by Shaun Usher
JANIS JOPLIN LIVES!
JANIS JOPLIN TO HER PARENTS
April 1967
When she wrote this excited letter home in 1967, 24-year-old Janis Joplin had been the front woman of Big Brother and the Holding Company, a band from Haight-Ashbury, San Francisco, for close to a year, and things were finally coming together: a record deal with a small label, a comfortable wage, a new apartment and a steady boyfriend all contributing to the good mood. But it was soon to intensify, as just two months later her star would rise to heights previously unimagined thanks to a jaw-dropping performance at the Monterey International Pop Festival – a now legendary gathering that also played host to Jimi Hendrix and Otis Redding, and which resulted in Joplin’s band being signed by Columbia Records, her voice destined for greatness.
Behind the scenes, however, she was walking a tightrope from which she would ultimately fall: an addiction to heroin that began long before her ascent to fame. On October 4th, 1970, three years after this letter was written, Janis Joplin was found dead in her hotel room.
Janis Joplin in Golden Gate Park after a Big Brother and the Holding Company performance, 1968
April 1967
Dear Mother, family
Things are going so good for us & me personally I can’t quite believe it! I never ever thought things could be so wonderful! Allow me to explain. First of all, the group — we’re better than ever (please see enclosed review from S.F. Examiner) and working all the time. Just finished 3 weeks straight engagements, 6 nights a week & we’re booked up week-ends for well over a month. And we’re making a thousand or over for a week-end. For single nights we’re getting from $500-$900. Not bad for a bunch of beatniks, eh? And our reputation is still going uphill. It’s funny to watch — you can tell where you are by the people that are on your side. Y’know, the scene-followers, the people “with the finger on the pulse of the public.” One of the merchants on Haight St. has given all of us free clothes (I got a beautiful blue leather skirt) just because 1) she really digs us & 2) she thinks we’re going to make it & it’ll be good publicity. Our record is enjoying a fair reception — much better than our first one which was much, much better. We made #29 in Detroit but we don’t really know what’s happening because we never hear from Mainstream. It’s a long & involved story but we really feel like we’ve been used & abused by our record co & we’d like to get out of the contract but don’t know whether we can. We talked to a lawyer about it & he seemed fairly negative & we can’t even get ahold of our record co. to talk about it. So until further news, we’re hung up. There’s a slim possibility we might go to Europe & play this summer. There’s a hippie boat going back and forth & rock bands get free passage if they play on the way over. And Chet, head of the Family Dog, is trying to organize dances over there & if he does, we’d have a place to work. Probably won’t work but it sure would be groovey. Speaking of England, guess who was in town last week — Paul McCartney!!! (he’s a Beatle). And he came to see us!!! SIGH Honest to God! He came to the Matrix & saw us & told some people that he dug us. Isn’t that exciting!!!! Gawd, I was so thrilled — I still am! Imagine — Paul!!!! If it could only have been George. . . . Oh, well. I didn’t get to see him anyway — we heard about it afterwards. Why, if I’d known that he was out there, I would have jumped right off the stage & made a fool of myself.
Now earlier, I spoke of how well things are going for me personally — it’s really true. I’m becoming quite a celebrity among the hippies & everyone who goes to the dances. Why, last Sunday we played a Spring Mobilization for Peace benefit & a simply amazing thing happened. As the boys were tuning, I walked up to the front of the stage to set up the microphones &, as I raised the middle mike up to my mouth, the whole audience applauded! Too much! And then as we’re getting ready to play, a girl yelled out “Janis Joplin lives!” Now you can’t argue with that, and they clapped again. Also, a rock publication named WORLD COUNTDOWN had a collage on its cover using photographs of important personages in & about the scene & I’m in there. Also they’re bringing out a poster of me! Maybe you’ve read in Time magazine about the personality posters. They’re big, very big photographs, Jean Harlow, Einstein, Belmondo, Dylan, & Joplin. Yes, folks, it’s me wearing a sequined cape, thousands of strings of beads & topless. But it barely shows because of the beads. Very dramatic photograph & I look really beautiful!! If it wouldn’t embarrass you, I’ll send you one. I’m thrilled!! I can be Haight-Ashbury’s first pin-up.
Speaking of Haight-Ashbury, read the enclosed article from LOOK magazine. There’ve been lots of articles written about the scene here. Newsweek has had two & this one. And even the Chronicle — they’ve all had articles with more understanding than the one in Time. As a matter of fact, I just plain quit reading it because of that article — not because I was mad. Because I was aware of how distorted they were & I figured they were probably that wrong about everything. I really am not social critic enough to know/discuss what is going on, but in answer to your question — Yes, they are our audience & we’re hoping they can turn on the rest of the country because then we’d be nation-wide. We’d be the Monkees! Well, at any rate, a good article.
Okay, on to news: For one thing we’ve gotten a raise — the guys with wives were feeling constrained, so now we get $100 a week. Good heavens.
Second in importance, I have a new apartment. Really fine!! Two big rooms, kitchen, bathroom & balcony. And I’m right across the street from the park! You can’t really understand living there with a yard, but here you can go 10-20 blocks without ever seeing a living plant and I just look out my window or step out on my balcony & I’ve got fresh air & trees & grass!! So wonderful, sigh. My new address is 123 Cole St., S.F. Still in the Haight-Ashbury. Have lots of plans for the place — two rooms need painting but I may just end up hanging stuff up on the walls. I’ve sort of got the front room fixed up now & it’s really nice to live in. SIGH! See what I mean, about things going my way? Also, I have a boyfriend. Really nice. He’s head of Country Joe and the Fish, a band from Berkeley. Named Joe McDonald, he’s a Capricorn like me, & is 25 & so far we’re getting along fine. Everyone in the rock scene just thinks it’s the cutest thing they’ve ever seen. It is rather cute actually. Speaking of boyfriends, I’ve been hearing from John again. He’s written several letters. For some reason I get the feeling he’s planning on coming out here & is sort of putting out feelers.
Next, guess what (special for Dad) I’ve done — I’ve quit smoking!!! Still want one now & then but it’s been about a month now. I felt it was just too hard on my voice. I’d been smoking for 10 yrs! I got a real bad cold & bronchitis & I just couldn’t smoke for about a week & when I got well, I refused to start again. I may break down but I hope not. This is really better for me.
More news, George is really getting to be a fine dog. Learning things every day. Today he learned the hard way not to run across the street to the park by himself — he got hit by a car. But the vet said he wasn’t hurt very badly — bruised & scared. Poor thing, he’s just moping around with a very paranoid look on his face.
I’m having a few clothes made for me now — had a beautiful dress made out of a madras bed spread & now she’s working on one out of green crepe with a very low V neckline. I’ve been making things out of leather lately. Made a beautiful blue & green Garbo hat & pair of green shoes.
I’m also sending our new promo picture. Not very flattering of me but a very strong picture. Pretty good looking group, eh?
Really enjoyed seeing the pictures of all of you. Looking beautiful, Mother. And Laura looks really cute! Is her dress white or silver? And I’ve never seen Mike look so charming. Must be the Big Brother T shirt.
Now, please let me know when you are coming. Oh, I have so many places to take you to & show you! But we’ll be working so let me know as soon as you can your plans. Well, I guess that’s it for now. Write me.
LoveXXX
Janis
Letter No. 033
BECOMING TOM CLAN
CY
TOM CLANCY TO HIS FRIENDS
November 1st, 1984
Few novelists have been as successful as Tom Clancy, a man whose first manuscript, The Hunt for Red October, sold for $5000 in 1984 and upon publication was quickly deemed “my kind of yarn” by then-US President Ronald Reagan. A phenomenal career followed that boasted 17 New York Times bestsellers including Patriot Games, The Sum of All Fears, and Clear and Present Danger – more than 100 million of his novels are now in print; his many thrillers have also inspired countless movie and videogame adaptations. In 1985, a year after his first novel hit the shelves, he wrote a letter to his closest friends and took them on a tour of his increasingly surreal life in the spotlight.
… to whom it may concern:
Even computer printers have their limitations. The attached letter takes 35 minutes to print, hence cannot be customized too greatly except at the cost of lots of time.
For this reason, I have chosen to Xox the letter detailing my recent adventures, which was set up for my next “gotta” correspondence.
If this makes me appear a cheap bastard, well, I’ve been called worse.
P. O. Box 38 Owings MD 20736
3/8
&ff/85
Hi, Guys!
It was GREAT seeing you three guys two weeks back. Cindy especially. I suppose motherhood agrees with her. Gavin is rather a handsome little guy.
Well, back to the continuing adventures of Tom Clancy, boy-writer. Right after you guys took the Big Iron Bird back to D-Land, I had lunch in the Pentagon, with VADM Nils Thunman, OP–02 (Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for Submarine Warfare). They reserved me a “mall entrance” (demi-VIP) parking place, and I went diddy-boppin’ over. I still say that the Pentagon is the IDEAL place to play Dungeons and Dragons, a thoroughly depressing building. Some nice paintings and ship models, though. The security force is not marines, but rather the Federal Protective Service, looking very militant in their FPS baseball hats and SWAT-type uniforms. Right. They might frighten off the Fuller Brush Man.
OP–02 occupies room 4E524. Fourth floor (“deck”), E (outermost) ring. Actually a small suite of rooms. He does not have the gollywog display system, of course, but does have a largish map (12x12) of the world, and another of the Arctic Ocean–“We’re doing a lot under the ice now. It’s public information that we’ve had four boats surface in the ice this year.”
Oh?
Thunman is 50ish, taller than my 6–1 (must have left his blood on lots of submarine hatches), and manifestly has enough confidence to run a small galaxy. He gave me a largish (and quite heavy) plaque with a pair of brass dolphins on it, making me an official honorary submariner. I was surprised. Stunned. And pleased as hell. His aide then ran it down to my car.
So, we went off to lunch, down the E-ring. Suddenly a captain pulled open a door, and in I went to find five (5) other admirals (****, ***, ***, ***, and ***; plus my *** escort). The CNO Dining Room. Captains and dogs not allowed. Where did that leave me…
SCOTTIE, BEAM ME UP!
Nobody warned me.
I got a glass of sherry–thimble glass, you just get used to the bouquet and it’s gone; but good stuff–to steady down, and started answering questions from the Vice-CNO (James Watkins was out of town) and other luminaries.
Guys, I’m talking stark terror. There I was, a culture on a petrie dish being examined by the professors of Johns Hopkins Medical School. All looked different, but, of course, alike too. Mid–50s, stern-looking–these are people accustomed to having their whims performed with alacrity– but civilized. Very tough-minded chaps. I made a quick sweep of the salad bars and counted a pair of Navy Crosses and enough Silver Stars to handle the smartest first grade class in history. One stark impression: If you want to play cards with them, leave the checkbook home. Well, they liked my explanation for why the Russian subs spend so much time on the surface (cabbage), and my two favorite Lawyer jokes. I asked a few judicious questions, and got very interesting answers. (Of course, you listen most closely to what is not said, right?) On the whole an interesting, though somewhat tense, hour or two it was. Glad it happened: Now I know I can handle meeting Ronnie. Sure, he’s more important, but there’s only one of him!
Went immediately to Annapolis to show them my trophy–I am hugely pleased with that 30-pound monster! Got caught by an AP interviewer there. Time runs it this week. The guys in Annapolis lit off the 5th printing, and we’ve had a nibble from a movie producer. One of the things I asked Thunman was whether he’d cooperate with a movie/TV production of Hunt. He answered with a qualified yes.
The next week passed unremarkably. This week, 3/4–8, turned out to be a busy one. On 3/1, after my regular Friday morning trip to the local Crown Books, I found a message on my desk to the effect that one Ruth Chevetz (or something like that) had called me. She books people for Good Morning America. Oh, shit.
So I called her, and she wanted my hot young body on nationwide TV the following Tuesday. I gasped and said…Okay, then called Annapolis to make sure they had come through proper channels. They hadn’t. They’d called me direct on the strength of the Time article. So, my NY publicist and the Institute conferred and said to proceed. Okay.
Called Gerry Sterner, asking for pharmacological help, and he prescribed 5mg of Valium. Sorry to wimp out, but, shit, I was scared. I mean, 22,000,000! people watch this show every AM. And I got myself mentally prepared (Instructions: one tab at 2200L night before, not that I’m a damned addict!) and came to work Monday ready to take the train to New York. Got a call early that morning, a late-breaking news story bumped me back to Wednesday. I already had a radio talk-show Wednesday. But…
Recycle 24hrs. Came to work Tuesday, got myself a haircut, and got yet another call from the Apple. Bumped to Friday. (Ever wonder how Caryl Chessman felt?) (I know.) So I rescheduled the Wednesday talk show, and did it. No big deal. Their call-in phones didn’t work!
Next day I had a half hour with Marvin Mandel on WNAV, Annapolis. A charming little guy for an ex-governor cum convicted felon (I always thought they got him of a very strange–and very bum?–rap). Afterwards told me about two trips to the USSR he made for the State Department. I think he likes Josef Mengele better than the Ivans. He met Yuri Andropov. You remember Yuri, the closet liberal who liked good scotch and cool jazz. Mandel said that he got chills looking at the guy before he found out he was CINC-KGB: “A thug, obviously a bastard, even when he was trying to charm us.”
Okay, came in Thursday READY to go. ABC was so contrite at having bumped me that they offered to bring Wanda up, too. Fine, we left at 1315L and caught a 1440 choo-choo for the Big Apple. The trip was unremarkable, we arrived at dusk, rush hour. Rush hour in New York is something to behold. Went past a place that advertised “LIVE GAY BURLESQUE.” I don’t even want to know what that is.
The cab ride was, well, I’ve already expounded on these kamikaze school rejects. Bumper cars, played with real cars.
ABC had us booked in to the St.Moritz-by-the-Park at 50 Central Park South. Expensive. We got room 2018, facing the park, which actually looks like a hell of nice place. I mean, really a nice park…except for the local carnivors. Besides, it was drizzling. Anyway, from his 20th floor vantage, New York actually looked like a decent place. Those hansome (sp?) buggies were collected in front of the place. I wonder how many horses are killed every year by that city’s traffic?
Had dinner in their dining room with my agent and his fiance–well, informal fiance, I gather. An Irish girl (from Connecticut), a bright, sweet kid. Anyway, after a listless attack on a mediocre steak, topped off with a largish glass of Harvey’s Bristol Cream (ABC footed the bill, thank God), we retired for the evening. And I popped my 5mg tablet. (The heart in the center is a nice touch.) Slept reasonably well until the 0530L wakeup call.
Damned wakeup calls, always on time. Woke up to a drizzling pre- dawn gloom. I will never know whether it was my Irish backbone, or the lingering effect of the funny pill with the cute heart i
n the middle, but BY GOD! I swore to myself that I wouldn’t screw up. Normal morning routine, and went downstairs for milk. The restaurant was closed until 0700, when the limo was due to arrive. Grrr. Went out into the Indian Country of 6th Avenue, found a deli and a pint of milk to occupy the upper GI for the next few hours, back to the 20th floor. Buoyed a pint of vitamin-d 4% butterfat milk, and a few, I regret to admit, cigarettes (sorry, Mike, but the stress was really tough!), I was READY! We proceeded down at 0655L, and the limo was waiting for us.
Can’t fault ABC for the service. The drive to ABC HQ was by Lincoln Towncar. Traffic was light (amazingly light). Arrived at 0715±L.
The building was rather a disappointment, on one of those narrow sidestreets, in the East 50s, I think, plain block walls, very plain inside, almost like a warehouse. We were taken to the green room. Which wasn’t green anyplace. 0725 I went upstairs for hair and makeup. They left my hair alone, and I got some itchy, powdery shit put on my face. I couldn’t tell the difference visually. Back downstairs. Wait. The hardest thing in all the world to do is–waiting.
0732, a stage-crewman comes in and waves for me to follow. Into the set through two soundproof doors.
The set is about the size of a basketball court. I won’t bother with a detailed description, though the place had enough lights for a football stadium. They sat me down, pinned a pair of mikes on my jacket, and got me a coffee cup of water (my mouth was a little dry) (like an Egyptian cotton field). 0739, David Hartman comes over.
Taller than I am, mid–40s, rather a nice chap, one of the reasons they pay him $1,500,000 per year. Said he hadn’t read the book yet, but was looking forward too. He might even have been telling the truth.
The cameras close in. 0741, David goes into his intro. Gave it a hell of a buildup: “Blockbuster…sweeping over the capital like a tidal wave…” The little red light on the near camera clicks on. Show time.
