The Importance of Being Ernest: The Life of Actor Jim Varney (Stuff that Vern doesn't even know)

By Justin Lloyd

Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, Ernest, the lovable blue-collar buffoon, was a staple of pop culture in countless commercials, nearly a dozen movies and an award-winning Saturday-morning TV show. Today, millions of fans still mourn the loss of actor Jim Varney, who portrayed Ernest and who died at age 50 in 2000 of cancer. Ernest fans are finally getting the biography they have been waiting for in this comprehensive work by Jim’s nephew, Justin Lloyd. “The Importance of Being Ernest: The Life of Actor Jim Varney” traces Jim’s journey from a child in Lexington, Kentucky, with dreams of being a stage and film actor to becoming an iconic entertainment figure in the tradition of Charlie Chaplin’s “The Little Tramp.”

The book is based on numerous interviews with family members and intimates of Jim who have never spoken publicly before about what drove the actor and how he overcame many personal and professional obstacles to attain success. But with that success came a price: Jim longed for stage and film roles beyond Ernest, and they were difficult to come by because of his symbiosis with the character. Yet Jim persevered, ultimately winning major movie roles such as Jed Clampett in “The Beverly Hillbillies” and (the voice of) Slinky Dog in the first two “Toy Story” films. The book also explores the genius of the small Nashville advertising agency that created Ernest and how it spread his popularity decades before “going viral” became associated with achieving global stardom.

Even at the height of his career, Jim never forgot he was a descendant of Appalachian coal miners, and he remained true to his values, his friends and his family. Jim always strove for authenticity and humanity inside his hillbilly humor, endearing him to fans from every walk of life. “The Importance of Being Ernest: The Life of Actor Jim Varney” documents the life of an unforgettable figure in American comedy whose legacy endures today.

“The Importance of Being Ernest: The Life of Actor Jim Varney” contains never-before-seen photos from the Varney family’s private collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Justin Lloyd
• Release date: Dec 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311720139

Justin Lloyd

Justin Lloyd is Jim Varney’s nephew. He spent over five years researching and writing “The Importance of Being Ernest: The Life of Actor Jim Varney.” It is his first book. Justin lives with his family in Central Kentucky.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE: SHOTGUN WEDDING

Two young bridesmaids, 12 and 14, enter the living room of their modest Kentucky home. The bride, their older sister, follows. They all make their way to a makeshift altar where a young minister awaits. Now comes the groom, followed by the bride’s much younger brother, pressing … is that a shotgun to the groom’s back? Yes, it is. Yet the bride and groom are surprisingly cheerful as they exchange vows, a contrast to the bride’s grief-stricken mother sitting on a nearby sofa wringing her tear-soaked handkerchief into a small bowl.

The little brother carrying the toy shotgun is 7-year-old Jim Varney, who will one day become the 20th century pop-culture phenomenon known as Ernest. The wedding is actually a 45-second silent home movie filmed in 1956, appropriately titled Shotgun Wedding. The actors were members of the McChord and Varney families, connected by James Varney Sr. and his sister Iona McChord. Jim’s cousin Ed McChord filmed the ceremony.

Jim’s mother arguably stole the show with her melodramatic cameo. Her early days performing in church plays had made her an obvious choice to portray the bride’s mother. The fact that the girl playing the bride was her real-life daughter seemed to enhance her Method acting approach. It was fitting that her part involved the exaggerated use of a prop. In the slapstick brand of humor that would come to define her son’s acting career, the ability to draw laughs from the simplest of items would be an integral part of his appeal. Shotgun Wedding remains a timeless reminder of the humor in the Varney family, while revealing one of the many ways they cultivated Jim’s passion for entertaining.

CHAPTER TWO: THE BEGINNING

The names that Jim answered to throughout his life were as varied as the characters he portrayed: Jimmy, Jimbo, Bo, Elvis, Dylan, Ernest, Vern and the Hey Vern guy. His two wives and close friends simply called him Varney.

Jim was named after his father, James Albert Varney Sr., who was born in the small coal-mining town of Norton, Va., on Jan. 1, 1910. Big Jim was the fourth of eight children and the firstborn son of a coal miner named Andrew Varney and his second wife, Rena. Andrew and Rena had moved from Andrew’s hometown of Varney, W. Va., to Norton to find employment just after their oldest child, Roxie, was born. By the time James Sr. was about 15, his father had moved everyone 100 miles northeast back to Varney. (Author’s note: I could not find a definitive link in my research between the town’s name and Jim’s ancestry, although there may very well be one.)

Varney is a small, unincorporated town located in Mingo County. The town of Matewan (just southwest of Varney) is also located in Mingo. Matewan, across the border of eastern Kentucky along the banks of the Tug Fork River, was still dealing with the aftermath of the famous Matewan Massacre when James Sr. was coming of age. The incident, which took place in 1920, was a shootout between a group of striking coal miners employed by the Stone Mountain Coal Company, local lawmen sympathetic to their plight and mine detectives hired to evict the miners from their company-owned houses. (John Sayles’ critically acclaimed 1987 film Matewan brought to life this violent episode while illuminating the oppression endured by early Appalachian coal miners.)

The Mingo County area is also notable for serving as the backdrop for much of the Hatfield-McCoy feud of the late 1800s. The Varneys were linked to the Hatfield family by blood and marriage. Andrew Varney’s first cousin was Levisa Chafin, the wife of William Anderson Devil Anse Hatfield. John Henderson Varney, Andrew’s uncle, married Devil Anse’s sister, Martha Hatfield. Larkin and Andrew were two of their sons. Although Jim’s grandfather wasn’t known to have directly participated in the feud, his cousins Larkin and Andrew did. (Larkin – sometimes referred to as Lark – was portrayed by actor Noah Taylor in the popular Hatfields & McCoys movie starring Kevin Costner that aired on The History Channel in 2012.)

Jim’s Roots Stretch Back to the Hatfields

The Varneys were linked to the feuding family by blood and marriage.

For whatever reason, Jim and his sisters were never made aware of their strong family connection to the Hatfields. They did grow up hearing stories about Grandfather Andrew Varney hunting squirrel with members of the Hatfields, but that was the extent of their knowledge. Perhaps Jim’s father was not even fully aware of the family connection himself since it wasn’t exactly something his parents would want to boast about during the years following the bloody feud. What shaped the children’s view of their father’s upbringing even more (besides old family stories) was the one family trip they took to West Virginia in the early 1950s. Jim’s sister Jake vividly remembers the visit:

• • •

"A 1949 green Plymouth was our second car. It wasn’t new and it wasn’t air-conditioned, but few cars were at that time. It had gray upholstery and enough room for all six of us if Jim sat on Mama’s lap.

"Daddy wanted to take us all to West Virginia to see his family, some of whom he hadn’t seen since he left to join the Army in 1931.

"We went in the summer (of 1952), just before school started when Jim was 2. It would be a trip of about 10 hours, with frequent stops to gas stations, not to use the bathroom but to wash our faces and hose vomit off the car.

"To say it was a miserable trip would be to put it mildly. We all got carsick and vomited out of the windows. The car was like an oven, and the road was one curve after another through the mountains of eastern Kentucky.

"We visited several of Daddy’s elderly aunts, some cousins and their families. They still called Daddy ‘Ab,’ a shortened version of his middle name Albert. For the most part, they were miners. We saw living conditions far below our own.

"Daddy’s family was fairly well educated and had more than most, but those who got their education and moved back to West Virginia couldn’t find work not connected to coal mining.

"The drive back from West Virginia was not as traumatic as the ride there. It rained for most of the way home. We cracked the car windows, and the car was much cooler. We pulled into our home in Bluegrass Park, a government housing project, and thought we were rich.

"We never went to West Virginia again as a family, though Mama and Daddy visited (Daddy’s) nephew often. Jim never realized the life we might have had if Daddy had stayed in West Virginia.

Jim jokingly told people he was a ‘Hill William (instead of a hillbilly).’ He was from a large city, far away from a hill of any sort. (Yet) he admired mountain people and let everyone believe he was one of them.

• • •

Coal mining defined much of Appalachian life in the early 1900s as the region’s precious resources brought in big coal companies. Unfortunately, the ease with which a young man could find a coal-mining job was offset by its dangers. Jim’s father experienced this firsthand when he began working for the Red Jacket Coal Company in Mingo County at 16. His younger brother, Sam, soon joined him, as the responsibility for providing for much of the family’s income fell on their shoulders. Their father was unable to work after suffering a chest injury during a mine cave-in.

After five years at the mine with only a 5-cent raise, bringing his wage to 55 cents an hour, James Sr. decided he had had enough and quit the mine in 1931 after a chance meeting with an Army recruiter at the local mine store.

• • •

Before long, Jim’s father was looking out upon the sunny beaches of Hawaii, where he would be stationed for the next three years. It must have felt like a million miles away from the depths of the West Virginia coal mines, where sunlight and fresh air were nonexistent. James Sr. made sure a portion of his Army checks were mailed back to West Virginia to support his family. He also kept up his correspondence with many of his siblings, including sisters Iona and Cecelia who had moved to Lexington, Ky. Cecelia’s letters soon included an extra page or two from a new (and single) sister-in-law named Louise Howard; the correspondence made her brother eager to visit the city that Cecelia now called home.

Jim’s mother, Nancy Louise Howard, grew up the youngest of five in a farming community in Winchester, Ky., just east of Lexington. The acting in Jim’s blood most likely came from his mother. Years before her son found worldwide fame with Ernest, Louise entertained members of the Macedonia Christian Church in Lexington, acting in various plays as a teenager. In the Family Register section of a Bible that Louise purchased in 1986, she recalled one of these plays. Just below the entry of her baptism date, she wrote, Had the lead in ‘Backwoods School of 1849’ at church, it was fun.

A few years before Louise joined the church, her family made a short move from Winchester to the outskirts of Lexington to the horse farm known as Hamburg Place. There, her father, James Howard, worked as a horseman and gardener for John E. Madden, the world-renowned horse breeder. John Madden trained five Kentucky Derby winners on the Lexington farm (today the land is the site of a thriving commercial development, still called Hamburg Place). Along with his primary duties, James Howard assisted in other projects on the storied horse farm such as the construction of a horse cemetery.

Louise’s mother, Annie Belle Howard, would outlive her husband by almost 25 years. Known as Granny to the Varney children, she was the only grandparent Jim and his sisters would ever know. She was a tiny woman, barely five feet tall, but one of the most capable women they ever knew. Even in her early 60s, with her husband retired, she entered the workforce as a presser in a Laundromat.

Although Jim and his sisters had only one grandparent in their lives, they enjoyed a close relationship with a number of aunts and uncles living in Lexington. Louise’s two sisters lived in town: Sally and Betty. Betty actually lived on the same street as Jim’s family on two separate occasions. James Sr.’s sister Iona, deaf from a childhood illness, had settled in Lexington with her husband, Winfield (they met at a deaf school). Iona and Winfield had three sons: Win, Jack and Ed. (Although none were deaf, they all signed as if it was a second language. Ed, the youngest, could sign so fast that he was nicknamed Fast Eddie.)

None of Jim’s relatives played a more significant role in Jim’s life than the aunt and uncle who brought the Howard and Varney families together. Louise’s older brother, Everett, worked in Lexington as a painter and dabbled in everything from plasterwork to the tasks associated with a finishing carpenter. His work could be seen in many of the finer homes in Lexington, as well as in local theaters and downtown office buildings. It was in one of those theaters that he met James Sr.’s sister Cecelia. She had moved to Lexington with her first husband’s family. She met Everett shortly after her husband’s death. Everett and Cecelia married in 1928 and were in Lexington when the Great Depression arrived. During those tough times they lived for a few years with Everett’s parents at Hamburg Place.

Cecelia got along well with Everett’s family and became close friends with Louise. Cecelia mentioned to Louise that her younger brother was serving in the Army. The more Cecelia talked about James, the more intrigued Louise became. She began writing him letters that Cecelia included in the envelopes of her own correspondence. James Sr. wrote back to Louise, and before long the two were keeping in touch on a regular basis and counting the days until they could meet. That day finally came in the summer of 1934 when James Sr. finished his three-year tour in Hawaii. The first time Louise saw him she was standing anxiously at the train station waiting for his arrival home. Cecelia helped point her brother out among the crowd of passengers. Not only was James Sr. tall and broad-shouldered, when he smiled his white teeth reminded Louise of a model in a Pepsodent toothpaste advertisement.

Jim Varney’s future parents spent the summer getting better acquainted before James Sr. was shipped overseas for another tour. He spent the next three years in the Philippines, where he eventually reached the rank of corporal. He and Louise continued to correspond and eventually married shortly after he returned to Lexington in 1938.

Within the first five years of their marriage, Louise gave birth to two girls, Jo Gail and Janice Ann (who came to be known as Jake). Meanwhile, James Sr. found employment as a ward attendant at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Lexington. Louise stayed home raising the girls. The Varneys settled into a small residence in Bluegrass Park around 1940. They would stay 14 years. Opened in 1938, Bluegrass Park was one of Lexington’s first low-cost housing projects, and many other military families lived there.

In March 1944, just as Louise learned she was pregnant with their third daughter, Sandra (or Sandy as she came to be called), James Sr. returned to active service. He was assigned to Camp Barkeley, outside of Abilene, Texas, where he guarded German prisoners at the POW camp. When World War II ended roughly a year later, James Sr. returned home to his family and his job at the hospital.

A few years later, Louise finally gave birth to a son. James Albert Varney Jr. was born on June 15, 1949, at Good Samaritan Hospital in Lexington. Dr. A.J. Whitehouse helped bring Jim into the world. (Whitehouse would become a local legend for delivering thousands of babies over 50 years.) After three daughters, James Sr. was ready to welcome a son into the fold.

Although not exactly tiny, Jim hardly resembled the 15-pound giant his father claimed to have been as a newborn. Louise was so convinced she had been carrying another girl that she had actually made a dress for the baby to wear home. Perhaps to help distinguish his name from the one he shared with his father, the family called the new arrival Jimbo and sometimes Bo for short. All of Jim’s sisters were excited to have a little brother, and each would have a role in helping to raise him. The baby became their new toy, and they never tired of playing with him. Often called a little sponge, Jim’s ability to retain so much of what he read or heard amazed the family. It was not only the amount he retained that impressed them but the early age at which it began. Sandy swears that Jim could read portions of their elementary schoolbooks before he was 3.

The constant attention Jim received from his sisters would prove to be all the more important as he battled asthma from an early age. He had so much trouble breathing that he would occasionally break blood vessels in his eyes. When he was outside playing and experienced an attack, one of his sisters was usually there to see that he went inside to recover. His mother stayed up many nights with him, sometimes holding his sleepy head over a vaporizer. The aroma of Vick’s often filled the house in fall and winter, while the thermostat stayed turned up an extra notch to keep him warm. Jim became all too familiar with the rules of his condition, which made him long for spring and summer when many of his symptoms subsided. Unfortunately, the only treatment available then was a shot administered by a doctor (who came to the house). The doctor told Jim’s parents that he would outgrow his asthma but would probably have problems with his lungs. True to the doctor’s word, the episodes grew farther apart as Jim matured. As far as anyone knows, he never had to use an inhaler.

Because of Jim’s asthma, his parents discussed the possibility of Big Jim transferring to another VA hospital located in a warmer climate. James Sr. had worked his way up to a physical-therapist position while taking on additional duties that included organizing recreational activities and serving as a barber. But since his main specialty was so specific, options were limited. One opportunity they considered was in Palo Alto, Calif. The children all wanted to go, but in the end their mother could not bear to leave Lexington and her family. She decided to leave things as they were, hoping that Jim would get better.

Along with his job and family obligations, Jim’s father was extremely involved in the local community. Having boxed as a young man, including earning a title while stationed in Hawaii, he was able to find work as a referee at many Golden Gloves tournaments held in Lexington. He also worked as a parking-lot attendant at the Keeneland racetrack during the spring and fall meets. Through his involvement with the VA, he participated in many of their volunteer activities and was active in his local Masonic lodge.

Despite the extra money his side jobs brought in, Jim’s father could not provide for his kids in the way that he wanted. He did manage, however, to use the resources available to him to keep them entertained and physically active. With the VA Hospital’s permission, he regularly brought recreational equipment home for his children to use. James Sr. made sure that even his daughters learned the skills essential to boxing. This included proficiency on the speed bag, where Jo Gail quickly became known as the most dangerous. Jim’s father refereed boxing matches between the kids and their friends. He enjoyed the time spent with the neighborhood kids throughout Jim’s childhood. Many of them have fond memories today of Mr. Varney and credit him with teaching them good sportsmanship.

The VA also let James Sr. bring his kids to swim in their indoor heated pools. He preferred to do this on Sunday afternoons just after the pools were cleaned. The children had the water to themselves for hours. Jake and Sandy remember swimming there during winter, looking out the windows and watching the snow fall.

Jim’s father was successful in teaching all the children to swim except for Jim. Although he wanted to please his father, Jim always panicked as soon as his head began to go under water. His sisters tried but never succeeded in helping him overcome his fear.

Jim’s father didn’t always need equipment or a pool to whip his kids into shape. Many mornings before he went to school, Jim and his sisters were led through a multitude of exercises that included push-ups, sit-ups and jumping jacks. Although it was not always easy keeping up with his older sisters, Jim’s fitness level greatly improved over time. That helped control his asthma and added muscle to his thin frame.

Jim’s father enjoyed many other activities with his children. He demonstrated card tricks and participated in games such as checkers and chess. With the entire family joining in, these games could become competitive. Bingo was played for nickels and dimes, and that was considered high stakes.

As Jim grew older, he began to take an interest in the items his father had acquired while stationed in Hawaii and the Philippines. This is where his lifelong fascination with knives, swords and watches began. Jim soaked up every detail of the workmanship and the history of each item. This time also gave him the opportunity to connect with his father in ways he never could around athletics.

Jim also pursued his own interests. He sang, danced and mimicked characters he watched on TV. The ease with which Jim could pick up on the accent and mannerisms of a person carried over to musical instruments. Sister Jake remembers buying Jim a harmonica when he was around 8 years old. Jim immediately began playing a Stephen Foster tune called Ring Ring the Banjo. Surprised, Jake asked Jim how he could play the song so well. Jim told her he had heard the song somewhere and was just playing it back the way he remembered. A few years later he showed the same natural ability on an Appalachian dulcimer he purchased.

Before long, it was not only family he entertained but any neighborhood friends and classmates who showed Jim attention. Some, like neighbor Sonny Wilson, joined Jim in various routines. Years later, Jim credited Sonny for helping him develop his comedic abilities. Jim recalled once, Sonny was a real cut up. He’d wear weird things, put on weird hats. He and I were like the Marx Brothers.

Through the years, the dinner table served as a sounding board for Jim and his sisters. There, everyone traded interesting stories that were often very funny. The Varney kids were encouraged to share anything they thought entertaining. But the kids’ tales rarely topped their father’s, which included experiences from his childhood, the Army and his job at the VA.

Of all his father’s stories, the tales of growing up in the mountains seemed to capture Jim’s imagination the most. Although raised in the suburbs of Lexington, Jim came to identify strongly with the Varney’s mountain heritage. This