Two Foot Fred: How My Life Has Come Full Circle - Softcover

Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Fred Gill was known as the Ambassador of Attractions for the super duo Big & Rich. Fred is also a successful entrepreneur, real-estate tycoon, and country music icon.

Lisa Wysocky is a bestselling fiction and nonfiction author who splits her time between Minnesota and Tennessee. From the mystery The Opium Equation, which garnered four awards, to the award-winning Front of the Class, coauthored with Brad Cohen and aired as a Hallmark Hall of Fame TV movie, Lisa’s many books empower readers.

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Two Foot Fred

ADAPTING TO LIFE WITH ME

“Cut,” screamed David Hogan in his British accent. “Let’s effing do it again.”

The rocking music was cued and the scene began to swell once again, filling the air around me.

“Three, two, one, action,” called Hogan, and I began to dance like I’d never danced before.

It was April 14, 2004. I remember the date clearly, because it was the day before tax day. Through a very odd set of circumstances, I found myself dancing in a music video on a pedestrian footbridge that spanned the Cumberland River in Nashville, Tennessee. David Hogan is a veteran industry director and I was trying extremely hard to give him, and John Rich, a longtime friend and one half of the duo Big & Rich, exactly what they wanted.

At the wrap party that night, I learned that Hogan was skeptical about having me in the video and had worked me that much harder during the day. But he and everyone else ended up being pleased with my performance. I was very excited, as this was my first real experience in the entertainment business. In fact, it was my first encounter with country music beyond being a fan.

The video being shot was for a song called “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy),” by Big & Rich. The song and video went on to become their first big hit and established them—and me—firmly in the hearts of millions of fans worldwide. On this day, however, none of us knew we were making history.

The day before, I had driven from my hometown of Seymour, Indiana, in my blue and white 1989 converted van. The conversions were needed because, as a diastrophic dwarf, I stand three feet two inches tall. Before it was converted, my arms and legs would not have been nearly long enough to reach the pedals, steering wheel, or controls, but the conversion allowed me to travel thousands of miles up and down the road to manage my many businesses and my life.

When I arrived in Nashville I got out of the van through automatic doors that opened to allow a hydraulic lift to lower my Rascal electric scooter to the ground. Then I promptly checked into the Renaissance Hotel. I went out to dinner by myself, then set my alarm for three thirty A.M. and went to bed very early.

The next morning I was nervous, anxious, and excited all at the same time. Part of my anxiety came from not knowing what was going to happen. I felt out on a limb, as if I was jumping off a bridge without a safety net. Questions such as “Where will I use the bathroom?” and “Who will help me into my wardrobe?” rushed through my mind. These were questions that followed me every day of my life, questions that most people do not have to deal with.

I drove my scooter several blocks through the deserted early morning streets of Music City and arrived at the pedestrian footbridge a few minutes ahead of my four thirty A.M. call time. I quickly found out what a “call time” was, and about the concept of “hurry up and wait.”

You couldn’t miss the location; tents and floodlights were set up, and the smells of hot coffee and doughnuts were overpowering. At that time of the morning it was extremely cold, so I got a cup of coffee, introduced myself to the crew, and met some of my fellow cast members. The first person I met on set was Sarah Darling, now a rising star, who played the part of the mannequin.

Up to that point, the only person involved with the shoot that I knew was John Rich. John is the former colead singer and bass player for the band Lonestar. He also had a budding solo career. We’d met years earlier at Fan Fair (now called the CMA Music Festival). This event was, and still is, country music’s premier annual fan gathering, and there, John and I had become friends.

When John hooked up with his friend Kenny Alphin, whom people call Big Kenny, they formed the duo Big & Rich. In late winter earlier that year I had gotten an unexpected and thrilling e-mail from John. He asked if I could appear in their first music video. Could I? Let me think . . . I believe my exact reply was, “When and where?”

I had to rearrange my schedule to make the shoot. This was difficult because the date kept changing. The day the shoot was finally set in stone happened to be the same day there was an open call in Alabama with the QVC network. I had intended to pitch my fledgling spice and seasonings product, Phat Freddie’s, there. But I knew in my gut that appearing in this video was the opportunity of a lifetime. I didn’t want to miss it.

Instead of going to Alabama, I endured both freezing-cold and blisteringly hot temperatures, long waits, and a chaotic swarm of people—and I loved every second of it. At the final wrap party, which was held at Fontanel, the former home of the legendary Barbara Mandrell and now one of Nashville’s public landmarks, I had the opportunity to spend more time with John and Big Kenny, and also with their friend the then-up-and-coming country star Gretchen Wilson. I also hung out with Cowboy Troy, James Otto, and the rest of the MuzikMafia, a modern-day group of singers, artists, and musicians who pushed country music’s boundaries to its limits. It was all quite a thrill.

When I look back, even I have to admit that the circumstances that brought it all together were both amazing and divine.



I WAS BORN July 27, 1974, the first child of Steve and Janet Gill. My dad worked third shift for a company called Cummins, in their plant that made diesel engines. During the day Dad had a dump truck and backhoe that he used in his excavating company. My mom was a first-grade schoolteacher and taught for nine years before I was born. There were no ultrasounds back then so until I was delivered, no one knew that I was a dwarf. As you can imagine, my arrival was surprising and caused quite a bit of confusion. But as you’ll read, my family adapted quite readily to this unexpected transition in their life.

Along with being a dwarf, I had a cleft palate, clubfeet, scoliosis, and, as is common to diastrophic dwarves, shortened fingers and limbs, and cauliflower ears. To top it off, I was the first dwarf that our family doctor, Bill Blaisedell, had ever assisted into the world.

Back then Schneck Memorial Hospital in Seymour, Indiana, did not have the capability to handle a newborn with my medical needs, which were not fully known at the time of my birth. While my mom stayed in Seymour at the hospital, I was rushed to Riley Children’s Hospital in Indianapolis, more than an hour’s ambulance ride north. A caring nurse rode with me, and Riley was where I spent my first several weeks. I know my mom was worried sick about me, and not being able to be at my side during my first few days had to have been terrible for her.

Dr. Blaisedell once said in an interview for a video documentary that I produced that he had a lot of concerns about me from the moment I was born. “From the very get-go, it was obvious there would be very big health problems with Fred,” he said, “but I have to give credit to his parents because they both jumped right in and did whatever they had to do to give Fred everything he needed to have a shot at doing something with his life.” As of this writing, this documentary has yet to be released.

And I do have some amazing parents. In fact, my...