LADIES LOVE OUTLAWS | WAYLON, WILLIE, JOHNNY, KRIS & COMPANY

 

“I’ve always been crazy– but it’s kept me from going insane.”

–Waylon Jennings

 

No one personified the hard-living, honky tonk, maverick life as much as Waylon Jennings did. Born in Littlefield, Texas, in 1937, he played bass with rock-and-roll legend Buddy Holly in the 1950s, roomed and misbehaved with Johnny Cash in the 1960s, and had dozens of top-ten hits along the way—including 1978’s “Mama Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.” But it was as an “Outlaw” that Waylon made his biggest contribution. Along with co-conspirators Willie Nelson, Tompall Glaser, Billy Joe Shaver, and others, the Outlaws streamlined arrangements, eschewed clichéd lyrics, and modernized country music by looking back to its soulful roots and mixing in a shot of rock-and-roll.  Waylon Jennings, Performance Center, Cambridge, MA, 1976  –Image by Henry Horenstein

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Circa 1974, College Station, TX — Willie Nelson thrills a young crowd 40,000 strong as he opens his ‘July 4th Picnic’ in College Station, Texas. Crowds of over 150,000 were expected during the three day weekend music fest. — Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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Circa 1969, Cummins, Arkansas — Singer Johnny Cash as he chats with some of the inmates and guests during his visit to Cummins Prison in Arkansas.  April 10, 1969. — Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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Circa 1972 — Kris Kristofferson & Karen Black (she starred in the iconic films– Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces, The Great Gatsby, The Day of the Locust, and Nashville). — Image by © John Springer Collection/CORBIS

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Circa 1975, Boston, MA — Jerry Lee Lewis a.k.a. “The Killer” is in the Rock-and-Roll Hall of Fame, but his roots are deep country and his life pure soap opera. He set his stage piano on fire, married his thirteen-year-old cousin, and endured health problems and family tragedies. The story was told in 1989’s Great Balls of Fire with Dennis Quaid as The Killer. After his rock career died, Lewis was a constant presence on the country chart in the 1960s and 1970s. — Image by © Henry Horenstein/Corbis

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Circa 1970, North Hollywood, CA — Waylon Jennings Performing at the Palomino Club — Image by © Michael Ochs Archives/Corbis

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Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings on the verge of starting something big, at the Bull Creek Party Barn, Austin, Texas, 1975.  –Image by Scott Newton. 

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The rugged profile of the legendary Man in Black — Johnny Cash

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Willie Nelson signs an autograph for a young admirer.

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Circa 1981, Las Vegas — Singer/songwriter/actor/heartthrob Kris Kristofferson with his Strat on his lap. — Image by © Douglas Kirkland/CORBIS

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“Billy Joe Shaver may be the best songwriter alive today”  –Willie Nelson

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9/15/1976 — Kris Kristofferson and Johnny Cash perform a duet on “The Johnny Cash Show.” –Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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Epic shot of Outlaw Country music legend Waylon Jennings

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Waylon Jenning & Johnny Cash back in 1974

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Circa 1970s– Music legend Johnny Cash –Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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Circa 1978, New York, NY — Country-Western stars Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings celebrate at a party at the Rainbow Room in honor of their new album, “Waylon and Willie.” — Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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Johnny Cash playing San Quentin Prison. That is truly a bare-bones band set-up. Checkout the anemic lookin’ drum rig.

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Circa 1981 — Kris Kristofferson Pounding a Punching Bag. — Image by © Douglas Kirkland/CORBIS

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Circa 1985, Champaign, Illinois– Singer-songwriters Neil Young, Willie Nelson, and John Mellencamp stand together on stage at Farm Aid. –Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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Circa 1958, London — Jerry Lee Lewis, the American rock and roll singer and pianist. — Image by © Hulton-Deutsch Collection/CORBIS

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Waylon Jennings & Johnny Cash performing live.  I love Waylon’s ol’ custom Fender Tele.  Epic.

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Circa 1976, Dallas, TX– Country music legend Willie Nelson –Image by © Philip Gould/CORBIS

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Original caption: 5/26/1958-London, England- It was confirmed today by Mr. J.W. Brown, who is the thirty one year old father of Myra, the child bride of the Rock & Roll singer Jerry lee Lewis, who is appearing in this country, that she is only 13 years old and not 15 as was stated when they first arrived in Britain. Mr. Brown, a bass player in the Jerry Lee Lewis Group touring in this country, said he did not know about the wedding when it happened, but that she is know married with his permission. Lewis is shown walking out of the Westbury Hotel where he is staying during his visit to London. — Image by © Bettmann/Corbis

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1970s, New York, NY — Willie Nelson performing on “Saturday Night Live” — Image by © Owen Franken/Corbis

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Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison.

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Circa 1958– Standing atop a piano, rock ‘n’ roll singer Jerry Lee Lewis gives an enthusiastic performance at the Cafe de Paris in New York City. — Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

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A handsome young Willie Nelson, sans his signature scruff and ponytail.

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Circa 1971– Kris Kristofferson, posing shirtless for his female fans. –Image by © Condé Nast Archive/Corbis

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Circa 1973, Reed Ferry, New Hampshire– Hank Williams Jr., son of Hank Williams Sr., was already a seasoned performer when he first played on the Grand Ole Opry at age 13.  A few years later Hank Jr. recorded “Standing in the Shadow (of a Very Famous Man).”  However Junior proved to have considerable staying power as a singer, songwriter, and entertainer.  He has had dozens of hit records melding honky tonk with Southern rock. –Image by © Henry Horenstein/Corbis

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Mid 1950s, Texas– A young Willie Nelson is second from the left. — Image by © Michael Ochs Archives/Corbis

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Billy Joe Shaver

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From Billy Joe Shaver’s “Honky Tonk Hero: An Autobiography”–

“I was not even born yet when my father first tried to kill me.

It was June and the evening light had started to fade, but it was still hotter than nine kinds of hell. We were outside of Corsicana, a little cotton town in northeast Texas, and I was in my mother’s belly, two months from entering the world.

Buddy Shaver was convinced that my mother, Victory, was cheating on him. That was bullshit, and he probably knew it. But he’d been drinking. My father was half-French, half-Blackfoot Sioux, and one-hundred-percent mean. He drank a lot, and the booze didn’t mix well with his Indian blood. You know there are some guys who are just born naturally strong, with big shoulders and a chiseled upper body even though they never work a lick at it? That was my father, and my mother didn’t have a chance.

It’s just a story I’ve heard, told by family members who don’t enjoy the retelling. But I can see it as clearly as if I was there. They were standing next to a small stock tank with black, still water. It was the middle of nowhere, with no roads or houses in sight. Who knows what he told her to get her out there, or whether she knew what was coming when they stopped there? He held nothing back, yet his cold gray eyes showed no emotion as he beat her within an inch of her life. When she was down, he stomped her with his cowboy boots until she stopped struggling. Then he tossed her limp body into the water like a sack of potatoes. Years later, when I was a grown man, my momma couldn’t stand to be around me when I wore cowboy boots— she never could forget what they did to her that night.

Momma laid there for hours until an old Mexican man showed up to water his cattle. Even though he knew my kinfolk pretty well, he didn’t recognize her at first. He thought she was dead. But she spoke to him through the bruises and the blood, and he threw her over the back of his horse and carried her home.

The violence of that night set the stage for my childhood: It’s the reason my father left, it’s the reason my mother didn’t want me, and it’s the reason I went to live with my loving grandmother. In many ways, I think that night is the reason I write country songs.

When you get right down to it, country music is essentially the blues, and that night introduced me to the blues. In the years since then, they’ve never left me. I’ve lost parts of three fingers, broke my back, suffered a heart attack and a quadruple bypass, had a steel plate put in my neck and 136 stitches in my head, fought drugs and booze, spent the money I had, and buried my wife, son, and mother in the span of one year.

But I’m not here to complain or ask for pity. Life is hard for everybody, just in different ways. I’m not proud of my misfortune— I’m proud of my survival. For years, my family kept a bundle of life insurance on me because they were sure I would be the first to go. But as I write this, at sixty-four years of age, I’m still here and they are all gone.

The question is— why?  That’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

Throughout my career as a songwriter, I’ve just written songs about me— the good and the bad, the funny and the sad. I’ve written songs about other people, but I don’t sing other people’s songs. They’re just little poems about my life, and I’ve never pretended they were anything more. Despite all my ups and downs, I’ve never been to therapy or rehab or any of that stuff. The songs are my therapy.

But after my shows, people always come up to me and thank me for writing those songs. They tell me about their lives, and how a song of mine helped them through a tough patch or made them smile during a difficult time. Sometimes they say I inspired them— that if I can make it through my life, they can damn sure get through theirs. When we’re done talking, I give them a hug and tell them I love them. I know exactly where they are coming from.

My point is, it’s truly a miracle I survived that night by that stock tank, and I don’t mean that the way most people say it— like it’s a lucky break. I think God allowed me to live. He wanted me to tell my story.”

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