Brenda Lee’s name may not be as recognizable as some of the other music stars from the 1960s but when you think of Christmas, you’ll know her song, and start humming her catchy tune, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”
When Lee, now 78, first hit the stage, she wasn’t old enough to drive but her powerful vocals steered her “unprecedented international popularity” as the most successful female artist of the 1960s.
Lee, whose voice defied her diminutive stature at only 4 foot 9, became a fan favorite when she was only 12.
Brenda May Tarpley, born in 1944, got her start in the late 1940s, became huge in the 1950s, and over her career–that started before she left elementary school–she topped the charts 55 times, earning the title as the most successful female recording artist of the 1960s.
When Lee was only eight (according to Rolling Stone), her father, a construction worker, was killed at work and little Brenda–who then changed her last name to Lee–became the family’s primary provider.
Taking care of her younger brother, big sister, and mother–a cotton mill worker–was not a duty, but something she wanted to do. She said that she was thrilled when she made her first $20, so she could help her family: “Even at that young age, I saw that helped our life,” Lee said, adding “It put some food on the table. It helped, and I loved it.”
The Atlanta-born chanteuse, called a “pioneer of early rock and roll,” by the Georgia Encyclopedia, achieved “unprecedented international popularity in the 1960s.”
But, an incredibly humble human, Lee credits those who helped her achieve her dreams. When Christianity Today asked what she thinks about being a legend, Lee said “I don’t think of myself that way!” She continued, “I’m just a girl who’s been blessed to be doing what I’m doing, and there’s a lot of people who’ve sweated a lot of tears and put a lot of life’s work into me to be able to have my dream. So, if I’m a legend, then they’re legends, too.”
In 1956, the young girl joined country star Red Foley for a show at the Bell Auditorium near her home in Augusta, and she belted out “Jambalaya,” by Hank Williams.
She was then signed to appear on Foley’s Ozark Jubilee, a country music show, where millions of viewers fell in love with the sassy 12-year-old whose talent was developed well beyond her age.
In the same year, Lee signed with Decca Records, and the next year, she moved to Nashville, Tennessee, and fusing country with rhythm and blues–highlighted by her hiccupping vocals–she recorded early rockabilly classics like “BIGELOW 6-200,” “Little Jonah,” and “Let’s Jump the Broomstick.”
When asked if–when as a young girl–she was nervous performing in front of large crowds, she answered: “No, not really. Nobody ever told me to be nervous. The stage always felt like a hometown to me because I had been in front of people ever since I was 3 years old, singing to people. So it was a very comfortable spot for me.”
In 1957, Lee earned the nickname “Little Miss Dynamite” for her pint-sized powerhouse recording of the song “Dynamite,” and in 1958, fans heard “Rockin’ around the Christmas Tree,” a genre and generation-crossing holiday standard, released when she was only 13.
“I knew it was magical,” she told Rolling Stone.
Over the next couple of years, she charted with hits like “Sweet Nuthin’s,” “All Alone Am I,” and “Fool #1.”
Most of her songs, however, contradicted her experience as a young girl. Her mother didn’t let her date and she graduated high school not understanding the heartbreak of young love.
She was only 16 when she said “Love could be so cruel” in the song “I’m Sorry” and only 16 when she said “I want his lips to kiss me” in the song “I Want to be Wanted,” both back-to-back hits when she was still in school.
And when she turned 18, she met Ronnie Shacklett, whom she’s now been happily married to for 60 years.
Life on the road for Lee as a youngster had its difficulties. She celebrated her 12th birthday in Las Vegas and speaking with the Las Vegas Journal, Lee explained her loneliness.
“Of course, I wasn’t even allowed to walk through a casino, I was so young. So I didn’t even know what a casino looked like. They took me into the kitchen, then into the showroom. And then when my show was over, I was brought back out through the kitchen and back up to my room. Children weren’t allowed … in the casino area.” She continued, “There wasn’t anything to do in Vegas for a kid. The most fun I had was on the stage.”
Speaking on what she missed out on as a child, the award-winning Lee said, “Many times, I yearned to be with my friends rather than be out there on the road.”
Turns out she made new friends on the road, like with the music group that opened for her at a 1962 show in Germany. “I hung out with John,” she says effortlessly, speaking of John Lennon. “He was extremely intelligent, very acerbic with his jokes, just a gentle person. When I found out that they later said they were fans of my music, I was just floored.”
My Neighbor Egged My Car Over Halloween Decorations—You Won’t Believe His Reason
I was beyond exhausted—the kind of tired that makes you question if you’ve brushed your teeth or remembered to feed the dog.
Ever since the twins were born, my days had blurred into a never-ending cycle of diaper changes, feeding schedules, and sleepless nights. The last thing I needed was another problem to deal with. But when I stepped outside that morning, I found my car completely covered in eggs.
At first, I thought it was a random prank. Who wouldn’t? Halloween was around the corner, and maybe some kids had gotten a little too excited. I sighed, too tired to even be upset, and grabbed a sponge and bucket, ready to clean up the mess.
But just as I started scrubbing, my neighbor Brad came strutting over with that smug grin of his.
“That was me,” he said, almost proudly. “Your car was ruining the view of my Halloween decorations.”
I blinked at him, trying to process his words through the fog of exhaustion. My car? Ruining his view? His ridiculous display of plastic skeletons, fake cobwebs, and oversized pumpkins?
Furious, but too tired to even start an argument, I just nodded, biting back the urge to say something I might regret. I didn’t have the energy for a confrontation, but in that moment, I silently promised myself that I’d find a way to teach Brad a lesson.
He had no idea who he was messing with.
Don’t get me wrong, Lily and Lucas were my sweet little babies, but taking care of two newborns mostly by myself was incredibly hard. I hadn’t slept a full night in months. Halloween was coming, and the whole neighborhood was excited—except me.
I didn’t have the energy to decorate, let alone get into the festive spirit.
Then, there was Brad.
Brad took Halloween way too seriously. Every year, he turned his house into a huge haunted attraction with gravestones, skeletons, big jack-o’-lanterns, and more.
He loved the attention and would smile proudly whenever someone complimented his decorations.
The entire block loved it, but I was too exhausted to care about Brad’s haunted house.
One October morning, things started to fall apart.
I went outside, carrying Lily on one hip and holding Lucas in my arm, when I noticed something. My car was covered in eggs! The eggshells were stuck to the gooey mess, dripping down the windshield like some gross breakfast gone wrong.
“Are you serious?” I muttered, staring at the mess.
The night before, I had parked in front of Brad’s house. I didn’t have much choice since it was easier to park closer to my door with the twins’ stroller.
At first, I thought it was a prank. But when I saw egg splatters near Brad’s porch, I knew it had to be him.
Brad had done this.
Even though he didn’t own the street, Brad acted like he controlled the curb during Halloween.
Furious, I marched over to his house and knocked on the door, maybe harder than I should have, but I didn’t care anymore.
“What?” Brad opened the door with his usual smug expression, crossing his arms.
His house was already decorated. There were cobwebs, plastic skeletons, and a witch sitting on a chair. It was all too much.
I wasted no time. “Did you see who egged my car?”
Without blinking, Brad replied, “I did it. Your car was blocking the view of my decorations.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You egged my car because it was parked in front of your house? You didn’t ask me to move it—you just trashed it?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “How can people see my display if your car is in the way?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you serious?”
Brad nodded, still looking pleased with himself. “I’m the Halloween King. People come from all over to see my decorations. You’re always parked there. It’s inconsiderate and ruins the vibe.”
I was juggling two newborns, barely holding it together, and he was talking about ruining the vibe?
“Well, sorry if my life interferes with your spooky setup,” I snapped. “I’ve got newborn twins, Brad.”
“I know,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Maybe park somewhere else.”
“I park there because it’s easier with the babies and the stroller!”
Brad shrugged again. “Not my problem. You can park there after Halloween.”
I stood there, speechless, my anger boiling inside. But being so tired, I couldn’t even argue anymore.
“Fine,” I snapped, and stormed back inside, shaking with anger and disbelief.
As I washed the egg off my car, something clicked. Brad wasn’t just an annoying neighbor—he was a bully. And I had had enough. If he wanted to play dirty, fine. I could play smarter.
Later that night, while rocking Lily to sleep, an idea hit me. Brad’s weakness was his pride. He needed his haunted house to be the best. I didn’t have the energy for a fight, but revenge? That, I could handle.
The next day, I casually strolled over to Brad’s yard while he was adding more decorations.
“Hey, Brad,” I said, faking cheerfulness. “I’ve been thinking. It was inconsiderate of me to block your display. Have you thought about upgrading it?”
He looked suspicious. “Upgrade?”
“Yeah, with things like fog machines or ghost projectors. Your setup is great, but those would really impress people.”
His eyes lit up. I knew I had him.
I suggested brands I had researched—terrible machines with awful reviews. But he didn’t need to know that.
“You think so?” he asked, already planning his next move.
“Oh, definitely. You’d be the talk of the neighborhood.”
Satisfied, I walked away, waiting for Halloween.
When Halloween night came, Brad’s house looked like a scene from a horror movie. He had gone all out, as I expected.
Crowds gathered to admire his setup, and Brad was in the middle of it, enjoying the attention.
I watched from my porch, feeling like a villain in a movie. His display looked impressive—until it didn’t.
Right on cue, the fog machine sputtered and started spraying water like a garden hose. The crowd gasped, and kids laughed.
Brad rushed to fix it, but then his ghost projector malfunctioned. Instead of a spooky ghost, it showed a strange blob, making the kids laugh even more.
Then, one of his giant inflatables collapsed, rolling across the yard. Some teenagers, seeing the disaster, threw eggs at his house for fun.
Brad was frantic, running around trying to save his haunted house, but it was too late. His Halloween display had turned into a joke.
The next morning, just as I was feeding Lucas, there was a knock at the door. Brad stood there, looking defeated.
“I, uh, wanted to apologize,” he mumbled. “I overreacted.”
I crossed my arms, waiting. “Yeah, you did.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize how hard it must be with the twins. I’m sorry.”
I let him squirm for a bit. “Thanks for apologizing, Brad. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
He nodded quickly. “It won’t.”
As he turned to leave, I couldn’t help but add, “Funny how things work out, huh?”
Brad had no response.
Leave a Reply