowed his stepdad’s last name.  In spite of a lifelong inability to read sheet music, Gene Austin co-wrote a hit song with his vaudeville partner before the act broke up.

The talented Texan did not have to wait very long for his big break.  In January 1925, Aileen Stanley agreed to record “When My Sugar Walks Down The Street” for Victor on condition that one of the three composers join her.  Gene’s soft voice and understated style convinced the New York cabaret singer they would make beautiful music together.  

Stanley proved to have a keen ear.  Their duet was magic on vinyl, and Victor could not wait to get Gene under contract and back in the recording studio.  

By the end of 1926, the dropout had four best-selling singles and more money than he ever knew existed.  For “Yearning (Just For You),” “Yes Sir! That’s My Baby,” “Five-Foot Two, Eyes of Blue” and “Bye, Bye, Blackbird” Gene received a check for $96,000.  This was at a time when the average annual income in America was $1,500.  

Music business skeptics, smugly certain the overnight sensation was another flash-in-the-pan with a short shelf life, soon had to eat their words.  Gene’s star rose even higher the next year with three more classics:  “Tonight You Belong To Me,” “Forgive Me” and the incomparable “My Blue Heaven,” which sold more records (an estimated five million) than any song in history until Bing Crosby released “White Christmas” in December 1941. 

Crosby was one of many famous “crooners” that credited Gene Austin with creating the uniquely intimate style. Credit also belonged to the inventor of the electronic microphone, which revolutionized radio and sound recording after its introduction in 1925.

Big bucks predictably resulted in a lavish, high-on-the-hog lifestyle for Gene and the first of his five wives, Kathryn.  A mansion, expensive cars, the latest fashions and partying until dawn in New York’s most exclusive nightspots – no one lived larger in the Roaring Twenties than the Lone Star crooner.

Gene came close to not seeing the Thirties.  Noticing how much Kathryn enjoyed sailing on a stockbroker’s yacht, he bought an even bigger luxury craft and paid the $75,000 asking price in cash.

On the maiden voyage of “My Blue Heaven” – what else? – down the Atlantic coast, the captain suddenly changed course for open water to dodge a dangerous storm.  Gene waited for the weather to clear by drinking himself into a stupor, while Kathryn wept hysterically.

When the ship’s radio came back on, the first words heard on-board “My Blue Heaven” were: “Those were three more songs introduced and made famous by Gene Austin.  Once again, we repeat, the Coast Guard has abandoned the search for the famous crooner’s boat and all the hands must be presumed to be drowned.”

Reports of Gene’s death were, as Mark Twain once wrote, greatly exaggerated but the drastic decline of his career during the depression was real and painful.  Though not compelled to stand in line for food, times were tough on his bank account as well as his ego.

A 1957 television special about his ups and downs gave the aging performer a second chance.  Gene Austin took full advantage of the swan-song opportunity by making personal appearances wherever his fans, new and old, would pay to see and hear him and by writing the last of his hundred songs with cancer knocking on the door.

Bartee welcomes your comments and questions at haile@pdq.net or P.O. Box 152, Friendswood, TX 77549 and invites you to visit his web site at barteehaile.com.