Soul Survivors
By Elodie Pritchartt
The Spring of 2011 was hot, and the Mississippi River was
straining against the levees as a massive surge of water — snowmelt from the
North — made its way toward the Gulf of Mexico, a flood the size of which
hadn’t been seen since the 1920s. The river pushed more than just water. Deer, possums, alligators and pit vipers fled
the rising waters and I thought of Randy Newman’s song, “Louisiana 1927.”
Rained
real hard and it rained for a real long time
Six feet of water in the streets of
Evangeline
The only difference this time was the lack of rain, and
while the prison crews in their black-and-white striped jail suits worked ‘round
the clock to fortify and raise the levees, sprinklers irrigated the corn and
soybean fields on the other side. Who ever heard of a drought and a flood at
the same time? It’s always some damned
thing.
They almost called the whole thing off, but the levees held. And when Ferriday, Louisiana, hosted its
second Soul Survivors Festival, it was a triumph. We were all survivors.
Gathered under the cool shade of Rockabilly Plaza, locals
and visitors from New York, St. Louis and beyond were there to enjoy the music of
Ferriday’s oldest Soul Survivors who all had one thing in common: Haney’s Big
House.
Li'l Poochie |
It was at Haney’s where trombonist Pee Wee Whittaker would
sneak a little boy named Jerry Lee Lewis into the back door so he could hear
and see the performers whose sounds would influence his own boogie-woogie and
rockabilly styles on the piano.
Hezekiah Early |
We had gathered to hear and honor these men on that muggy,
fecund Louisiana day. Festival organizer
Tommy Polk had arranged to give them each an award, after which we all settled
in for a treat and a bit of history in the making as it marked the first time
they had all played on stage together. The only one missing was Jimmy Anderson who, due
to health concerns, was unable to attend.
Elmo Williams |
Hezekiah Early, 77, is a vocalist who plays guitar, drums and harmonica. The son of a sharecropper he still owns his first guitar. He built it, himself, from a wooden cheese box his father brought home. He played society parties in Natchez, Mississippi, and in the house band at Haney’s. His recording of a blues album led to a gig at the 1984 World’s Fair followed by fourteen overseas tours — virtually all of Western Europe and Japan. He’s toured the United States, extensively, the largest performance on July 4, 1986, at the Smithsonian in Washington, DC, before 1.5 million people.
“It was so many people, it was frightening,” he recalled. “It was unpredictable.”
A far cry from the simple days as a sharecropper’s son
playing at picnics under the oaks.
YZ Ealey — his real name — learned to play on a guitar his
brother brought home in 1946 when YZ was nine years old. After his brother left
for Korea, YZ started playing at home with another brother, Melwin, a church
deacon, singing and performing religious songs, then later at parties in the
country playing rhythm and blues.
YZ Ealy |
They played clubs, high schools, and dignitary functions all
around the Miss-Lou (Misssissippi/Louisiana) area. During the same time, they were the house
band for three years at Haney’s Big House.
YZ has worked as a longshoreman in New Orleans, and on the
factory lines at Diamond International and Armstrong Tire & Rubber in
Natchez. But his fondest memories are of
Haney’s.
“People would come from far and near,” he said. “People who lived far away would always look
forward to going to Haney’s Big House.
It was fun. You could look up
while you’re playing and see one of your old friends that lives in Chicago, New
York, Memphis, California. You could
always see an old face. It added a joy
to your playing, you know?”
YZ’s favorite music is Country and Blues, his favorite
artists Little Milton and Albert King.
He loves the Blues, calling it “born music.”
“It’s so real,” he says.
“Because, you see, it started from slavery when all a person could do
was work. You had no privileges. You had
no other way to find contentment or satisfaction but just hum it out or sing it
out. And all that was natural. And anything that’s natural is real. You see?
“That’s a time of depression. But when you’re joyful it’s expressed the
same way. So that’s reality again. When
your heart aches, you express it the same way.
Reality again. Depression. Women.
Good times. That’s what the Blues is all
about. A sack full of reality.”
Gray Montgomery, a guitarist, drummer and harmonica player
is the only white man in the group, and at 84, also the oldest. And about to
become a newlywed. Life hasn’t slowed
him down.
He started playing when he was fourteen. A boy from Texas moved into town with a guitar
and a repertoire of songs and stole his girlfriend away.
“So I says, ‘Well, look at this,” he says in a gentle
Southern dialect. “ And I got me a gi-tah [sic].”
It was his brother’s guitar.
And it wasn’t long before he was the better player. He studied the older
men, in particular a black man who worked for his mother named George Jackson. They lived in a little house on the outskirts
of town next to five other houses occupied by blacks and a small juke joint —
the Airport Inn Grocery with a jukebox in the back playing Lightnin’ Hopkins
and Muddy Waters.
He says he can still hear George playing in the kitchen:
Dey’s a rabbit in a hollow log
Ain’t got no rabbit dog
Gone shoot him with my .44
‘fo day.
“He would pick it out and bend those strings and make that
Blues sound,” Montgomery says, demonstrating the twang of the strings with his
tongue.
As an adult, Montgomery played clubs in Natchez in a band
called Billy Tabbs & Western Swing Band for $5 a night. He also had a radio show.
“We needed a piano player at the radio show,” he says. “So one day Jerry Lee Lewis came over. But all he played was church music.”
So Montgomery hired him on as a drummer and hired a blind
black man named Paul Whitehead on piano.
He remembers one night, in particular.
An intoxicated man came up to the bandstand and asked Jerry Lee if
they’d play “Down Yonder.”
According to Montgomery, Jerry Lee told him they didn’t play
it.
“Don’t tell him we can’t play that,” Montgomery said.
“He’s just a drunk,” said Jerry Lee. “He’s crazy.”
“I said, ‘Jerry, without drunk, crazy people we wouldn’t
have a job.’ He didn’t like me much
after that.”
Although he never played at Haney’s, Montgomery played in
black juke joints all over Mississippi with Papa George Lightfoot.
“If you’re a musician, your race, color, origin, don’t
matter. I learned something real good about my life, being white and
associating with the black people. It
don’t take money, wealth, background….it don’t take any of that to make you
happy. I’ve seen so many black people
that didn’t have nothing, and they were happy.
They’d sing and laugh and slap their knees. Laughter is good medicine. You’ll live a long time if you laugh a lot.”
ferridaymusic.com
It works for him.
This year's Soul Survivor Festival takes place on May 26 in Ferriday. For more information, see the Soul Survivor's Facebook page as well as the website at www.ferridaymusic.com.
This year's Soul Survivor Festival takes place on May 26 in Ferriday. For more information, see the Soul Survivor's Facebook page as well as the website at www.ferridaymusic.com.
* This post dates from 2011. Soul Survival Festival is no longer being observed.