Rex Allen

Rex Allen

(1920 - 1999)

(by Michelle Sundin, January 2007)

When Elizabeth and Calin said they wanted to include bios and recollections of people who had worked with the Pioneers or had personally known Bob Nolan, they included Rex Allen. Rex knew Bob from his Hollywood days, having also worked at Republic studios. In the early 1950’s, the Pioneers appeared on Rex’s radio program and made some transcription recordings for the US Navy.

Rex had great respect for Bob because of his music and told me in 1991 that he thought Bob was very underrated as an actor as well a songwriter. When Nolan died, Rex held a tribute at his ranch which included the Sons of the Pioneers, Stuart Hamblen, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, and many, many others who knew and worked with him in the movie and recording industry.

Rex Allen - was a true Westerner, coming from southeastern Arizona not far from where Stan Jones was born and raised. Rex lost a brother to snakebite and his mother died when he was quite young. His dad, a cattleman, moved the family to Willcox. Rex had vision problems as boy and the town raised money to have his eyes operated on. He bought a cheap guitar and used to sing in Willcox to make a few nickels. He also played fiddle and sang at local dances. He was encouraged by everyone who heard him to try out for popular radio programs and barely missed being hired for a show in the East - he lost out to a Tennessee boy named Eddy Arnold. But, as a result, he went to Chicago and was hired by radio station WLS for their “Barn Dance”. Then he was ‘discovered’ and hired by Herbert Yates to make singing cowboy movies in Hollywood. He filmed 19 of them.

He recorded a number of popular and country/western hit songs including the original “Crying in the Chapel”, “Streets of Laredo” and “Don’t Go Near the Indians”. When he completed a recording session with the legendary Victor Young, the entire orchestra stood and applauded. Rex’s amazing voice and vocal range, his lack of ego, and his ability to do a song in one ‘take’ had impressed them as few singers ever did.

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

Rex also had a short-lived TV series, “Frontier Doctor”, where he played the title (and non-singing) role. He also starred in the non-western, “Swamp Country”, as a modern-day sheriff. He remembered this series mainly because of the heat, humidity and bugs on location in the Deep South. He was happier with the Stephen Foster musical, “I Dream of Jeannie”, appearing as a minstrel singer in blackface makeup. In the 1991 interview, he laughed when he recalled going home in the dark make-up one evening, knocking on the door hat in hand and talking in character, when one of his sons answered. And his son saying over his shoulder, “Mom, it’s just dad” and wandering off.

Frontier Doctor, 1958-59

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

Rex and family

Courtesy of Josie Shapira

He provided the narration for the original “Charlotte’s Web” and was the voice for hundreds of commercials on TV and radio.

For us Baby Boomers, his rich, truly Western voice was an important part of the dozens of Disney nature films he narrated in the 50’s and 60’s. In the early 1990’s he hosted a popular country music television show, “Church Street Station”, and continued to do commercials, usually using a sound studio in Tucson.

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

He was well-known for his humanitarian work and lent his name and support to worthy causes all over the southwest. The annual Rex Allen Days in his hometown of Willcox, Arizona, helped raise funds to build a hospital and fund various community projects. He appeared at that celebration for nearly 50 years and also helped establish a museum there dedicated not only to his career but to the working cowboys of the state. He told me he felt their contributions would last far longer than anything he had ever done and they deserved to have the recognition. But he was always, always proud that he was born and raised a cowboy He accepted and marveled over the fact that he would forever be known as one of the best-known spokesmen for the West.

When Rex talked about his “B” Western days at Republic, he was always self-deprecating but proud to have done them. He was of the opinion that his first film, “Arizona Cowboy”, should have been burned, along with any and all copies.

With the second, he was more at ease and it showed in his acting. By then he had purchased Koko and the combination of the beautiful stallion, simple scripts, and good music, made it all work.

Under Mexicali Stars, 1950

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

Rex told me he either wrote or arranged many of his movie songs, most notably the title song for that first film (also known as “Too Lee Roll Um”, which was used as the theme for a number of his other “B’s”). He soon became, and forever remained, “The Arizona Cowboy”.

Acting in ‘B’ Westerns at Republic didn’t make much money, especially when compared to what is earned today, he recalled, and he had to go on the road and perform at concerts to make a comfortable living for his family.

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

What he considered priceless was the friendship of folks met as a result of his Hollywood days. John Wayne, Clark Gable, Roy and Dale, Ben Johnson, Slim Pickens, Buddy Ebsen, Bob Nolan and the Sons of the Pioneers, Ronald Reagan, songwriter Stan Jones, rodeo cowboy Casey Tibbs, and hundreds of others, remained friends long after he left the movie business. Warm and generous, once you had his friendship, he could be counted upon whenever help was needed.

Rex with Christian Rudolph Ebsen Jr. aka "Buddy" Ebsen

Rex with Louis Bert Lindley Jr. aka "Slim Pickens"

Of those he worked with, he considered William Witney quite a taskmaster but one of the finest directors in Hollywood, especially given the scripts and miserly budgets he was forced to work with. As far as the leading ladies – he enjoyed working with them all and, ever the gentleman, he wouldn’t say which was his favorite. Like Roy Rogers, he joked about never getting the girl but he could always kiss his horse. Besides, the kids who came to watch the films weren’t interested in the smooching and hand holding and, as he joked during a Nashville Network TV interview, he wasn’t very good at it anyway.

Rodeo King and the Senorita, 1951

Down Laredo Way, 1953

Courtesy of Ed Phillips

For the Love of Mike, 1960

Courtesy of Ed Phillips

Lobby cards courtesy of Ed Phillips

Redwood Forest Trail, 1950

South Pacific Trail, 1952

Thunder in God's Country, 1951

He “dearly loved” Koko and Koko Jr. Both were remarkably calm, gentle, and intelligent. He told me there were three or four horses on the set who were ‘doubles’ for Koko because he couldn’t run him all day, regardless of what the movies showed. One time, he said, the horse that doubled Koko in a running scene sweated so much that the vegetable dye they used ran down onto his white legs and got all over Rex’s costume. They had to cancel the rest of the shoot that day. Another Koko anecdote - he was a stud and such a fast runner that Rex sometimes had to rein him in during chase scenes so he wouldn’t catch up to the villain’s horses before it was called for in the script. He said it sometimes took all his strength to hold him back and shoot at the same time.

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

Rex insisted that he did almost all his own riding and stunts except for some of the more difficult falls and jumps which the studio forbid him to do.

The more active fight scenes were left to stuntman Joe Yrigoyen who doubled Roy and Gene and many other of Republic’s leading cowboys. An anecdote he shared about the fights - they were worked out punch by punch with the director, soundman, stuntmen and actor, and were filmed once all the principal shooting and close-ups had been shot, just in case a punch was actually landed or he was sick and couldn’t be there for filming. One time Rex missed a cue and a stuntman’s fist connected, knocking him out. Upon waking, he sported a large bruise and swollen face. What shots were left were done from his ‘good side’ or over the shoulder. “I learned the importance of ducking that day,” he quipped.

Location shooting wasn’t on his list of favorite things but usually lasted only a few days so he could get home to his wife and young children. The interiors and street scenes were usually shot on the Republic lot in Studio City while some of the southern California ‘movie ranches’ were used to film chases and running gun battles. Occasionally, scenes involving a lake view or woods were done at Big Bear Lake or Lake Tahoe. And for one of those memorable time-crossing-cowboy-on-a-horse vs. modern-technology-movies, a helicopter chase was shot in the Alabama Hills near Lone Pine. When I showed him the studio-still I had of his hanging from one of the ‘helicopter’s skids, he laughingly said – “Gawd, wasn’t I good! I shot that thing down. Not bad for a gun full of blanks!”

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

One vivid memory was a genuine brush with death during an underwater fight scene. A number of ‘takes’ were required in a deep tank of unheated water on the Republic lot. As the filming wore on, Rex wore out and finally, after swallowing what he felt was half the contents of the tank, he couldn’t swim anymore and started sinking. He would have drowned if someone hadn’t dived in and helped him to the surface – “I slept pretty good that night!”

When Roy Rogers did “Trail of Robin Hood”, Rex was on a promotional tour but flew to California and stayed two days to shoot his scenes and then flew back East to resume his tour. Their friendship made it an easy task – “I just had to ride in on Koko, drive a wagon, and help save the Christmas trees for the kids. Then drive to the airport and fly back East to finish the tour.”

He figured he and Koko traveled over a million miles appearing for movie openings, concerts, parades, hospital visits, and rodeos. Like Roy and Gene, there was a special spot in his heart for kids and, wherever he appeared, thousands were there to see and hear him. Admittedly, hospital visits were sometimes very hard to make because he would think of his own children. “I used to thank God they were healthy and able to do what many of those in the hospital couldn’t and never would.” Even 40 years later he would tear-up when he talked about some of the children he met.

Like Roy and Gene, he was genuine, he was interested in what you had to say and appreciated every autograph, photo, and the gifts he would receive. He loved his home state enough to retire to a small ranch southeast of Tucson where he had a couple dogs and an old longhorn steer named Sancho. Everyone knew him in the area and each would get a smile, a hello, sometimes an autograph or photo and, like more than one person said, if you didn’t know the face, you sure knew the voice.

Rex’s Sonoita ranch house had bookshelves filled with many photos of his family and friends. One whole shelf was crammed with various colored cowboy boots given him by a boot company he did commercials for. Another held a large supply of creamy white (what else!) cowboy hats with his name inside. The style was named for him and was a best seller for many years.

He would sometimes give them to friends or fans - the supply seemed endless. He still had several of the suits Nudie the Hollywood Tailor made for him over the years and he wore on special occasions - he called them his ‘idiot suits.’

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

He was very proud of a bronze statue of a cowboy, sculpted by his friend and co-star Slim Pickens and given to him. He also showed me a fiddle both he and his dad had played, and a huge dining table crafted by actor and carpenter George Montgomery. He didn’t say much about the countless awards given for his humanitarian work. He said he didn’t do it to get recognition.

Rex wasn’t one to live in the past. He kept busy answering fan mail, making commercials or guest appearances for benefits, and was one of the founders of the Western Music Association. Shortly before his death, he recorded an album of songs with Western singer, Don Edwards, a man he greatly admired.

Even as his health failed and he was forced to sell his beloved ranch and move closer to health facilities, the deep and warm laugh and twinkle in his eye were usually justa phone call and welcomed visit away. I know. I saw him two weeks before he passed and had a wonderful chat and invitation to come back soon.

Rex with Roy Warhurst (left, just off camera), Rusty Richards Roy Rogers and Dale Evans

Left to right: Karl E. Farr, Pat Farr, Rex and Bill Wiley (front), 1992, at a Western Music Association Festival.

Monte Hale, Eddie Dean and Rex Allen, 1992 at the Gene Autry Museum, Tribute to the Singing Cowboy.
Each man signed a cement block which was then installed at the museum. Patsy Montana and Herb Jeffries were also there.

Through the years, Rex Allen accomplished many things but, to him, his most important legacy was his family. With very little prodding, he always could be counted upon to tell a grandkid’s story or talk with genuine pride about what his children had done and how they all were making contributions to society and were not taking drugs or getting into trouble with the law.

He told a story about a visit with Rex Jr in Nashville when one of the younger grandkids came up to him and said, “Grandpa, you sure have a nice voice – for a cowboy." That brought one of those from-the-toes laughs that rocked the house. With a great deal of pride, he used to say, “Those kids are the future and I hope they will always be as blessed as I have been.”

Back in the early 90’s, Rex told me that two of the things he still wanted out of life were to see the new century arrive and watch his grandchildren grow up. He saw their future as being filled with wonders he couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Filming a commercial for a local Tucson TV ad, 1991

He would have been 79 on New Year’s Eve 1999. But on December 17, Rex Allen joined Roy and Gene and all those legendary and larger-than-life heroes who rode across the screen and made our lives a little brighter.

As he wanted, his ashes were scattered in a little park across the street from the museum that bears his name and close to some of the places he used to take his mail-order guitar and sing to earn nickels. Koko is buried there, also, in the shadow of a larger-than-life bronze of Rex, who himself was larger than life. Inside that statue is a bronze heart, complete with aortas. He wanted to ensure that his heart would always be in Arizona.

Bronze by Buck McCain, across from the Rex Allen Arizona Cowboy Museum, Willcox, Arizona

Rex at the dedication of the statue in Willcox, Arizona

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

Rex Allen – the Last of the Silver Screen Cowboys, the Voice of the West, the Arizona Cowboy.

Yodeling Songs

Nothin' to Do

Jawbreaker

Tribute

Tribute to John Wayne

Books

"The Arizona Cowboy, Rex Allen: My Life, Sunrise to Sunset" as told to Paula Simpson Witt and Snuff Garrett

"Rex Allen, the Arizona Cowboy" by Carman and Scaparotti

Art

Painting by Rex Allen, 1957

Courtesy Michelle Sundin

Comics

No. 5

1952 No. 6

1953 No. 7

1953 No. 9

1954 No. 13

1954 No. 14

1955 No. 15

1955 No. 16

1955 No. 17

1955 No. 18

1956 No. 22

1958 No. 27

Recordings

Record scans courtesy of Michelle Sundin

Sheet Music

Courtesy of Michelle Sundin

Courtesy of Dick Goodman

Letter from Richard Goodman, September 24, 2007 ~

These were taken at the annual "Arizona Music & Entertainment Hall of Fame " Induction Awards last night at the Dodge Theatre in downtown Phoenix. I was asked to be the Presenter of the Rex Allen Award, and his son, Country/Western star, Rex Jr, received it on behalf of his dad. For those of you who don't know, I was privileged to be able to work with Rex Allen, Sr for almost 20 years from the mid '70s into the early '90s, and we became very good friends through that time. Rex was just like family to Dixie and me and we miss him dearly.

Dick Goodman making the presentation.

Rex Jr and his twin sons, Cody and Logan, and niece, Amy as he's making the acceptance speech on behalf of the family.

Rex Jr and the boys singing his own composition and our state song, "Arizona."