In 1903, 16 year-old Eck decided then and there to become a professional musician. He soon left home
and joined a traveling medicine show. Over the next several years he worked with a half-dozen
different medicine shows. In 1906, Eck got married and he and his new wife, Netty, started out
traveling around Texas and adjacent states, playing fiddle and piano in silent-movie houses. Never shy
about promoting himself, Eck was a superb showman who billed himself as “The Cowboy Fiddler” and
outfitted himself from head to toe in the style of a western cowpuncher. When interviewed in the mid-
1960s, Eck remembered that, “I was the most popular dang fiddler ever was on the road. I could book
every dang town I came to, it didn’t make any difference where it was. There were lots of places where
they turned musicians down, but I came right along and booked them.”
After Eck had honed his fiddle chops to a fine edge, he started winning the fiddler’s conventions that
were held all over the southwest. Competition at these fiddle contests was notoriously fierce, and
winning was no mean trick. One story has Eck in a showdown playoff with John Wills, the father of
legendary fiddler Bob Wills. In a last-ditch effort to give himself an edge, legend has it that Eck broke
off a piece of a wooden match and stuck it under one of his strings, so that he could bow three strings at
once. The trick worked and Eck was victorious.
At another popular fiddlers convention held in Munday, Texas, John Wills and Eck were running neck
and neck, so the judges decided that the pair should play a run-off. This was a prestigious convention
and a lot of prize money was at stake. Eck was up first and he likely played “Beaumont Rag,” one of
the numbers he often performed when the competition was stiff. John Wills got up next and played
“Gone Indian,” which was his lucky tune that had helped him win many fiddle competitions. When
John reached a certain point in the tune, he let out a high-pitched cry that he held for what seemed like
several minutes. Of course, when he finished fiddling, the audience went wild and the judges awarded
him first prize. When Eck was leaving the festival grounds someone hollered out to him, “Eck, did
John out-fiddle you?”
Eck shot right back with “Hell, no! He didn’t out-fiddle me. That damned old man Wills out-hollered
me.”
In addition to competing at fiddlers conventions, by 1919 Eck started attending reunions of
Confederate veterans. In June of 1922, Eck traveled to a Confederate reunion in Richmond, Virginia.
It was perhaps there that he met, or was reacquainted with, 76-year-old Henry Gilliland (1845–1924),
who had fought in the Civil War and was later an Indian fighter and Justice of the Peace. Somehow, the
pair decided to travel to New York to try to convince RCA Victor to let them make records. They were
apparently undaunted by the fact that no record company had ever shown the slightest interest in
recording old-time fiddle music.
Part of the reason that Eck and Henry decided to make the trip to New York was that Henry was
acquainted with a lawyer named Martin W. Littleton, who did occasional legal work for the RCA
Victor label. He invited the musicians to stay with him after they arrived in New York and promised to
introduce them to the people at the office of Victor records. And that’s exactly what happened.
The staff at Victor must have been flabbergasted when Eck and Henry showed up unannounced at their
Manhattan office, with Robertson and Gilliland both dressed head-to-toe in full cowboy regalia. Trying
to dispatch the pair with impunity, one of the Victor officials bustled into the waiting room and said to
Eck, “Young man, get your fiddle out and start off a tune.” Eck responded by breaking into a rousing
version of “Sallie Gooden,” a tune he had used to win many a fiddle contest in Texas.