Stuart Dill

I was the youngest of four kids that grew up in South Alabama – the son of a United Methodist preacher. Our family was pro-civil rights, growing up in the shadows of George C. Wallace in small map-dot towns like East Tallassee, Brewton and Troy. At the age of 10, my father landed the plum church in Alabama West-Florida Methodism and we all settled in Mobile. To my teenage delight, show business came to Mobile twice a year. There were two nationally televised events staged annually - The Senior Bowl Football Game and America’s Junior Miss Pageant. In the early seventies, I saw celebrities walk among the mere mortals in our town. The two I never forgot, Tom Landry, head coach of the Dallas Cowboys, wearing a suit and his signature plaid hat while watching a scrimmage on our high school football field. And Michael Landon, as he walked through rehearsal, camera blocking, at our local municipal auditorium. Having Hollywood visit me twice a year as a kid in South Alabama was how I got bitten by the showbiz bug. In the meantime, I wrote songs and wondered how you actually got out of Mobile and into the world of entertainment. College was a first step. Washington, D.C. attracted me because of the media more than the politics. And, early on I realized politics was just a colorful kind of show business. I was becoming fascinated with the art form of fame – as an observer not a participant. Washington, D.C. is not only an excellent place to serve – but an excellent place to observe. Immediately upon graduation I moved to Nashville. There were only three choices for me at the time - New York, Nashville or Los Angeles - one of the three entertainment capitals. My thought was, I’d swim faster in familiar waters – the southern surroundings seemed less encumbered. The question, however, was – swim faster to what? In 1985, I walked into the Jim Halsey Company because I saw a poster at Belmont University. The poster was high gloss and had publicity shots of almost ever famous country singer I knew. They were looking for free interns. In the reception area, a man named Bob Burwell came out and greeted me. Oddly, he was not from the south, but from Buffalo, N.Y. He asked a simple question, “Do you want to be an agent or a manager?” I didn’t know the difference. Noticing my hesitation, he said, “You want to be a manager!” And just like that I was appointed. Not unlike a southern Methodist preacher. With six emphatic words, Bob secured my fate in the music business for the next 25 years and beyond. Six months later, I met Freddy Fender the week he came out of rehab and he asked me to be his day-to-day manager. I immediately started traveling the world with a renowned artist twice my age . . . from there, the snapshots are endless: I watched Minnie Pearl work on jokes backstage at The Nashville Network; sat in the private teepee of William Lee Golden (Oak Ridge Boys); played some really bad golf with Michael Martin Murphy; took a phone call from Dwight Yoakam who was stuck in a hotel without enough money to pay for a cab to the airport. On my very first day in Hollywood I was introduced to Robert Redford. I sat on a conference room floor with Wynonna Judd while she watched videos; wondered why Lee Greenwood had a shower in his office; stood alone in a green room with Willie Nelson at Austin City Limits with nothing to say. I hitched a ride home with Dottie West from Missouri. I had a fairly normal conversation with Vince Gill while he wore women’s clothing (on a video set); I saw Ronnie Dunn (Brooks & Dunn) win a talent contest as an unknown singer; and one year got better seats than Coretta Scott King at the Grammy’s. I was in Dallas, TX when Selena was shot and was told there was a horrible rumor running rampant-that my client, Emilio, had killed her (he hadn’t). I flew on my first private jet with Jo Dee Messina. Watched tearfully as Freddy said goodbye to Minnie on her deathbed; and shook Bill Clinton’s hand the night he became President. Bob was right . . . I wanted to be a manager. As an artist manager for over 26 years in Nashville’s country-music scene, Stuart Dill has helped guide the careers of such esteemed talent as Jo Dee Messina, Laura Bell Bundy, Billy Ray Cyrus, The Wreckers (Michelle Branch and Jessica Harp), Point of Grace, Michael Martin Murphy, Freddy Fender, Dwight Yoakam and Minnie Pearl, among others. Dill is a longtime member of Leadership Music and is a member of the Academy of Country Music and the Country Music Association. He lives in Brentwood, Tennessee, with his wife and two children. Murder on Music Row is his first novel.