Writhing with building pain, his countenance and determination changed in a heartbeat. The fingers on his trembling left hand tightened, forming a fist. And in one motion he lashed out with bold aggressiveness for the first time in his picked-on life. He connected with the face of the bully. In one fell swoop, George McFly spun around Biff Tannen and laid him out with a solid left cross to the chops. Like all other onlookers at the drive-in theater that night, we hooted, hollered and laid on the horn. It was a glorious moment. As Biff laid passed out on the concrete, George confidently and triumphantly walked away with Loraine Baines latched to his arm, back inside to the Enchantment Under the Sea dance.
It was the summer of 1985. My buddies and I joined millions
around the country by watching the movie “Back to the Future,” the first of a three-part
trilogy. At the five-minute mark of the opening scene, Marty McFly finds out he’s late for school and
hops on his skateboard to the first notes of the jamming, newly released
song “Power of Love,” by Huey Lewis and the News. Two minutes later, Marty
and his band, The Pinheads, are on stage at a tryout in front of several
teachers. Their song is an amped-up version of “Power of Love.” What pushes the
scene over the top is a stoic-faced Huey Lewis, wearing a brown plaid jacket
and serving as one of the judges, sits thoroughly unimpressed. He glances at
his colleagues on either side, picks up a megaphone and says to the band, “Hold
it fellas! I’m afraid you’re just too darn loud. Next please.”
The power of love is a curious thing
Change a hawk to a little white dove
More than a feeling that's the power of love
Tougher than diamonds, rich like cream
Stronger and harder than a bad girl's dream
Make a bad one good make a wrong one right
Power of love that keeps you home at night
---
You don't need money, don't take fame
Don't need no credit card to ride this train
It's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes
But it might just save your life
That's the power of love
That's the power of love
---
First time you feel it, it might make you sad
Next time you feel it it might make you mad
But you'll be glad baby when you've found
That's the power makes the world go'round
---
And it don't take money, don't take fame
Don't need no credit card to ride this train
It's strong and it's sudden it can be cruel sometimes
But it might just save your life
---
They say that all in love is fair
Yeah, but you don't care
But you'll know what to do
When it gets hold of you
And with a little help from above
You feel the power of love
You feel the power of love
Can you feel it?
Hmmm
---
It don't take money and it don't take fame
Don't need no credit card to ride this train
Tougher than diamonds and stronger than steel
You won't feel nothin' till you feel
You feel the power, just feel the power of love
That's the power, that's the power of love
You feel the power of love
You feel the power of love
Feel the power of love
“The Power of Love” skyrocketed to the top of the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 chart, becoming a number-one hit for Huey Lewis and the News. It was also nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Song, losing out (somehow) to “Say You, Say Me” by Lionel Richie. And the video is pretty sweet too, although I’ve got to admit my favorite Huey song and video is "Do You Believe in Love."
 |
| Photo credit: Chrysalis |
Fast forward to more than two decades later. I began working
as an anchor/reporter for CBS affiliate KPAX-TV in Missoula, Montana, in
January 2003. Working in television over a 24-year career gave me the
opportunity to meet many people I most surely never would have had the chance
to meet otherwise. From Wilt Chamberlain, George Brett and Derrick Thomas to Barak Obama and Russ
Limbaugh, it was quite a run. Little did I know that I would not only
eventually meet Huey Lewis and even be invited to his house but that he
would later fulfill my personal heartfelt request to drive the greater part of an hour to
the TV studio to help a struggling coworker .
A long-time public access dispute gurgled to a head
surrounding a 16-mile stretch of water through the Bitterroot Valley called the
Mitchell Slough. Was it a private ditch or was it a natural waterway subject to public
access for fishing, hunting and other recreational activity? That was the
question. The Bitterroot Conservation District ruled it was a ditch. A local
court agreed – twice. The issue got pushed to the Montana Supreme Court that
turned the tables with a ruling that it was a natural waterway subject to public access.
That put sportsmen and the state at odds
with farmers and other landowners. One of those landowners was Huey Lewis, who
has property split in two by the slough.
As the newsroom staffer who focused on issues related to the
outdoors, natural resources and the environment, I started digging into the details of the case. There
were just so many tentacles to it that I started making calls and conducting
interviews with those on all sides. As a result, I produced a two-part series
called Behind the Barb Wire that highlighted the impact of the court’s decision on farmers,
sportsmen and women, and landowners. It you watch it (by clicking on the
previous link), you’ll see at the very end of the second report that I
referenced a chat I had with Huey Lewis. What I didn’t spell out, because it
wasn’t pertinent to the overall story, were the details of our interaction. But
it was pretty darn cool.
After working a bit to track down his phone number, I called
Huey. He was cordial and said he did not want to go on camera. Instead, he
invited me to drive to his home to talk about the issue in person. Even though
I had driven down the road where he lives a number of times previously to visit
friends in the same area, I had never noticed his home back off the road among some trees. It was a nice house. Actually a beautiful large house, but not a
monstrous mansion like some may expect. After pulling up, he invited me in and
we sat and talked in his kitchen. If I remember correctly, Huey had previously lived
somewhere in and around San Francisco but also had this home, which he made his
full-time residence a number of years earlier. Then he suggested we go outside
and check out the slough, first-hand.
Once out front, he walked toward a four-wheeler and said,
“Okay, act like my girlfriend. Hop on the back and I’ll drive you around.”
So there I was, straddling the same seat and riding across
some 350 acres with the guy who belted out, “That’s the Power of Love!” from my
early 20s. Kind of surreal but downright cool. He drove me over to different
sections of the slough and showed me work he carried out to both restore structure and remove silt
from the waterway. He spoke about stream restoration, fish habitat, collaborating
with farmers and fellow landowners, allowing friends to hunt his property and
doing what was best for the resource.
I don’t recall how long I spent with Huey -it had to be at least an hour or 90 minutes- but I do recall
walking off the property thinking, “This is a guy who cares about the land and
cares about fish and wildlife.”
Even though the legal case had been decided, the
repercussions continued to percolate and Mitchell Slough remained a dicey
topic. I had also interviewed locals who continued to speak out against the
landowners. I got word about a gathering at a private business not even a mile
from Huey’s property to talk more about it in a press conference setting. Since it was so close to his place, I
reached out to Huey to ask him what he knew about it. He’d not heard a thing. I
showed up with my camera gear along with a reporter from the local newspaper. The
proponents were seated behind a table at the front of the room. As we got
closer to the time the meeting was to begin, the room began to fill with more
than a dozen men and women wearing flannel, overalls, work boots, jeans and
caps. These were the landowners who got word about the meeting and wanted their
side of the story to be heard as well.
As I stood there pulling out my tripod, setting up my camera
and getting prepared with a pen and notepad in hand, I did so with my back to
the commotion behind me. Then I felt a strong poke in the back. I turned around
and yep, there was Huey with a wiry smile on his face. He then stepped back
into the throng of fellow landowners.
The proponents were surprised by the turnout of those on the
other side of the issue but pressed forward talking about their arguments. Each
time they made a point, landowners countered. All in all, it was quite
informational and entertaining, especially for a press conference. At one point, one of the
landowners said something like, “Look, we’re just regular Montanans. We are
working the land and scraping by to make a living. None of us are rich.”
“I’m rich,” a voice chuckled from the back of the room. It
was Huey. Having said that, it was him and very few other landowners who had
pockets deep enough to pay for the annual dredging (as mentioned in my two-part news series)
that brought water to the Mitchell Slough. Anyway, his comment made me chuckle
inside.
After the gathering ended, I was in the parking lot and Huey
came over to chat. We talked about what had been said and how it went over with
proponents and landowners alike. Then I had a thought in mind so I blurted it
out: “Would you be open to letting me bring a camera to one of your concerts,
have full access to you and your bandmates and tell the story of what amounts
to a small business man whose been successful at his business for decades now?”
“Why would I want to do that?” he responded.
“You don’t have to. But it would be a cool story to tell,
especially when so many people here in western Montana basically know you as
the ‘rich’ guy involved in a public access dispute,” I countered.
“I’d have to think about it,” he said.
"Okay, let me know what you think," I said.
Then I packed up my things and we both left.
I don’t remember how long it was –perhaps later that same
week or a couple of weeks later –that I received a phone call. It was Huey. “I
thought about it. Let’s do it. You can have full access. Pick a date and
location and let me know.”
BAM! Man, I was excited! I could see it now. I’d do a
two-part series that we could promote in the upcoming TV sweeps period. Part
one would focus on Huey, the businessman. Part two would be kind of a behind
the scenes look at this rock n roll legend with interviews with him, his fellow band
members, support staff, fans and others. I’d actually be up on stage
circulating among the band as they played live music. It was going to be epic and
we’d get a ton of eyes on this special report.
I looked over the schedule and found the perfect location.
Huey Lewis and the News had signed a deal to play a series of state fairs across
the country as part of their national tour. One stop was the
Eastern Idaho State Fair in Blackfoot, Idaho. It was only 330 miles away and a
mere 55 miles from Rexburg, where I could stay with my brother’s family. I also
asked my brother if he would tag along as my grip. He was in!
The week of the concert came and the newsroom was abuzz. With
plans in place, I was ready to go. Just two days before hitting the road, my general manager came
over from next door and said straight out, “Mark, you can’t go.” I asked why.
He just said “no” and that was that. No explanation – nothing. Needless to say,
I was pretty upset. My co-anchor was upset. The news director was upset. The
entire newsroom was upset. A terrific opportunity to headline the next ratings
period with a dynamite and easily promotable two-part special report about one
of America’s best-known musicians and his band was out the window.
Disappointment aside, I still heard from Huey periodically.
I got word about the dredging of the Mitchell Slough, took my
camera and got some video. Sure enough, the heavy machinery dug what amounted
to a ditch from the edge of the Bitterroot River more than a quarter mile to the mouth of the
slough, which allowed water to reach the headgates.
Then Michael Jackson unexpected passed away in 2009. As the shocked
entertainment world speculated at what happened and reacted, we had a direct
pipeline to someone who performed with him. Huey was part of the massive
blockbuster of a fundraising video "We Are the World" (go to
2:48 mark) years earlier, organized, in part, by Michael Jackson. I gave Huey a call and did a
brief phone interview about him that we broadcast on the news that night. Huey
expressed sadness and admiration for both the person and performer Jackson was.
In the late summer of 2010, I received a small package in
the mail at work. I opened it up and it was a CD. Not only was it a CD, but it
was a prerelease promotional copy of Soulsville, the first album released by Huey Lewis and the
News in almost a decade. It was cool to get a copy of
new music before it went public. I gave him a quick buzz and expressed thanks.
About this same time, my co-anchor Jill was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was a trying time for her and the entire newsroom. She slogged through radiation treatments, lost her hair and dealt with health challenges and other issues. What could I do? How could I cheer her up? Then it dawned on me – ask Huey if he could swing by for a surprise visit. I gave him a call and we set up a date when he was home on break from touring.
I was pretty excited when the day came. I couldn’t wait to
see her face after learning Huey was coming just to see her. Unfortunately,
when Huey checked in at the office next door, the receptionist called Jill to
tell him he was there. Jill flew out the door without me even knowing it. Oh
well, the surprise was gone but that really didn’t matter. I went next door
and, with Jill, brought him back to the newsroom. That’s when I informed Jill
that Huey was here just to meet and spend some time with her.
"What? Me?
"Yes Jill, Huey's here to see you!"
She was flabbergasted.
The rest of the newsroom was more than surprised when we walked in because I hadn’t told
anyone. Huey spent the next two to three hours talking to Jill and the rest of
us. He shared tales of life on the road, posed for photos and just plain made
us all laugh and laugh. We were about an hour away from the start of our early
newscast when he announced he had to leave. As he did, Huey walked up to
Jill, leaned in and kissed her right on the lips, said goodbye to all of us and
walked out the door. Jill was speechless and giddy. It was so, so great!
To this day, I feel indebted to Huey. Other than saying “thank you," how could I express enough gratitude for what he did to help lift Jill’s spirits? Now, I know that Huey loves flyfishing. I had a Bitterroot River flyfishing trip, guided by a friend of mine, gifted to me. I thought, “This is it – the perfect payback opportunity.” The fishing outing already had a preset date. I gave Huey a call but unfortunately, he did not get home from on tour until the night of my fishing trip. Dang it!
Maybe I’ll never get the chance to pay him back. I do drop
him a text or email every year on his birthday to wish him well. And every year
he responds with a “thank you” text or email in return.
Fast forward to just this past summer. My wife was out with
a friend at a gym and guess who was there? Yep, it was Huey. Lori couldn’t wait
to call me and tell me about it. She posted about it as well.
So, thank you Huey Lewis. Thanks for your music. Thanks for sharing your talent and abilities. And thank you for your kind unselfishness. THAT’S THE POWER OF LOVE!
