Read Online Raisin' Cain: The Wild and Raucous Story of Johnny Winter (Kindle Edition) by Mary Lou Sullivan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mary Lou Sullivan
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pretty good guy. Ole Pa told him to take care of me if I had any trouble. Ole Pa really took care of me. He died when I was still in high school—I hadn’t made it yet. That was tough. They voted Charlie Meyer out about the time I started going out to the whorehouses. And soon as I got used to goin’ to ’em, they closed them down. Tom James came down from Dallas and stopped everything ; he screwed up our whole town. I don’t know why he picked Beaumont to come down on, but he certainly did. He messed up a lot of stuff.”
Sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the groupies that accompany success as a musician hadn’t yet transpired for the young teenager, but he was on his way. Once he tasted fame and the spotlight—even in a small way—his days of paying for sex at brothels would be a distant memory.
Winning the Johnny Melody Contest, having a record on the radio, and playing school functions changed the way Johnny was treated. He had found acceptance, but more importantly, he had broadened his circle of friends, and tasted the success that would inspire him to pursue a career in music.
“Johnny didn’t have a lot of friends per se,” said Drugan. “His friends were musicians. People at school said things that hurt his feelings. Being an albino, he felt that he wasn’t accepted. But I didn’t see anything different about him. I was very open to bringing him into my web of friends, bringing him to their houses. Johnny was very shy and I broke him out of his shell by introducing him to my friends. He opened up and started talking to people when he went into rock ‘n’ roll.
“His classmates didn’t talk to him much until he played a school function. We were accepted after we played at the school, a sock hop, or talent contest in the auditorium. We played ‘Johnny B. Goode’ and they were floored completely.”
“Being treated badly in school changed as I got older,” says Johnny. “By the time I was in high school, things were different. I was playing in clubs and had a band. I wasn’t old enough to be in clubs, but I was going to clubs and had a whole different lifestyle. The high-school kids weren’t important to me anymore. Playing music was—playing gigs.”
Music gave Johnny that aura of cool that had eluded him during his childhood. He and Drugan went to school dances with their hair slicked back in pompadours à la Elvis Presley, sporting the sunglasses they wore at their Beaumont Country Club gig. “We thought that was the cool thing to do—like we were the Blues Brothers,” said Drugan with a laugh.
Determined to make his mark as a musician, Johnny promoted his new persona on band posters, calling himself Johnny “Cool Daddy” Winter. “As we grew older, he had this big pompadour, the sunglasses, the guitar, and the girls,” said Edgar. “Johnny was living proof an albino could be cool.”
One of Johnny’s coolest gigs during that era was playing a drive-in theater in 1958 that featured the film Go Johnny Go. Large black letters on the drive-in marquee announced IN PERSON, JOHNNY WINTER along with the movie titles. It wasn’t quite Woodstock, but it was his first outdoor concert.
“We played on top of the drive-in theater—above the concession stand—before the show started,” said Drugan. “We had to push all our amplifiers up there. Johnny had a very heavy amp and I remember getting all the stuff up on a ladder to get on top of there. They had speakers set up so people could hear us, and everybody got out of their cars and came over to watch us play. It was a big thing—we got a lot of publicity.”
As leader of Johnny and the Jammers, Johnny fronted the band on vocals and guitar, booked the band, and handled the finances. “If we were lucky, we got ten dollars a man—five pieces—fifty bucks,” he said. “In 1959, that wasn’t bad.” It was a natural position for him and the other band members were comfortable with that arrangement.
“Johnny was a very
Sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the groupies that accompany success as a musician hadn’t yet transpired for the young teenager, but he was on his way. Once he tasted fame and the spotlight—even in a small way—his days of paying for sex at brothels would be a distant memory.
Winning the Johnny Melody Contest, having a record on the radio, and playing school functions changed the way Johnny was treated. He had found acceptance, but more importantly, he had broadened his circle of friends, and tasted the success that would inspire him to pursue a career in music.
“Johnny didn’t have a lot of friends per se,” said Drugan. “His friends were musicians. People at school said things that hurt his feelings. Being an albino, he felt that he wasn’t accepted. But I didn’t see anything different about him. I was very open to bringing him into my web of friends, bringing him to their houses. Johnny was very shy and I broke him out of his shell by introducing him to my friends. He opened up and started talking to people when he went into rock ‘n’ roll.
“His classmates didn’t talk to him much until he played a school function. We were accepted after we played at the school, a sock hop, or talent contest in the auditorium. We played ‘Johnny B. Goode’ and they were floored completely.”
“Being treated badly in school changed as I got older,” says Johnny. “By the time I was in high school, things were different. I was playing in clubs and had a band. I wasn’t old enough to be in clubs, but I was going to clubs and had a whole different lifestyle. The high-school kids weren’t important to me anymore. Playing music was—playing gigs.”
Music gave Johnny that aura of cool that had eluded him during his childhood. He and Drugan went to school dances with their hair slicked back in pompadours à la Elvis Presley, sporting the sunglasses they wore at their Beaumont Country Club gig. “We thought that was the cool thing to do—like we were the Blues Brothers,” said Drugan with a laugh.
Determined to make his mark as a musician, Johnny promoted his new persona on band posters, calling himself Johnny “Cool Daddy” Winter. “As we grew older, he had this big pompadour, the sunglasses, the guitar, and the girls,” said Edgar. “Johnny was living proof an albino could be cool.”
One of Johnny’s coolest gigs during that era was playing a drive-in theater in 1958 that featured the film Go Johnny Go. Large black letters on the drive-in marquee announced IN PERSON, JOHNNY WINTER along with the movie titles. It wasn’t quite Woodstock, but it was his first outdoor concert.
“We played on top of the drive-in theater—above the concession stand—before the show started,” said Drugan. “We had to push all our amplifiers up there. Johnny had a very heavy amp and I remember getting all the stuff up on a ladder to get on top of there. They had speakers set up so people could hear us, and everybody got out of their cars and came over to watch us play. It was a big thing—we got a lot of publicity.”
As leader of Johnny and the Jammers, Johnny fronted the band on vocals and guitar, booked the band, and handled the finances. “If we were lucky, we got ten dollars a man—five pieces—fifty bucks,” he said. “In 1959, that wasn’t bad.” It was a natural position for him and the other band members were comfortable with that arrangement.
“Johnny was a very
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