Cowboy singer Rex Allen and the Carousel of Progress

By Dai Bando for THE HOBBLEDEHOY

Throughout the 1950s, Rex Allen made dozens of B-list cowboy movies with titles like Border Saddle Mates, Utah Wagon Train,  and  Down Laredo Way. In each of these, Rex was paired with his trusted steed, aka “Koko the Miracle Horse.”

For his contributions to the film industry, Allen received a motion pictures star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1975, located on Hollywood Boulevard.

As well as his work on the silver screen, in 1956 Allen tried his luck in television, cast as Dr. Bill Baxter for the half-hour weekly syndicated series Frontier Doctor. The storyline of episode #26 of the series is about a man accused of murdering his brother, who say he has amnesia. Dr. Baxter tries a new technique called hypnotism to help him regain his memory. One day you’re grabbing your six-shooter; the next you’re using your skills as a hypnotist – oh, that “Carousel of Time.”

A  ”singing cowboy” in the style of Roy Rogers and Gene Autry, Rex Allen wrote over 250 songs – dozens of these hits played over country music radio stations. He recorded “Crying in the Chapel” – which was later covered by Elvis Presley and even later by Bob Marley. (Marley changed the title to Selassie in the Chapel, an idea that probably never occurred to Rex Allen.)

In 1962 Rex had another hit song, the regrettable “Son, Don’t Go Near the Indians” – a title that today conjures up images of MAGA hat-wearing brats taunting a Native American elder. The single reached #17 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #4 on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart.

“Son, Don’t Go Near the Indians” is actually about … ugh, just give it a listen (below) but don’t say you were warned.

While contracted with Disney, Rex also recorded a wonderful song written by The Sherman Brothers (who composed songs from Mary Poppins, Winnie the Pooh, The Jungle Book, and many other Disney classics) called “There’s a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow.” That song didn’t appear in a movie, but is famously featured in the attraction Walt Disney’s Carousel of Progress. I personally have never witnessed The Carousel of Progress at Disney Park or elsewhere, but I count myself as a fan of this dated and decidedly likable song.

Memorable narrator in Disney’s lean years

In my opinion, Rex Allen was at his best when narrating those short films that appeared Sunday nights on The Wonderful Wold of Disney during the 1960s, a decade when Walt Disney was in a bit of a slump (Chitty, Chitty Bang Bang. ‘Nuff said). Rex narrated  Ringo the Refugee Raccoon, Charlie the Lonesome Cougar, and several more stories about wild animals entering people’s homes, knocking shit over the place, and eventually escaping back to the wild. I loved Ringo, Charlie – all of ‘em! I still can hear the warm and wise voice of Rex Allen saying, “careful there, furry friend. That pitcher of buttermilk is going to tip over right on Grandma’s new quilt.”  Or something like that.

Unfortunately, the only version of Ringo the Refugee Racoon currently available for viewing on YouTube is a Spanish-language version retitled “Ringo, El Mapache Refugiado.” The Spanish narrator is “muy talentoso”, but he’s no Rex Allen.

Rex also narrated the animated musical Charlottes Web (1974), which was a childhood favorite of my daughter Caleigh’s (and mine).  Rex’s voice begins the movie: 

”This old world is filled with wonders, but to me there is no place more wonderful than a farm in springtime, when the sun is just lifting from the skyline. The air is so sweet and everywhere you look, little miracles are happening …” 

Beautiful.

“Don’t Go Near the Indians” …and watch your ass in the driveway

Rex died tragically in 1999 in Tucson when he was run-over by a car in his own driveway. It was not a black-hatted hombre or a renegade raccoon behind the wheel of the car, but his own caregiver. There would be no miracles performed by his horse, as Koko had passed on in 1969.

So, appreciate the cougars and raccoons and forgive any wild animals that spill your buttermilk. And watch your ass, even in your own driveway. 

Thank you, Rex Allen. You done good, pardner.