Singer Ronnie Milsap was born blind and poor.
His mother abandoned him when he was 1. He had no access to running water or indoor plumbing until age 6. Taken by desperate grandparents to faith healers, he was led to believe his blindness was his own fault.But for 18 remarkable years, Milsap has been one of music's most imponderable success stories.
He's been living in his dark world for 48 years now. Admirers often ask him: "Tell me how you did it?" Before he can answer, they customarily interject: "If you did it, I know I can do it."
From his lack of vision to his Smoky Mountain childhood poverty, Milsap has battled barriers that would have halted the first steps of lesser individuals.
His savior, his calling card, his ticket out of his abject circumstance was music.
"It's a Cinderella story," he mused recently in an interview. "All my dreams have come true and many that I never even thought about have happened."
He's a four-time Grammy winner and has sold 20 million rec-ords. His 22nd album, "Back to the Grindstone," is now in release.
Milsap recently shuffled into his spartan Music Row office and sat down to reflect on his life. Denied sight, he has honed his ears and his instincts.
"Haven't we met before?" he asks a visitor in the first exchangeof chitchat.
Yes, it was 1986, he is told.
"I thought I recognized your voice," he says.
He then explores more cerebral subjects: hardship, handicap, and brighter subjects - overcoming them.
"You get tough or die," he said.
Associates call him "the bionic ear" for his uncanny knack of discerning mediocre music from exceptional.
That talent has produced a geyser of hit records in both country and pop music: "Lost in the Fifties Tonight," "It Was Almost Like a Song," "Any Day Now," "He Got You" "Smoky Mountain Rain."
He's one of the few Nashville performers to crack MTV's music video playlist; his "She Loves My Car" was aired regularly in 1984.
He's also ventured fearlessly into other musical genres. On his current album is "Love Certified," a soulful and playful duet with Patti LaBelle. Also on the LP is the bluesy rocker, "Old Habits Are Hard to Break," written by John Hiatt.
Milsap wonders whether his musical adventures will undercut his legacy.
"I guess I'll never be considered a stylist because I won't stay in one place (style) and sing country music for 30 years and die and people will say, `What a great country singer.'
"I think I'd be bored to death."
To that end, he's done duets with Gladys Knight, Dionne Warwick, Ray Charles, Kenny Rogers, B.B. King and Barry Manilow. Charles, also blind, is one of the entertainers Milsap admires most.
He recently tried another art form. His autobiography, "Almost Like a Song," was published in 1990 by McGraw-Hill. And Milsap says that it's easier making a rec-ord than writing a book.
Writing about his childhood memories "was painful," he said. About his mother, he wrote: "I don't hate her. I have no feelings for her at all."
After two years at junior college, he moved to Memphis and ended up as a recording session musician for Elvis Presley.
"I'll never forget when he wanted to hear a little thunder on `Kentucky Rain.' He stopped the session and said, `Ronnie, that's where I want you to hit the low end of the piano,"' Milsap recalled.
After his Memphis work, Milsap relocated to Nashville where he launched his recording career with RCA Records.
He's one of the most respected entertainers in the country music capital. His cheerfulness is a source of wonder, like the two or three times he has tumbled off stage and playfully picked himself up and carried on.
But he acknowledges his good spirits haven't been cultivated easily.
"I grew up hard," he said. "I was cold and I was very cynical. I didn't believe in much of anything. One thing instilled in me was the will to drive and develop your independence."