Honky Tonk Angel (58 page)

Charlie told the
Star
he had no desire to own any part of the plane: “It’s just two pieces of tin. We have things of Patsy’s ... mementos we will cherish and keep forever.”

In 2005, when Kathy Hughes visited the site, one of the brothers brought the tail section to display. Another brought the mangled propeller.

There have been efforts to honor Patsy as befits a star of her legendary status. At the forefront was Harold “Doc” Madigan, owner of Gaunt’s Drug Store, who long ago restored the fountain and counter from which Virginia Hensley used to dispense ice cream and soda, though now it’s used solely as a tourist attraction.

Charlie, daughter Julie, and Dick’s brother Mel organized the Always Patsy Cline fan club.

There was a campaign for a sign to denote Winchester as Patsy’s hometown. In 1986 the Frederick County Board of Supervisors endorsed having a street named after her. Mrs. Hensley was ambivalent about the honor. “I have kept quiet. I thought my absence in these things would convey my feelings.... It’s a very nice gesture, but I think it’s way too late.... If they wanted to do something in her memory—let’s face it, they can’t do anything for Patsy now.”

The street naming never occurred. A year later, however, the developer of a new mall named an entrance road Patsy Cline Boulevard.

Since 1987 fans from around the globe gather in Winchester over Labor Day weekend to celebrate Patsy and the anniversary of her birth with a fan club—spon-sored Saturday picnic and Sunday graveside service.

Helped by donations from family, fans, and the owner of the cemetery, a fifty-five-foot, $35,000 bell tower was dedicated that year. That same day the Virginia State Department of Transportation placed two markers on U.S. 522 South, designating the area between Winchester and Double Tollgate as Patsy Cline Memorial Highway.

In the beginning, Mrs. Hensley shied away from events; but later she began a music scholarship fundraiser banquet and was always present to meet Patsy’s fans. She told the
Star
, “I realized how much people really love my daughter. Some had ridden the bus from Canada. I feel I’d be letting my daughter’s fans down if I didn’t help.”

The Chamber of Commerce established a committee in March 1993—the thirtieth anniversary of Patsy’s death—to create a museum. That entity became Celebrating
Patsy Cline, Inc. (CPC). Museum plans have been afoot for some time but the project has consistently failed to get off the ground, to the chagrin of many fans.

After the 1998 fundraiser, Sylvia told several fans how difficult it was for her to listen to Patsy’s final recordings, such as “Sweet Dreams (of You)” and “Faded Love,” because of the hurt she heard in Patsy’s voice. Even at that time, with little love lost on Charlie, Sylvia was still telling friends and fans that Patsy had planned to divorce Charlie.

That day CPC unveiled a model for the Patsy Cline Museum—a $4 million “Hollywood/Vegas—style monstrosity,” as a fan put it. The exterior would feature a sixty-foot-high neon Patsy that winked. Sylvia, none too happy, was overheard complaining, “Four million dollars would pay for a lot of scholarships.” The design was set aside.

A fan who attended several weekends said Charlie made appearances on Friday night, then hosted a small coterie of fans at his ground-floor hotel suite, “where everyone would hover over him and hang on every word. They worship him like he’s a god from Nashville.”

Charlie’s suite has been dubbed “the party room” because it’s BYOB with the bathtub filled with beer. Fans often spill into the courtyard, causing complaints about the noise. The party ends when Charlie goes to bed.

Appraised another fan, “I came to notice how odd it was that Patsy seemed absent from these events. Once, someone put on a Patsy CD. Charlie, in a bit of a stupor, hollered ‘Turn that shit off!’”

Former fan club member Mark Willix sent Julie a 2003 e-mail inquiring how dues were spent. “She made it public,” he decried, “and on Memorial weekend people were pointing and whispering behind my back. Charlie spotted me in the party room, came over, put his arm around me, and grumbled, ‘If you ever say anything about Patsy or my life with her again, I’ll knock the shit out of you.’”

Charlie would be at the picnic and grave service, but it was rare to see any interaction between him, Mrs. Hensley, and Sylvia. He’s been notably absent from the scholarship banquets.

Julie, with current husband Richard Fudge and their four children, rode in a vintage convertible in the 1993 Apple Blossom Festival parade; but, except for 2003, she never attended the fan club events because of family and business obligations.

Jim Gibbons of Canada met Hilda Hensley at her first fundraiser, a meeting that blossomed into a deep friendship. “Hilda was a humble woman, living only on a pension, rent from the house across the street, and money she made as a seamstress.”

On their last visit, Mrs. Hensley fixed supper and they watched footage of Patsy that had been transferred to video. “Watching Mom H watching Patsy sing, you could see the love in her eyes, the memories flashing through her mind.” He was on an elite list of those to enjoy a sleepover at Mrs. Hensley’s “with Patsy’s outfits, costumes, and numerous personal items just a few feet away. More than anything, Hilda wanted a museum to honor Patsy. A reason she never sold the house across the street was because she hoped it would be it.”

When the city seemed ready to assist in making that hope a reality by changing zoning laws, etc., Mrs. Hensley suddenly wasn’t interested in working with them.

“Hilda’s idea of a museum,” explained Gibbons, “was a place for fans to see Patsy’s memorabilia and costumes, which would be a source of income for her, Sibby,
and Sam. With the city taking it on, income would go toward operating expenses and tourism.”

Mrs. Hensley was excited about the prospect of a movie being made about her daughter and cooperated with the producers. However, she didn’t want to meet the stars of
Sweet Dreams
, namely Jessica Lange, who played Patsy, and Ann Wedge-worth, who played her role.

Charlie wasn’t the only one disappointed with the film. Mrs. Hensley said, “Jessica [Lange] did a wonderful job with what she had to work with [a performance that won her an Academy Award nomination]. We were told they were going to make a beautiful love story.... I saw it one time. That was enough.”

At a 1985 family reunion, Dave Hess, son of Hilda’s lifelong friend Maud, recalled Hilda going further. “She stamped her cane down and protested, ‘Why couldn’t they just tell the truth? They made Patsy out to be a cigarette-smoking, barhopping, beer-drinking slut.’”

Hilda Hensley died December 10, 1998, at age eighty-two.

“After a steady weight loss of about four months,” Sylvia wrote friends, “[Mother] contracted the flu.” Reluctantly, on December 7, Mrs. Hensley was admitted to Winchester Medical Center. The diagnosis was cancer, advanced and widespread. “We were in shock,” lamented Sylvia, “but never dreamed how quickly things would progress.”

Three days later, her mother, whom Sylvia called “the most decent human being I’ve ever known,” closed her eyes “and gently drifted away ... into a world free of pain, infirmity, or hardship.”

Randy remained as silent as ever, but Julie wrote fans: “Grandmother was a very simple person who would always say, ‘Don’t do a lot for me.’” She was also quoted in the
Star
: “She was always busy cooking and caring for Randy and me. You could not make her slow down.” Earlier, she noted, “When I came to visit, I did not come to visit Mrs. Hensley, I did not come to visit Patsy Cline’s mother, I visited my Granny.”

In Mrs. Hensley’s
Star
obituary, there’s no mention of another marriage. In the absence of court records it’s impossible to know if she ever wed again, but reliable sources assert that she did and that the marriage was brief, ending not in divorce but annulment. If a marriage existed at her time of death, Hilda would have been ineligible for burial in Winchester National Cemetery as a veteran’s wife; thus, the annulment. Some claim that she never divorced Sam.

Responding to condolence cards, Sylvia remembered her mother as “the greatest gift God ever loaned us” who “treated everyone the same—with simple respect, with quiet dignity and on occasion, a bit of motherly advice, reprimand, or down-to-earth homespun philosophy.”

She described their last moments: “As I held her hand, I did not want to let her go but realized she no longer needed, or wanted, to stay. I thanked God for allowing it to be easy and peaceful; and for allowing us the solace of knowing she was not alone, or afraid ... Knowing the impact she had on so many varied lives has made this hardest of life’s losses a little more bearable.... Seeing how much of the intangible she gave to others, when she had so little herself ... confirms the enormous faith, heart, and generosity which personified her life.”

What wasn’t acknowledged was what Hilda Hensley had wished for forty-five years. She was being reunited with her daughter Virginia, known to us forevermore as Patsy Cline.

In due time, it would be revealed that Hilda had been keeping a secret and, very early on, had allegedly led a secret life.

Mrs. Hensley didn’t live to see her children feud over her estate and auction off the assets she prized and cared for: Patsy’s colorful western costumes and clothing.

Through the years, with families of their own, Sylvia (Wilt, now divorced) and Sam didn’t seek the spotlight. In fact, Sam showed no interest in the events related to Patsy. “He came once, incognito, to the scholarship banquet,” noted a former CPC board member, “when coerced by Mrs. Hensley, but didn’t stay long. He never offered to help raise money.”

An intimate of Mrs. Hensley observed, “Sam was a mystery. He had issues. He resented never being able to pursue an acting or singing career. Patsy adored both siblings, but she encouraged his dreams of a show business career and helped him financially”

Patsy noted in her January 1953 letter to Flynt that Sam had passed his army physical and was about to be called to duty, “but his recklessness in driving and the records showing he won’t listen to anyone” had the army thinking he was a “nonconformist.... [I’ve] talked to him until I’m blue in the face [and] thought [for] sure the army would straighten him out.”

A family relation judged that heavy drinking and abusive behavior was responsible for Sam’s divorce. “He wasn’t a happy man,” she related. “He could be brusque, and Hilda was sometimes sick over his behavior, which once, to Sam’s great displeasure, caused her to compare him to his father.”

Mrs. Hensley’s one-page handwritten will, dated March 26, 1988, and filed with the circuit court eight days following her death, bequeathed “all my furniture, clothes, real estate, and assets to my children . . . to share equally in all things ... in friendship together.... They have only each other now. Please keep the family ties. I would like some of Patsy’s pictures [to] be given Randy & Julie.”

She further stated that her wishes were to be carried out after any bills she owed were paid. After her signature, she had the document signed by a witness.