"It seems like a siege of disappointments and tragedies for the Opry," lamented Dottie West, Coca Cola's "Country Sunshine" girl. "Is it a dark cloud or what?"

      Within a matter of weeks, two Opry performers had been murdered, and only the night before, Tom T. Hall's house had burned.

      The controversy that swept over the 41-year-old Skeeter Davis' career began with the arrival in November of Bill Lowery's Christ Is the Answer Crusade, a caravan of 30 trucks and 200 Jesus people who pitched circus tents near downtown Nashville and spread out on the streets to proselytize the citizenry. On December 8th, between spots on the Saturday night Opry broadcast, Skeeter witnessed the arrests of 11 Crusade members at the 100 Oaks shopping center, where customers had complained of harassment.

      When she returned to the Opry, she introduced her spot by saying, "This is really something that I should share. I didn't ask our manager, but they've arrested 15 people just for telling people that Jesus loves them. And that really burdened my heart, so I thought I would sing you all this song." She then launched a rousing sing-along of "Amazing Grace."

      Retribution was quick. Lt. Robert Ezell, a Metro policeman in charge of Opry security, accosted her offstage and angrily demanded that she apologize. "I'm disgusted with you," he told her.

      The following Wednesday, Opry manager Bud Wendell called to inform her of her suspension. Wendell, who is continually described by the local flack as "affable," apparently underestimated the degree of controversy which he was generating, mostly by his refusal for two weeks to admit even that Skeeter was under suspension.

      "I'm not getting into any personalities at all," said Wendell, when the case was put before him. He said that there had been suspensions before but that they were "within the family." With this brush-off, accusations about WSM's broadcast policies lay unanswered.

      "I was suspened myself one time," recalled Johnny Cash, who is building a house in Jamaica this winter. "It was when I was taking pills. At the time, I broke some stage lights with a microphone. I wasn't reflecting a lot of credit on the Opry by my performance. I didn't appear again for three years.

      Generally, there was uneasy support for Wendell's decision among Opry performers I interviewed, perhaps because a lot of people consider the Jesus people to be a pain in the ass.

      "Those people at 100 Oaks," said Justin Tubb, an 18-year Opry regular, "definitely were not arrested for being Christians, but for bothering people."

      But then again, when Barbara Fairchild was saying, "I don't know if I agree with them suspending her," her manager interrupted angrily and demanded my credentials. "We can't be critical of the radio station while he's recording this," he scolded her.

      Roy Acuff, an Opry regular since the year zero, emerged as the company spokesman, as usual. "I definitely will not take sides with Skeeter, because she is working with the same people I am. I'm certainly proud of our radio station, WSM, and I'm proud of our police force. I think maybe Skeeter possibly just wasn't thinking."

      Essentially, Skeeter got no support from her country music brothers and sisters. The weekend after her canceled performance, however, 20 members of Lowery's Crusade picketed the Opry.

      "The devil runs Nashville," announced their spokesman.

      On Christmas Day, at the Crusade tent, where lonesome, hungry people were acceptingthe pubic invitation to enjoy a holiday dinner, Skeeter announced that she would tour with evangelist Lowery during the New Year's weekend, "since I'm not working with the Opry anyway."