“See, it hadn’t been that long since the Depression,” he explained. “My dad was a credit boy all his life – owed money on the farm – so I told myself that I’d never go into debt. Leo was different – He’d go into debt on an investment like a house afire! He didn’t care. Besides, he was smart. And he thinks at it all the time; he keeps digging. He’s a pursuer, by day and night. That’s what put the guitar where it is.
I only met Doc a few times, but Leo told me that when Doc had worked for Rickenbacker in Santa Ana, they built Hawaiian and steel lap guitars. Doc had invented a pickup and a tailpiece that Leo called a tremolo. Nobody knows where Leo got this name, but he always insisted that everyone call it that. It was not a vibrato, not a whammy bar, but a tremolo!
In 1946, Leo set up his first plant to produce his guitars a couple of blocks away from the radio repair shop at 122 S. Pomona Avenue. Today, the site has a parking structure, and over two entrances there are wonderful murals of Leo and his inventions. It was created by a local artist, with the help of some of Fullerton’s children.
In 1949, Leo finished a prototype of a thin solid-body electric guitar and commercially released it in 1950 as the Fender Esquire. He renamed it the Broadcaster, but that got Leo into copyright trouble with Gretsch Drums. Leo was not a fighter and not about to waste time with a bunch of lawyers. He just quickly sidestepped and trimmed the name off the decals. Today, those guitars are known as “Nocasters.” Eventually, Leo thought of a new name, the Telecaster. This name was a simple, catchy blend between the new, upcoming televisions and radio broadcasters. That was Leo—he liked it simple.
The Telecaster immediately caught on. Leo, now more business savvy from his prior legal challenges, quickly took his drawings and registered them with the US Patent Office. This turned out to be yet another brilliant idea, which kept the copycats at bay. Leo just loved the Telecaster and the music it made. With his one good eye, Leo knew style when he saw it. The Telecaster had style.
When Leo invented the Telecaster, he had his own musical taste in mind. Leo was always clear that he specifically liked three kinds of music. There was country music. There was western music. And there was country-western music. For his entire life, he simply loved watching a Telecaster being played by country-western players.
When I think about the Telecaster, I wonder how many other products were invented in the 1940s that are still considered iconic today? Now, that is “staying power!” That Telecaster later created music ranging from Chuck Berry to the Beatles to Jimmy Page’s Led Zeppelin One album, and everything in between. Leo’s years of obsession with the Telecaster resulted in an instrument that today continues to inspire musicians.
THE STRATOCASTER DAYS
Leo continued working on Pomona Avenue for a few years, but his Telecaster guitar was taking off, and it was clear that he needed more space. Leo insisted that the company stay in Fullerton, so he went a few blocks east and found a large tract of level land on Raymond Avenue.
Leo designed the buildings himself—but then again, he designed everything himself! Leo was optimistic about his business, but he was also cautious. He designed the building as multiple, small independent units that could also be operated as one large manufacturing plant. Leo thought that if his new business ever struggled or failed, at least it would be easy to lease out the individual units. That never happened.
One day, the contractors handed Leo a set of keys to 500 S. Raymond Avenue. It was a non-descript, grey concrete building located just south of the railroad line in the industrial section of Fullerton.
Leo unlocked the doors, turned on the lights and got to work. With a growing business, Leo was on the lookout for talented people. By chance, Leo met Freddie Tavares. He was born on Maui, Hawaii, and was about four years younger than Leo.
It is gutsy of him, but when the two met, Freddie told Leo that his amplifiers were junk. A proud man would have gotten mad and written the guy off, but remember, Leo was not conventional. Many CEOs surround themselves with yes-men who always vote unanimously for everything the leader proposes. Leo was different, and he always liked people that told him the truth.
Leo quietly asked Freddie what was wrong with his amplifiers, and Freddie immediately turned the amp around and started showing Leo various design issues. Leo was impressed with Freddie’s insights, and he hired Freddie on the spot. Leo connected with authentic people—people who told it how it really is, had a feel for the business and got the job done.
Freddie had the vibe Leo liked. In fact, Freddie was a Hawaiian version of Leo. Quiet, mellow, and calm, Freddie was also intensely in love with music and musical instruments. While Freddie looked Hawaiian, he was a mix of Portuguese, Hawaiian, Chinese, English, Tahitian, and Samoan. Freddie would sometimes say, “The Portuguese makes me stubborn; Chinese makes me smart; English makes me high-class; Hawaiian gives me the music; Tahitian gives me the beat—I couldn’t ask for more!”
On his first day on the job in 1953, Freddie took out some paper and drew a design for Leo. Leo loved it, and together the two of them collaborated to invent the Stratocaster. Freddie not only worked for Leo in the Pre-CBS days, but stayed with the Fender company even during the CBS period as a designer and engineer within the research and development department. While his contributions were huge, Freddie was always very mild and humble. He once said, “All of the guitars were essentially Leo’s design.”
Leo and I were both quite fond of Freddie and his wife, Tamar. Freddie was the one who played the instruments, and had a knack for truly feeling the instrument as he and his wife sang together. If Freddie liked it, Leo knew it was a winner, and that when the invention hit the streets the world would never be the same.
I sometimes think about the rare brain—compared to my blonde brain—who could make all of this happen in such a short amount of time. I believe that the secret came from Leo’s background, which encompassed so many talents. He was conservative to the core, exact with his expectations of himself and others, while at the same time remarkably innovative and free-thinking.
Leo knew how to use a drafting table, design and solder electronic circuitry, do woodworking, metalworking, build a facility, file a patent, invite feedback from the customers, design a mass-production manufacturing line, attract and hire good people, and quickly get rid of anyone who was lazy! Leo would laugh at the notion of doing only one thing, and he was the first in the plant to put out a fire and fix a machine with his own hands. He had to do it himself—because he invented many of those machines.
One day, tragedy struck. A bunch of employees were fixing an amplifier. Of course, Leo was right in there with them. At one point, Leo climbed down on the ground and stuck his head into the speaker cabinet to check on the wiring. Without warning, one of the men flipped the “on” switch of the amplifier, and the speakers burst out with a deafeningly loud squealing sound. Both of Leo’s eardrums were shattered. He told me that he could feel them just melt away. In an instant, Leo lost most of his hearing. It was a devastating loss for a man who already was going through life with one glass eye. Besides, he loved music, he loved musicians, and he loved his role in making instruments. Suddenly, Leo’s world was nearly silenced.
Leo invented this first solid body electric guitar
Later, Leo would get hearing aids, which greatly helped. Remarkably, even with these physical limitations, Leo never complained or made any kind of fuss about any of it. He simply did what Leo always did—he calmly went forward with a slight smile. His disabilities went virtually unnoticed by all the people around him.
Few would guess that Leo was a team player. At one point, he employed over a thousand people.
