Ladies and Gentlemen, Johnny Carroll

One salient fact has been overlooked by the Rockabilly Hall of Fame and by all others who have written about Johnny Carroll. The date of December 1, 1986 was proclaimed, by the City of Fort Worth, to be designated as "Johnny Carroll Day" in Fort Worth, Texas, in recognition of his role as an international ambassador of good will for the city during his rockabilly tours of Europe. The day was capped off with a special midnight showing, at a downtown Fort Worth theater, of the 50's rock and roll movie "Rock Baby Rock It!" starring Johnny Carroll, which had been recently rediscovered in an old Texas film archive.

In the early fifties, when the terms "rhythm & blues" and "country and western" had not yet been called, there was only "pop" music (Frank Sinatra; Lawrence Welk) and "hillbilly" music (Hank Williams; Jimmy Rodgers). The blues, then called "race" music (BB King; Hank Ballard), was on most Fort Worth jukeboxes but was hard to find at the retail level, and WAS NOT PLAYED by any radio station, other than small, ethnically-owned stations such as KNOK in Fort Worth. Rock and Roll (a term coined in 1954 by disc jockey Alan Freed), was just beginning to arise out of "race" music and, since it was also performed by "colored people", was not considered legitimate music by mainstream radio stations. Fortunately, this viewpoint is now history. The term "rock and roll" was not initially applied to Caucasian artists. Elvis Presley, Bill Haley and the Comets and Carl Perkins were, in early performances, promoted as "rockabilly" acts.

Rockabilly is one of those iconoclastic terms usually inspired by statements of ridicule coming from ESTABLISHMENT record producers and A&R people, standing in studio control rooms and thinking "What IS THAT? It ain't any music I ever heard!" I can imagine a New York producer of the 1980's, faced with an auditioning young group, saying, in derision, "whaddya call that, Rhythm And Prose?" and a serious, fast-thinking young entertainer coming back with "Yeah, man, R.A.P.". I can also imagine some A&R guy in 1954 Nashville saying "sounds like rocked-up hillbilly to me…" Rocked-up billy? Yeah, ROCKABILLY! The term was only in common usage for a year or so before being swept aside by the more descriptive term "rock and roll. Rockabilly was given new life by European record collectors and retro music fans who, in the early 1970's, began seeking out the original artists and their recordings. This interest spawned a new generation of young rockabilly artists from around the world as well as a crop of new songs to fill out the genre.

Rockabilly stardom was only a small part of Carroll's life. On a day - to - day basis, He was entertainment manager for the Cellar, an equally legendary Texas nightclub chain. I could write a good bit about the Cellar (you may have heard it mentioned as the place where Secret Service agents partied the night before the JFK assassination), but here I'll talk about it only as it concerns Johnny Carroll.

The Cellar club began life, about 1958, under a hotel at 1111 Houston Street in Fort Worth. Sometime in '61, it was relocated to 10th and Main, in a basement under a liquor store, and in '64 moved to an upstairs location further up Main St, over an arcade. Subsequently, owner Pat Kirkwood also opened and operated CELLAR clubs in San Antonio, Houston and Dallas, and Johnny Carroll was CEO (Chief Entertainment Official) in each one. In August of 1962, Carroll hired me as his first full-time staff musician. I was a guitar player, but Johnny hired me as a drummer because I had been sitting in with him on drums (the Cellar had house drums set up) and he liked the way I played them. The pay wasn't much but the girls made up for it. There were a lot of girls and all of them liked musicians. With fringe benefits like that, plus getting paid to play music, for a while I felt as though I'd found the promised land.

In the midst of a turbulent career as a rock and roll star, after completing a national tour and performing the starring role in the movie "Rock Baby Rock It" (a bigger cult favorite than "Blackboard Jungle" among true rockers), Johnny Carroll (a record company spelling of "Carrell") had disagreements with his band and with Warner Bros. Records. With characteristic "teen rebel" flair, which record companies call "an uncontrollable personality", He told them all to stuff it and bought into the Cellar, a Fort Worth "beatnik" club, and made it his home. He became known as "The Choir Director" and was responsible for, and in total command of everything and everyone on The Bandstand (It wasn't called a stage, it was always "The Bandstand" (capitalized) as in "waitress to The Bandstand, please!"). By the time the Cellar moved to the upstairs location over the arcade at 509 Main Street, in 1964, Carroll was evolving his Bandstand to what it would remain from then on: Solid 2'x20' knee-high table in front (for the dancing girls) and house-owned lights, microphones, amps and instruments: Ludwig full drum set; Fender Dual-Showman bass amp and Fender Precision bass; Fender Stratocaster guitar; three Fender guitar amps with JBL speakers; Dual Showman-powered PA system; lights, red and blue floods, a strobe and six individual spotlights, all controllable from a stage box. Johnny had his back - room repair shop and his mandate: The Music Must Never Stop! For fifteen years, from 7PM 'til 5AM, 7 nights a week, Johnny Carroll made sure that it never did.

In 1960, Johnny began dating Sharon, a waitress at the Cellar, and on May 6, 1960 he and Sharon were married in a midnight ceremony held at the original Cellar at 1111 Houston street in Ft. Worth. In April of 1961 Sharon gave birth to a son they named Shawn Robbin. They tried for two but the fates were against them. In December of 1962 their daughter-to-be was stillborn, a tragic and traumatic event that pierced the heart of their love for each other and contributed to their divorce in 1966. Afterward, Sharon and John remained friends and shared in rearing their son Shawn, who presented them with a grandson, Shawn Junior, born in September of 1978.

If someone in the audience complained too loud or too long, Johnny would send someone over to SMACK THEM IN THE HEAD AND THROW THEM OUT THE DOOR, and woe to anyone foolish enough to actually strike a musician at the Cellar. Such a person was guaranteed a five-eighths stomping (That's just a LITTLE worse than being beat half to death) BEFORE being thrown out the door. I can bear personal witness to this: in one fight, one night, (1963) I was knocked down, and by the time I jumped up and walked across the room, the deed was done and the guy who had hit me looked so bad I didn't even bother to kick him. I don't think he would have felt it! I think I can safely say that the Cellar was the only place I ever saw where a musician could walk tall and crack wise without risking dire physical damage from the boss or some barfly. That made for great peace of mind and was a definite enhancement to creativity and originality in the music, for which the Cellar became well known. Majority owner Pat Kirkwood didn't much like musicians, but he knew they drew girls and girls were good, he liked girls, so he left the music and the musicians to Johnny Carroll, and saw to it that he had a free hand.

JC's control of The Bandstand was never successfully disputed. He was, first and foremost, a PERFORMER. He could take control of an audience and manipulate them as he wished, drunk or sober, angry or happy, no matter his own condition, JC could bring the audience or push them away, at his whim and he didn't mind proving it. If a band in the Cellar was getting no respect from a rowdy audience, Johnny could walk on stage, pick up an out-of-tune guitar and rip out an excruciatingly loud but mercifully abbreviated version of "Malaguena" and bring the house down. He'd walk off to a standing ovation, leaving the band with AN AUDIENCE THAT'S NOW PAYING ATTENTION - DON'T DROP THE BALL, GUYS! But if a group had drawn his ire, watch out! He would walk on in the middle of their set, pick up a guitar and deliberately perform so badly that the audience would all leave, then he'd walk off, leaving that band with an empty house. He could care less about the loss of revenue - Johnny would make his point, no matter what. Though he had a lot of ability as a guitar player, he did not take the instrument seriously in his performance. He once told me "I use the guitar as a stage prop, a part of my act. I can play it pretty well, but I don't have to, it's more effective as a flashy prop!" Johnny knew something that many musicians never learn: he knew what business he was in - the ENTERTAINMENT business, which has little or nothing to do with music or musicianship. He knew that most people listen with their eyes, not their ears, and he knew how to exploit that fact to his advantage. The musicians that JC hired to work in the Cellar were usually very highly skilled on their instruments and very serious about "their music". All but a few disliked and downtalked Johnny Carroll, but they COULD NOT outperform him, and most never realized that he always MANIPULATED them to TRY to outperform him. He didn't need their friendship because he knew that musicians only PRETEND to be friends, that even within a group, they constantly COMPETE with each other for the public's attention.

The courts eventually held that the shooting was justifiable and the manager was not charged. Johnny was taken to the hospital and came out alive, but his life was forever changed by the incident. That was the last time JC came to harm in the Cellar, but not the end of his physical problems.

In 1975, after the Cellar had closed it's doors forever, Johnny was asked, by Ronny Weiser of Rolling Rock Records, to record a tribute to singer Gene Vincent, who had died in 1971. The result was "Black Leather Rebel" a record which re-ignited JC's rockabilly career and took him to Europe on many successful club and concert tours. About this same time, Johnny met Judy Lindsey, a model and Miss Texas runner-up. Judy wanted to be a singing star and Johnny decided to try and help her be one. They formed a band, called it the "Hotshots" and played nightclubs and hotels and Holiday Inns across the U.S., and from then on Judy also accompanied Johnny on his European tours. They formed a record label of their own and began, in the early eighties, to release 45rpm records of Judy's recordings, but Johnny spent far more of his own money on promotion than their company earned in record sales.

In general, offstage, JC was a straight up business oriented type of guy, and he didn't really drink much when he wasn't performing. He was friendly, given to outrageous humor, including horrid puns, and he constantly picked out mistakes in movies and news reports. His hobby was the universe-at-large, and he'd latch onto a new discovery with great tenacity, conveying his interest to those close to him. He was a voracious reader who enjoyed history, biographies, science fiction and mystery/spy novels. He'd watch old movies on TV, but I never knew him to do other recreational activities of any kind, except for dove hunting, which was more social than recreational. Every year, on the opening weekend of dove season, John would host the Cellar Crew Opening Day Hunt at his family farm in Godley. There were never many birds killed. The primary reason for the gathering was drinking and talking, catching up. Old friends and employees who had not been to the Cellar in YEARS would always show up for the Opening Day Hunt.

Johnny maintained contact with many entertainment industry friends he'd met in earlier days, people like Willie Nelson, George Carlin, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard, of ZZ Top. He and Willie were friends from their first meeting. Again, from Tena, " I saw it when it happened. Willie was beginning to do his own songs and JC wanted to hear this strange sounding man who used such unusual words and phrases in his songs. We went to some small Fort Worth joint where he was performing. JC was blown away and at the end of the night walked toward Willie, grinning and holding his arms out. He said something like, "Willie Nelson, I really dig what you do to a song, man. I’m…" Willie cut him off, grinning with equal pleasure. He finished JC’s sentence – said, "You are Johnny Carroll! Man, I have every record you’ve ever done." They were touching each other, laughing, their eyes were shining. Willie was almost boyish looking, clean shaven, shiny short hair, clothed in a suit (well, so was JC). Johnny told Willie how great he was and Willie told Johnny how great he was – they were completely oblivious to anyone else around."

One night in Las Vegas Johnny somehow got tickets to a sold-out George Carlin show at one of the big hotels. Turned out they were front-row seats. At the end of his show, George Carlin looked down at JC and said "well, I see my old friend Johnny Carroll in the audience. John, please come backstage and visit with me, it's been too long." John went, but not before he'd honored a dozen or more autograph requests from George Carlin's audience. George knew that would happen, that's why he'd waited until his show was done to recognize Johnny.

The boys from ZZ Top would always call with tickets and backstage passes for John, whenever they played the DFW area. They were friends of mine, too, back in the Cellar days, but I never got any free tickets!

Johnny Carroll was intolerant of incompetence anywhere he found it. I remember a time in Houston, about 1968: there was a café called the "Dot Shop" a couple of blocks from the Cellar that stayed open all night. The Cellar people would go there for meals or to spend breaks away from the high noise level of the Cellar. One night, about 2 o'clock in the morning, I was in there on a break when Johnny came in and sat down in a booth across the room. The place was about half full. The waitress came and he ordered a burger, detailing what he wanted on it. When the waitress brought it, John was obviously displeased that it had not been prepared as he had asked, and the waitress was being unsympathetic. JC stood up, hurled the burger to the floor and loudly proclaimed "THE DOT SHOP IS NOW OFF LIMITS TO ALL CELLAR PERSONELL! ANY CELLAR EMPLOYEE SEEN HERE AFTER TONIGHT WILL BE FIRED AND BARRED!" and he stormed out the door. To the dismay of the waitress, I and EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ROOM got up and left, and that was the last time any of us ever went there. Shortly thereafter, the café began closing early because they no longer had any late-night business. Johnny rarely used the power of his position anywhere but in the Cellar, but when he did, it was usually to make the point that he and his Cellar people were not to be taken lightly!

JC had a problem in general with the customary lack of respect afforded entertainers by the people who employed them. One day in New Mexico, when we'd gotten paid for a Holiday Inn gig, Johnny was grousing about his bar bill. I recalled the old days at the Cellar, where musicians were NEVER charged for their drinks, and John said "Damn right, and here's why: people like us ARE NOT CUSTOMERS, people like us are THE REASON these clubs HAVE customers! Any club owner or bartender who RESPECTS entertainers ALWAYS serves them promptly and courtesy of the house!" When I thought about that, I realized that no bartender who gave me free drinks EVER made me WAIT for one!

I last saw Johnny Carroll alive at the "Tree House", a Ft. Worth night club which no longer exists. He seemed in good health and good spirits, but he confided to me that "something inside didn't feel right". A while later, I heard that he was in the hospital undergoing a liver transplant procedure and, when the transplant refused to "take", on February 18, 1995, Johnny Carroll died of liver failure in a Dallas, Texas hospital.

I saw some old friends at his funeral and we all agreed that we needed to stop meeting like this.

On Sunday night, April 30, 1995, at Feathers, a nightclub in Ft. Worth, a bunch of us who knew Johnny got together and did our best to sing him home.

Judy Lindsey started things off with a video of Johnny's triumphant performance, in Feb.'93, at the Hard Rock Cafe in Dallas just before his last tour of Germany and Greece in April, '93.

Next, Billy Buntin's band "Reno City Limits" played a fine country set and Billy related several stories about their days together in a rockabilly band.

Sharon Carrell, Johnny's first wife, recalled some vivid memories of early family life with Johnny and then longtime JC associates Mark and Arvel Stricklin let it roll like a big wheel through a hot blues set punctuated with tales of life in the Cellar and on the road with Judy and Johnny.

Judy presented a video montage of Johnny's life in photographs and then sang a nicely worded tribute song she had written entitled "You Left Me Here With His Blues". Rockabilly artist Gene Summers then took the stage and performed a spirited set of his own rockabilly hit recordings, to the delight of all.

The highlight of the evening came when Ray Sharpe, after performing a fine set of his own, introduced rockabilly legend Ronnie Dawson. Ronnie and his fine band "High Noon" provided an appropriately hard rocking finish for a fine and fitting memorial to our old friend Johnny Carroll. Lord rest his soul - he did it his way.