Maybe some of you remember that I wrote a story last year titled, “Local Legends.” In that April 12, 2006 issue of the Landmark, I told of the disappearance of some Brookfield residents who had achieved national fame, and then had disappeared from the village, never to be seen or heard from again.
These celebrated citizens were Harriet Nelson, from the famous radio and television series Ozzie and Harriet; Carol Smith, world-renowned opera star; Alan Ciner of the 1960s rock band American Breed; and teenage singing star Joy Layne.
Shortly after that article was published, I was much surprised to learn that one of these famous persons was still very much alive and well and living here. The extremely reliable source for this information was none other than Brookfield Trustee C.P. Hall. How did he know? Easy. He and “Joy Layne” were, and still are, members of the Brookfield Kiwanis Club.
However, “Joy Layne” is a pseudonym. Her real name is Joy Klang. In fact, she regards her entire name as being Joy Lynne Mary Theresa Cecilia Nagl Layne Klang.
A fast start
The story of Joy Layne’s meteoric rise to singing stardom began in her early childhood, when she was still little Joy Nagl, the daughter of Rudolph and Adeline Nagl, living at 4309 Maple Ave. During a few interviews, she told me her early history.
“I was singing from before the age of 5. I owe everything to my mom and dad for giving me musical ability. My dad played the piano, and he taught me a whole lot. We learned to harmonize and so on. I had just always sung. My mom was an amateur actress; she was very good.”
The years rolled by, and Joy’s vocal talents improved. Finally, in early January 1957, she made a momentous, life-changing decision. Even while still a 15-year-old sophomore at Lyons Township High School, she decided she was ready for the big time. She knew she had a singing voice that would sound good on records.
Her mother and father accompanied her to the offices of Mercury Records, at 35 E. Wacker Drive in Chicago, where she confronted Art Talmadge, the vice-president in charge of artists and repertoire. She told him she had been studying voice for some time, and that she would make a good recording artist. Talmadge ordered a Mercury staff man to test her voice, and she sang a couple of songs.
“And within two weeks, I was recording!” Joy remembers today.
Was it easy to convince Talmadge to give her a chance? Joy tells it this way: “I think he was so taken aback by this little 90-pound person coming in and being so brash that he just decided to give me a chance. It was something so different, so unusual. It couldn’t happen today. It was a different time, definitely.”
The record company did have a few reservations about her prior vocal experience, which included studying opera with Norman Kling at the Fine Arts Institute in Chicago.
“That was one thing that really bothered the recording executives because my operatic voice would insert itself into my popular singing. Eventually they weaned me away from it altogether.”
Mercury also decided that “Joy Nagl” wasn’t the kind of name a singing star should have, so they chose Joy’s next name over, Lynne, and then changed that slightly-to Layne. They had no problem with her looks: 5 feet, 2 inches tall, with blue eyes and apricot gold hair. From this point on, her life changed dramatically, practically overnight.
By mid-January, she and her mother were visiting disc jockeys in Milwaukee, Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and Detroit, to plug the song on her first record, “Your Wild Heart.” During this time, she also managed to fit in TV appearances in Windsor, Canada and Detroit. On Jan. 18, her main song, with the flip side song “Dum-Dum” was played on the Howard Miller Show in Chicago. The song took off, and instantly her fame skyrocketed.
‘Cinderella Girl’
The Brookfield Citizen newspaper on Jan. 24, 1957 reported that “Amateur songwriters and admirers are bombarding her with mail.” Friday, the 25th, she visited Baltimore, Md., where her records had sold the most, thanks in part to Mercury’s powerful publicity department. Then came a truly special personal appearance on Monday, Jan. 28. This one was much closer to home, at Pearson’s Music and Art Shop, at 110 W. Calendar Ave. in LaGrange.
It was an experience that Joy still recalls with mixed emotions even 50 years later. “It was rather interesting, because here were all my schoolmates [from LT] who, prior to my becoming a local success, didn’t have much to do with me, because I was the oddity. I was the real oddball. And then, suddenly, they were all there, supporting me, wanting autographs and all that. And I’m thinking, ‘You’ve seen me every day, and you’ve hurt me so much by ignoring me. Now, suddenly, you’re here.’ So I was kind of overwhelmed by all that, but it was exciting.
“Nowadays, 15-year-olds are so mature and sophisticated, and I wasn’t. [Back then] I was more like an 11-year-old child in my thinking, so I just was totally overwhelmed by the popularity factor, and cameras, and autographs, and all that sort of thing.”
On the other hand, how many 11- or 15-year-olds, even today, have the nerve and spunk to do what she did to become a recording artist?
But she was able to keep a cool head on her shoulders. On Saturday, Jan. 26, she and her mother flew to Buffalo for two special appearances in front of 1,200 teenagers. She rated a police escort around the city. One of the high points of her fame was in April, when a contract was signed to create and put 20 million buttons bearing her photo into gumball machines around the country.
Joy was being called “The Cinderella Girl;” “The Cinderella of Discs,” “The Singing Vision;” “America’s Singing Sensation;” and “Brookfield’s Disc Queen.” The flurry of personal appearances became a blizzard. Charity benefits, school dances, radio shows, TV shows-all clamored for Joy Layne to appear and sing. Sometimes she even had to act, such as when she was on singer Vic Damone’s TV show, sponsored by Kellogg’s Special K cereal, and Oldsmobile.
On Wednesday night, July 17, 1957, Damone engaged in a bit of witty banter with her before she sang her latest hit, “Sixteen”:
“It’s time to meet a very unusual and talented junior miss. At a time in life when most youngsters are busy collecting records, this gal is busy making them. She has now reached the ripe old age of 15 and already has three big hits to her credit. Now here she is-lovely Joy Layne!”
Damone asked her if she was up past her bedtime, and whether she had “flipped” over all the attention yet, showing up, perhaps, for gym class in mink bloomers. She replied “Oh, no. They’d clash with my rhinestone sneakers.”
Joking aside, Damone declared, “I think it’s wonderful that you have kept your feet on the ground.” This was certainly true. She had appeared as a featured soloist at the R-B Sharclub St. Patrick’s Day Dance on March 16, and also rode on a “Joy Layne Says Go Navy” recruiting float in LaGrange’s Pet Parade on June 8. She was just a hometown girl who had really made good.
Joy’s singing career allowed her to travel to 47 of the 50 states, and to lunch with movie star Rock Hudson. Yes, while in Hollywood, on the verge of getting a movie contract, she was even supposed to meet with Elvis Presley, but that never happened. The movie contract never materialized either.
Among her records, three were certifiable hits: “Your Wild Heart;” “After School;” and “Sixteen.” Other early recordings were “Dum-Dum;” “My First Broken Heart;” “Just A Memory;” “You Gave Me Wings to Fly;” and “My Suspicious Heart.” By 1962, she had added “Moments to Remember;” “Yellow Bird;” “Why Lie;” and “Bad Girl” to her list of recordings. Joy even wrote a song, “Little Santito,” making a demo record of it at the RSI Recording Studio at 6209 W. Cermak Road in Berwyn. It is something of a departure from her previous style, with strong overtones of early country-western music. The demo failed to interest the large record companies.
That same year she did a 12-week U.S.O. tour of military bases, and was still appearing at hotels, lounges, and supper clubs around the United States. Even Mangam’s Chateau in Lyons had engaged her to sing. And ever since, she has been singing, and loving it.
What became of Joy?
So … what has Joy Klang done lately? Well, more than singing, that’s for sure. On Aug. 28, 1965, Joy Nagl married Richard Klang of Brookfield, and she is still happily married to him today. In the mid-1980s, she had her own secretarial service, and one of her clients was the Brookfield Historical Society.
She has also been working full-time for the last 17 years at the Kensington School in LaGrange. (“I love the passion kids have for life. I do so enjoy working with them,” she says) She has also been active at St. Barbara Church, and also at the British Home. For the PEP Party of Brookfield she was the secretary for 20 years. And who, since 1988, was the first female member of the Brookfield Kiwanis Club? Guess.
Joy Layne, “The Singing Vision,” is still a vision, but has not had a playdate to sing in 10 years. Also, she has recently undergone surgery, which has affected her voice, but it may be only temporary. She hopes to be able to sing again someday. Given her grit and determination, she’ll probably do it, despite humbling episodes like this one she related to me.
“Not so many years ago, I was booked by someone at the Brookfield Moose. The morning of the date of my appearance, I got a call from this same gentleman. He said, ‘We’re canceling you tonight. I can’t sell any tickets. No one ever heard of you.’ That hurt me more than anything.”
Take heart, dear songbird. Not everyone has forgotten you. You were only misplaced, and once again you have been found. You will be remembered, and honored as a shining star in Brookfield’s history.