The troubador always went to work with a smile. And, at the end, he was still telling jokes, forcing the words two at a time through failing lungs in his hospital bed.
"I was an entertainer," Darrell Edward "Dink" Welch, always said proudly. "If I had my life to live over, I'd do it the same way - only twice as hard. I have no regrets."
Welch, 91, a lifelong musician, died Tuesday. Visitation will be from 1 to 3 p.m. Friday at Graceland/Fairlawn Funeral Home, followed by a memorial service.
A drummer and singer, Welch traveled with vaudeville bands, played in theater bands, played with combos in saloons and nightclubs and was one of the few Decatur musicians from the 1930s and 1940s to make an out-of-town splash, along with singer June Christy, jazz drummer Monte Mountjoy, singer Ron Hoffman and Deane Kincaide, an arranger for the Bob Crosby, Benny Goodman and Tommy Dorsey bands.
Welch also discovered Homer "Boots" Randolph, who eventually became a sax-playing headliner in Nashville. He hired "Boots" for the Kopy Kats, the quartet that was a hit in the South.
A good-looking, hard-living guy, Welch played in the 1990s at the Elks Lodge 401 on Wednesday nights with Gene Bell, piano, and Jack Plotts, guitar. "He would be sick on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, then somehow drag himself out of bed and show up at the Elks," his son, Tux, recalled.
Like Frank Sinatra, Welch insisted on doing it his way. Once with Hank Haynes' Over the Hill Gang, Welch saw that Charles Kuralt, the TV personality, was in the Arcola Broom Corn Festival parade. Welch wasn't scheduled to play but he didn't want to be left out. So he tore two boards from a fence, fashioned drumsticks and joined the band.
"I could listen to his stories for hours," Tom Cole, a longtime admirer, said. "He was a colorful old guy."
With the Over the Hill Gang, he was introduced as "the legendary Dink Welch," Janet Haynes recalled.
"I was the king, sitting behind the drums," Welch would say. "I was the boss, I could guess what people wanted and I could deliver it.
"I never made the big time because I was too busy having fun."
Herald & Review Jan 20, 2000
The troubador always went to work with a smile. And, at the end, he was still telling jokes, forcing the words two at a time through failing lungs in his hospital bed.
"I was an entertainer," Darrell Edward "Dink" Welch, always said proudly. "If I had my life to live over, I'd do it the same way - only twice as hard. I have no regrets."
Welch, 91, a lifelong musician, died Tuesday. Visitation will be from 1 to 3 p.m. Friday at Graceland/Fairlawn Funeral Home, followed by a memorial service.
A drummer and singer, Welch traveled with vaudeville bands, played in theater bands, played with combos in saloons and nightclubs and was one of the few Decatur musicians from the 1930s and 1940s to make an out-of-town splash, along with singer June Christy, jazz drummer Monte Mountjoy, singer Ron Hoffman and Deane Kincaide, an arranger for the Bob Crosby, Benny Goodman and Tommy Dorsey bands.
Welch also discovered Homer "Boots" Randolph, who eventually became a sax-playing headliner in Nashville. He hired "Boots" for the Kopy Kats, the quartet that was a hit in the South.
A good-looking, hard-living guy, Welch played in the 1990s at the Elks Lodge 401 on Wednesday nights with Gene Bell, piano, and Jack Plotts, guitar. "He would be sick on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, then somehow drag himself out of bed and show up at the Elks," his son, Tux, recalled.
Like Frank Sinatra, Welch insisted on doing it his way. Once with Hank Haynes' Over the Hill Gang, Welch saw that Charles Kuralt, the TV personality, was in the Arcola Broom Corn Festival parade. Welch wasn't scheduled to play but he didn't want to be left out. So he tore two boards from a fence, fashioned drumsticks and joined the band.
"I could listen to his stories for hours," Tom Cole, a longtime admirer, said. "He was a colorful old guy."
With the Over the Hill Gang, he was introduced as "the legendary Dink Welch," Janet Haynes recalled.
"I was the king, sitting behind the drums," Welch would say. "I was the boss, I could guess what people wanted and I could deliver it.
"I never made the big time because I was too busy having fun."
Herald & Review Jan 20, 2000
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