Published Sunday, November 21, 1999, in the Herald-Leader
Profile Brian Littrell: The life of Brian
By Heather Svokos
Herald-Leader Pop Culture Writer
Ten-year-old Brian Littrell is singing into a flashlight, a pillow case peeled
back over his head, trying to simulate the look of long-haired rocker Jon
Bon Jovi. His brother, Harold, 13, is Richie Sambora, wailing on his electric
... tennis racket.
Brian Littrell recalls the old family photo with a fond laugh. ``My brother
was a big Bon Jovi fan,'' he said from his hotel room during the Backstreet
Boys' Cincinnati tour stop. ``We were jamming to some Bon Jovi and
enjoying life.
``We had a lot of good times. I never knew it would lead to this.''
Yes, to many other aspiring stadium rockers, the Bon Jovi wailfest might
have lingered as a blush-inducing memory. But for Littrell, it would be a
harbinger of the pop superstardom to come.
The Lexington native with Estill County cousin Kevin Richardson is part of
Backstreet Boys, who, for those who have been in Pago Pago for the last
three years, are a pop vocal quintet that has taken record sales, concert
attendance and fan worship to levels that make New Kids on the Block
look like a ragtag wedding band.
Rupp Arena dreamin'
In the early days of Backstreet, Littrell told a teen magazine his biggest
career goal was ``to play a sold-out show at Rupp Arena.''
Well, welcome home, Brian how'd ya like two?
``It's been a lifelong dream to come to Rupp Arena to perform,'' said
Littrell, 24. ``I just remember the feeling of being in that place. I'd go to
University of Kentucky games with my friends. Now everybody is going to
be coming to see us, so it's going to be a little different. ...
``I'm looking forward to all of my family that can be there. (When it comes
to professional achievements), nothing really impacts you until it hits home.
This is gonna hit home, big-time.''
When the hometown fans finally get to watch Littrell on stage, they'll see a
sweet young man who flashes a familiar smile, clutching his heart, oozing
enough nice-guy charisma to flood the arena.
He's widely (and endearingly) regarded as a scene-stealing hambone. At
Tates Creek High, he was the classic class clown, always on the ready with
an impression. One of his best, recall former choir buddies Eschelle King
and Leslie Carter, was Jim Carey's Fire Marshall Bill from In Living Color.
He'd muss his hair to achieve that singed look, curl his upper lip under until
it disappeared and then wheeze: ``Let me tell ya somethin'!''Carter
recalls his role as Rump in the school's production of Grease. ``He by
far stole the show,'' she said. ``There were these dance numbers where he
was just supposed to pop off a step, but he would do a full-fledged spread
eagle and just dive.''
A born performer if there ever was one, right?
Playing with heart
Well ... It might have been his destiny to become a Backstreet Boy, but the
youngest son of Jackie and Harold Littrell didn't exactly enter the world
doing a step ball-change and whistling a happy tune.
He wasn't a sad baby, his mother said, but solemn, and very quiet. He was
born with two holes in his heart and a heart murmur undiagnosed until he
was 6 weeks old. The affliction became more serious when he was 5. The
doctor's advice stuck with Jackie and Harold: ``Don't put him in a closet. If
you put limits on him, he'll start putting limits on himself.' ''
It was then that something changed in Brian. After a two-month stay at St.
Joseph Hospital, his behavior flip-flopped. ``It seemed like he laughed more
and played harder,'' Jackie said. ``He was rambunctious always into
something. He was always trying my patience.''
``If I told him not to go into the street, he would go to the edge of the yard
and put one foot in the street. He was a stinker,'' she smiled, clearly more
proud than miffed.
The little guy who loved sports was a scrapper, but he was never quite tall
enough to make the high school basketball team, which was crushing. ``I
was always counseling him, saying, `Maybe sports won't be your thing,' ''
his mother said. ``He would look at me like, `Yeah, right.' ''
Nor did he appreciate then one of the consequences of his health problems
having to repeat first grade.
``I was a little upset when my mom and dad held me back, but it was to my
benefit,'' Brian said. ``Being smaller, it helped with my confidence'' to be a
year older than his peers.
`Divine appointment'
He grew up in a family of golden throats that broke into harmony at the
drop of a hat, especially during the holidays. So, to reach his current career
path, it was only a matter of timing or as Jackie puts it, ``divine
appointment.''
Now, he just needed someone to harness his talent. Enter Barry Turner,
choir director for Tates Creek and Henry Clay high schools.
``The first time I heard him sing it was Edelweiss I heard this voice and I
said, `My God, what is this?' ``You know how a thrill can go through you
all of a sudden?''
Turner told Littrell he could make money singing. ``I was talking about
weddings and things. I had no clue he was going to take off like that. But
I'm not surprised.''
Not all signs pointed to a life of fame and fortune. Raised with strong
Christian beliefs, Littrell wanted to attend Cincinnati Bible College and
become a music minister, but he had to be a senior in high school to enroll.
Fortunately for the Jive record label and soon-to-be squealing girls all over
the planet, fate intervened.
On April 19, 1993, toward the end of his junior year, he was called out of
U.S. history class to take a call from cousin Kevin. There was a pop vocal
group forming in Orlando, and it needed a fifth.
That would mean leaving school before his senior year and that Mom and
Dad would have to let go of their 18-year-old son. The next day, after the
band's management promised Brian would finish his education, Littrell was
Orlando-bound.
``I didn't expect he would jump up and move away from me so quickly,''
Jackie Littrell said. ``Harold and I took him to the airport at 6 a.m. ... We
put him on the plane almost knowing ... when he stepped on there,'' she
struggled, allowing a few tears, ``that he wouldn't be coming back Brian
Littrell, the son.''
Fame, what's your name
And in a way, she was right. Six years later, the level of the Backstreet
Boys' fame is borderline frightening.
Brian hopes to be able to spend quality time with his family during the
group's stay in Lexington. ``I'm going to try to get in for Thanksgiving,'' he
said, ``try to get in a home-cooked meal'' and take in some football games
with his dad.
Anymore, that's not so easy.
When you're part of a pop culture phenomenon, everyone wants a piece of
you sometimes, that piece even includes a chunk of your family.
Because of unwelcome visits from fans in one case, two from Germany who
rode up to Anne Richardson's house in a cab the Littrells and the
Richardsons have had to move and change their phone numbers.
``It's kind of what you make of it,'' Brian said. ``Quick getaways, decoy
cars it's all part of it. There's a fine line because we're dedicated to the fans
and we know how successful they make you. At the same time, in your
private life, there are boundaries that people don't really understand. To
have people constantly think that you are their property and get a little too
touchy-feely, a little too demanding ... .''
But don't think he's one of those woe-is-me, life-is-such-a-drag celebrities.
``God has blessed my life in many, many, many ways,'' he said. Fame ``is
looked upon as so wonderful and it is not to downplay it, and the things it
has allowed me to do, but at the same time I still want to be able to have a
life.''
The pop-star life, though, hasn't stopped him from having a successful
relationship. Brian has been dating actress Leighanne Wallace for about two
years. They met on the shoot for the As Long as You Love Me video. ``It's
like with any other relationship,'' Littrell said. ``There are ups and downs,
but we respect what one another does. We prepared ourselves'' for a
long-distance relationship.
No matter the realm, his friends say he'll go the distance.
``It amazes me how far he's come,'' said King, his old choir buddy.
``Writing songs, playing guitar when all is said and done, he's going to come
out with a better understanding of himself.''
And with better acrobatic skills, no doubt. His brother, Harold Littrell III,
says it's hard to comprehend that the guy flying in a harness above
thousands of screaming fans is a family member.
But it all comes back home when he recalls the little brother who left his old
world behind on a leap of faith. When Brian was on his way to Florida for
the audition, he called his brother, worried he wouldn't be able to go
through with it.
``I told him to hang in there and be tough, it'll work out,'' Harold said. ``He
was just breaking away from home, so it was a little bit of a growing-up
shock. But he handled it greatly.''