style="font-size:15px;"> To truly understand Leo, you must know that he challenged conventional thinking. Leo felt that conventional wisdom would get conventional results, and he demanded something much bigger. He knew exactly what he wanted and how to get there. One thing Leo knew for sure was that he was not following anyone else’s path in life. He would blaze his own trail. Very few people accomplish something iconic and change the world the way my Leo did.
This man had a deep confidence in who he was and was nothing short of a man on a mission. This story needs to be told because those who think they know about Leo typically only have heard that he was a certified workaholic. That was true, but he was more than that. He was also a man with a keen sense of purpose, and his intensity for work was so extreme it became comical. Sometimes, Leo’s work ethic even bordered on insanity. Like many of history’s great figures, Leo did not do his thing by falling into line. He had his own distinct style, and he always stayed true to it.
At home, he had a lighter side and a keen sense of humor. We laughed and laughed together. He absolutely loved to do things with our family. Even more than guitars, he was enthralled by our grandchildren, and he would cry when the time came for them to go home. Near the end of his life, he reconciled his Christian beliefs.
Leo walked to his own beat and had a hard time taking orders from anyone. In business, he was an executive with a screwdriver. Leo never wanted to impress anybody. He wanted people to enjoy his instruments. That was the source of his pride. Work was his real joy.
Keith Richards
Leo was a wonderful husband, and we were best friends. We loved to go on cruises, and we shared many adventures together. Our life was so different than everybody else’s. Opposites attract. Here is this quiet genius always thinking, and then there’s me, who just cannot stop talking. I am very outgoing, and I have many friends. I love to see people, and I am excited when they call me on the phone. If I told Leo, “We are going to have a party!” Leo would say, pretending to be annoyed, “Oh, no, not again!” The whole thing did not make sense to most people, but it made sense to us.
Over twenty years ago, because of a heart condition, a doctor told me that my heart was pumping at 17% of normal and that I only had three to six months to live. I wanted a second opinion, but the other doctor said the same thing. I did not believe either one of them, and today those two doctors are dead! My heart just keeps ticking because I need to finally tell the story of this man that I love so much!
Leo was not much of a talker, but I am! So here we go!
CHAPTER 2
The Early Years
Leo was not the type of man who dwelled on the past. Nor did he speak about his childhood, unless he was provoked. So, that is exactly what I did!
Over the years, I coaxed Leo countless times to tell me his stories, either over dinner or while on a cruise, and usually after some persistence he did talk. It was fun seeing him just being Leo, thinking and being quiet. I would ask him a question and watch as he reluctantly thought back. I prodded him for more, and then I would watch his face finally light up with a wonderful story. His stories would make us either laugh or cry, but mostly laugh! So, let’s start at the beginning.
Leo Fender was born in a barn, literally.
On the corner of Harbor Boulevard and La Palma Avenue, in an unincorporated area of Orange County that was then called Fullerton, stood the Lone Oak Farm. It was named the Lone Oak Farm because it was largely dirt and vegetable patches, except for one huge oak tree that stood near the center.
It was a simple farm, with long rows of carrots, celery, lettuce, potatoes, tomatoes, and lots of other vegetables and fruits. There were many other farms nearby, mainly orange groves and strawberry patches. A flatbed truck was parked near the farm’s only structure, a wooden barn which housed the tools and workbenches. It also housed a family—until they got around to buying more lumber and building a house.
The original Fender Radio Shop on Harbor Boulevard
Inside that barn, on August 10, 1909, Clarence Monte Fender and Harriet Elvira Wood became parents of a little boy, whom they named Clarence Leonidas Fender, or “Leo.” This couple needed Leo because there was a lot of work to do on the farm.
Little did Mr. and Mrs. Fender know that one day this boy would go on to win a Grammy Award, Academy of Country Music Awards, and a Cliffie Stone Pioneer Award. He would be the Grand Marshal at parades and would be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They had never heard of rock and roll. Nobody had—because it had not been invented yet. The world needed Leo to pave the way.
As the family grew with the addition of a sister, Wilda, the place became known as the Fender Farm. It fronted a street that would one day be named Harbor Boulevard. Just across the street, a guy named Karl Karcher would one day start his very first hamburger joint, and call it Carl’s Jr.
Just a short drive south on Harbor Boulevard, another guy would start the world’s first theme park. His name was Walt Disney. To top it off, just a few blocks to the north, in a little radio repair shop located at 107 N. Harbor Boulevard, Leo Fender would one day invent the world’s first modern electric guitar.
You will never find a street like Harbor Boulevard anywhere else in the world. If you want to do something great, I suggest you do it on Harbor Boulevard. There is something magical about that street!
Leo in front of his business
Harbor Boulevard was the place where Leo grew up and was taught a strong, strict work ethic. He was given chores to do from the moment he could walk. When he turned five, he was sent off to Orangethorpe Elementary School a few blocks to the north. He loved going to school because, the moment he got home, there were more chores. He had to hoe the ground into long furrows, plant the seeds, water the crops, pick and clean the vegetables, and carefully pack and load them onto the family’s flatbed truck.
Leo had a very strict father and mother. The German traits of the family taught him to be thrifty and hard working. Leo was taught that you really should not take too much pleasure in life. You should always be working.
It was a different age. There was no time for Little League baseball, skate boards, or lollygagging around. Leo only went to church a few times, and, when he heard that the treasurer had taken off with the congregation’s money, Leo announced that, if this is how Christians behaved, he did not want anything to do with it. Church was not for him. Leo turned his focus to his work.
Leo kept the fences in repair and did any other chore that came along. He winced when his Father often told him, “Leo, you are only as good as the work that you do!” Leo grew up in a family that was too busy to fuss over birthdays. Christmas was a meager affair. Imagine never having a birthday party. This was not the kind of love that every boy needed, but Leo had a home, and plenty of good, fresh farm food to eat.
When Leo was about seven or eight, tragedy struck. It was dark, and Leo was washing down the family’s truck. It had been used to take a load of vegetables to the market, and was filthy from squashed tomatoes
