Most of the daughters felt that their father was ready to die. “He seemed more vulnerable than any other time I’d ever seen him,” Tara says. “He was lonely and afraid. Life had thrown him a huge curveball when June died. He was lost.” Cindy agrees. “I think June dying was his way of saying, ‘Okay, I’ve spent my time in hell, I’m going to heaven.’”
Kathy, too, feels that her dad was tired of being sick and lonely. “He hated being dependent on people to help him with everything, and I think he was just ready to go. We had a long discussion about death about two months before he died. He said he couldn’t wait to be out of pain, see everyone, and finally see Jesus. He said, ‘Baby, this body is so tired and sick. I’m ready to move on. I know all my children will be okay.’ We also talked about Jack and how often Jack visited him in ‘dreams.’ He told me about some of the conversations they had and that he had progressively aged and was always two and a half years older than Dad. He told me Jack had a white beard and a head of white hair. He said, ‘I’ve missed him every day of my life, but being able to see and talk to him in dreams has helped the pain immensely.’”
As for Rosanne, after endlessly weighing the possibilities, she says only, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
John Carter, however, is convinced that his dad didn’t give up on life after June died.
“Music was his refuge, his only outlet,” he says. “Dad couldn’t see, he couldn’t read anymore, and his wife was gone, but he didn’t just lay down. We have to realize that some of the greatest work in the American series was done after my mother was gone. So did he die with a broken heart? Absolutely. But did it kill him? I don’t believe so. His spirit did not stop. His body gave up. I firmly believe that if his body hadn’t given up, he’d still be here making music now.
“Everyone carries burdens around with them. I believe the thing about Dad that people find so easy to relate to is that he was willing to expose his most cumbersome burdens, his most consuming darknesses. He wasn’t afraid to go through the fire and say, ‘I fell down. I’ve made mistakes. I’m weak. I hurt.’ But in doing so, he gained some sort of defining strength. Every moment of darkness enabled him to better see the light. Perhaps, at the end of each life, there is a balance of this darkness and light. To me, as far as my father’s life, the light wins—hands down. His most enduring legacy is that this message continues to spread.”
Acknowledgments
My journey on the book began in early 2009, soon after Lou Robin’s reply to my question about how much of the Johnny Cash story had been told. Lou, who managed Cash for more than a quarter century, said, “Only about twenty percent.” True enough. During nearly four years of research and writing, I found that John’s life was more far complex than I had imagined, and some of the more troubling discoveries caused me to question just how much the public needs to know about an artist. In those moments, I ultimately relied on Cash’s own words. Time and again he said he wanted people to know his entire story—especially the dark, guilt-ridden, hopeless moments—because he believed in redemption and he wanted others to realize that they too could be redeemed regardless of how badly they had stumbled. This full disclosure was a goal that John didn’t always live up to in his own autobiographies because, he said, he didn’t want to hurt those close to him. But he wanted, without reserve, the complete story to come out eventually.
Because it was the music that drew us all to Johnny Cash, my primary focus in this book is on his artistry, initially the question of how someone from a cotton patch in Arkansas could develop such a deep sense of compassion and purpose in his music. But in time the exploration expanded to reflect on how hard he had to struggle to maintain his artistry amid a torrent of personal problems and career pressures.
The first I want to thank are John’s children—John Carter Cash, Rosanne Cash, Kathy Cash, Cindy Cash, and Tara Cash, as well as June’s daughter Carlene Carter. Though concerns were sometimes expressed when uncomfortable topics came up, the consensus was that they, too, felt the full story should be told. As well as sitting down for repeated interviews, John Carter, Rosanne, Kathy, Cindy, and Carlene patiently answered e-mails that numbered in the hundreds. Rosanne provided particularly invaluable counsel. I was in touch with Tara only via e-mail, but she too was wonderfully supportive. Other Cash relatives who contributed to this portrait were Lorrie Bennett, Joanne Cash Yates, Roy Cash Jr., Damon Fielder, Tommy Cash, and Kelly Hancock. Thanks also to Cathy Sullivan and Terri Dunn for graciously allowing the use of various Cash documents. And Shari Wied of Hal Leonard Corporation.
There is another layer of people who gave so generously of their time out of love and respect for Cash that I think of them as part of his extended family. Chief among them, Johnny Western, Kris and Lisa Kristofferson, David Ferguson, Bill Miller, James Keach, Don and Harold Reid, Marty Stuart, Larry Gatlin, and Kti Jensen.
Lou Robin was instrumental throughout, not only sharing hundreds of pages of documents outlining Cash’s years on the road, but also putting me in contact with key players. He and his wife, Karen, were always ready to talk about their years with John and June. It must have been a sometimes difficult role for Lou, because one of his chief duties for years was protecting Cash’s image; but he recognized the importance of telling all of John’s story so that we might better understand the man and his art—both what Cash overcame and what he accomplished.
For contributing insights and experiences and/or helpful letters and other documents, I am also grateful to Brian Ahern, Gene Beley, Rick Blackburn, Bono, James and Louise Burton, Larry Butler, Geoffrey Cannon, Jack Clement, Larry Collins, Lorrie Collins, Jessi Colter, Tom Cording, Jonathan Cott, Clive Davis, Steve Earle, Robert Elfstrom, Ralph Emery, Colin Escott, Sylvia Flye, Dr. Billy Graham, Marshall Grant, Peter Guralnick, Merle Haggard, Tom T. and Dixie Hall, Vicky Hamilton, A. J. Henson, Everett Henson, Jonathan Holiff, W. S. Holland, Billie Jean Horton, Jan Howard, J. E. Huff, Bob Johnston, Rich Kienz, Peter Lewry, Bob Mahaffey and other Air Force buddies, James Mangold, Mac McBride, David McGee, Edwin “Rip” Nix, Robert K. Oermann, Tom Petty, Larry Porter, Chuck Riley, Mark Romanek, John Singleton, Reverend Jimmie Snow, Robert Sullivan, Jimmy Tittle, Kevin Weatherly, Richard Weize, Johnny Wessler, and Dr. Nat Winston. I’d also like to thank those who helped provide access to key interview subjects and materials: Heidi-Ellen Robinson, Paul McGuinness, Larry Jenkins, Tony Dimitriades, Jim Guerinot, Jeff Rosen, Tresa Redburn, Maria-Elena Orbea, Cindy Hively, and Renee White. Also, thanks to the research staffs at public libraries in Memphis and Nashville, Tennessee; West Helena, Arkansas; Los Angeles and Ventura, California; and London, England. Also, Nashville Local 257 of the American Federation of Musicians. In addition, I am forever grateful for the encouragement and friendship of all my colleagues over the years at the Los Angeles Times, from Charles Champlin to Dean Baquet, but particularly Bret Israel and Donna Frazier Glynn, who were consistent supporters throughout the writing of the book.
Let me also thank my agent, Luke Janklow, who brings an overriding sense of passion and imagination to every aspect of developing, selling, and protecting a writer’s idea. Little, Brown and Company is an author’s dream. I am indebted foremost to John Parsley, my editor, for his belief in the project and his steady, reassuring nurturing of it, from the initial outline to the finished manuscript. My gratitude also extends to Michael Pietsch, Reagan Arthur, Malin von-Euler Hogan, Elizabeth Garriga, Peggy Freudenthal, Marian Parker, Amanda Brown, and Amanda Lang. Finally, Chris Nolan and Amanda Heller.
My deepest appreciation to Rick Rubin, who cares so profoundly about Johnny Cash that he not only agreed to spend dozens of hours recounting the American Recordings years, but also read parts of the manuscript for accuracy and to trigger his recollection of additional details.
I am also indebted to the person who accompanied me every step of the way. Mark Stielper evolved from a boyhood fan of John and June into a confidant and, eventually, the family historian. He is working on his own book, an imaginat
ive work built around Cash’s TV show—a project that made the countless hours he spent answering my questions all the more generous. There were times when he told me things that he has been saving for years, and I appreciate his trust and friendship. We didn’t always interpret events in the Cashes’ lives the same way, but Mark kept me focused on telling John’s real story rather than simply the accepted “fairy tale,” as he often put it.
Next, let me thank my immediate family. The list stretches from my parents, Alice Marie and John, through my first wife, Ruthann Snijders, and her husband, Dutch, on to our children, Kathy Morris and Rob Hilburn, our son-in-law Ronald Morris and daughter-in-law Sarah Coley-Hilburn, and to our four grandchildren, Christopher Morris and Lindsey Morris, Genevieve Hilburn and Grant Hilburn.
I am also blessed by the way my wife, Kathi, has shown the same affection to all of my family that she has given to her own children, Keith Bond and Kate Bond. Kathi read every stage of the manuscript, not only correcting errors but asking questions that made the book better.
Photos
The contrasting expressions of Cash and his brother Jack mirror the differences the boys’ parents saw in their sons. Where Ray thought of Jack as enthusiastic and focused, he looked upon J.R. as lazy and unresponsive. Carrie viewed J.R. more sympathetically. She believed his quiet demeanor suggested a thoughtful and sensitive child. (John Carter Cash collection)
The Cash family around 1950. Back row, from left: Roy, Carrie, Louise, Ray, Reba, and J.R. In front: Tommy and Joanne. (Rosanne Cash collection)
Fiddling around at far left with Air Force buddies in a club in Germany. About Cash, his squad supervisor said, “We were all kids. None of us knew what we wanted to do—except Johnny. From the beginning, he knew he was going to be a singer. I can still see him sitting on a metal GI cot with the mattress rolled up, strumming that guitar.” (Bob Mehaffey collection)
Cash spent nearly three years in Germany dreaming of the day he could return home and marry Vivian Liberto—and that dream finally came true in the summer of 1954. (Rosanne Cash collection)
Cash and the Tennessee Two—Marshall Grant, left, and Luther Perkins—on the concert trail after signing with Sun Records in 1955. (Rosanne Cash collection)
Sam Phillips and Cash celebrate the national success of Johnny’s breakthrough hit, “I Walk the Line,” in 1956. (Knox Phillips collection)
The family at home in Encino, California, after signing with giant Columbia Records in 1958—from left: Kathy, Vivian, Rosanne, and Cindy in John’s lap. “Those were great times,” Kathy said. “We never went anywhere without my folks holding hands or their arms around each other.” (Don Hunstein, courtesy of Sony Music Entertainment)
Cash wrote “I Walk the Line” to help assure Vivian that he wouldn’t be tempted by all the adoring female fans that inevitably showed up backstage on the road. (Don Hunstein, courtesy of Sony Music Entertainment)
Vivian and Johnny at a Los Angeles nightclub with manager Stew Carnall and his wife, Lorrie Collins, across from Carnall. To the right of Lorrie are her mother, Irene, and sister, Sylvia. Many in the Cash camp believed Carnall married the teenage Lorrie to prevent a potential scandal over her relationship with Cash. (Rosanne Cash collection)
Publicity still from the ill-fated 1961 film Five Minutes to Live starring Cash and Cay Forrester. (Silver Screen Collection/Getty Images)
Billie Jean Horton, with her husband, Johnny Horton, at her side, was known as the prettiest woman in country music, and Cash, next to Vivian, was so captivated by Billie Jean that he asked her to marry him weeks after Horton’s death in a 1960 car crash. Fearful of his drug use, Billie Jean turned him down. (Billie Jean Horton collection)
Cash with Frank Wakefield, left, and Bob Dylan, right, after his triumphant performance at the Newport Folk Festival in 1964. (Estate of David Gahr/Getty Images)
The tension in the Cash household was evident on the faces by the time of daughter Tara’s birth in the summer of 1961. (Rosanne Cash collection)
In a photo that appeared in hundreds of newspapers around the world, Cash is headed to a federal courthouse in El Paso in October 1965 after being arrested for possession of more than a thousand pills. (Associated Press)
Cash on the day of his landmark concert at Folsom Prison in January 1968. “I knew this was it, my chance to make up for all the times when I had messed up,” he said. (© Dan Poush)
Moments before going onstage at Folsom, Cash suddenly felt calm. “There was something in their eyes that made me realize everything was going to be OK,” he said of the audience. “I felt I had something they needed.” Robert Hilburn, at Cash’s side, covered the concert for the Los Angeles Times. (© Jim Marshall Photography LLC)
Cash’s relationship with his longtime manager Saul Holiff, right, was a delicate balance of huge career strides and tumultuous confrontation. (Photograph by Jorgan Halling/Saul Holiff Collection)
John and June backstage in Anaheim, California, a year after their marriage in March 1968. (© Dan Poush)
John and June at the hospital with John Carter in 1970. (Sony Music Entertainment)
June, Anita, John Carter, and John during an appearance on the television show This Is Your Life, which was taped in Nashville in early 1971. (Sony Music Entertainment)
With the superstardom gained after the Folsom album, Cash turned increasingly to the Bible and used his popularity to express his faith through his music and ABC television show. (Sony Music Entertainment)
At Rosanne’s 1979 wedding to singer-songwriter Rodney Crowell, Cash poses with daughters, from left, Rosanne, Tara, Cindy, and Kathy. (Rosanne Cash collection)
Cash with manager Lou Robin and his wife, Karen, during a fifties-themed party in the 1970s. (Lou Robin collection)
John and June share the stage with Billy and Ruth Graham at one of the many Graham Crusade concerts in the 1970s. (Courtesy Billy Graham Evangelistic Association. Used with permission. All rights reserved.)
One side of John and June in a playful photo shoot in 1980. (Marty Stuart collection)
The other side of John and June at the 1980 photo shoot. (Marty Stuart collection)
Cash with John Carter and a flock of kids in the mid-1970s. (Sony Music Entertainment)
Rosanne Cash comforts her father during a family gathering for June’s birthday in 2001. (©Annie Leibovitz)
John and June at the same family reunion in 2001. (©Annie Leibovitz)
Cash during a break in the filming of the profoundly moving “Hurt” video in the Hendersonville house in fall 2002. (Mark Romanek)
John Carter Cash is at his father’s side as he celebrates June’s birthday in her hometown in Virginia just weeks after her death in 2003. It was his next-to-last public performance. (© 2003 Daniel Coston)
John with Rick Rubin in the producer’s house during the final stages of recording the album The Man Comes Around in 2002. (© Martyn Atkins)
Guide to Recordings and DVDs
Johnny Cash’s music was featured on more than one hundred albums—spread (primarily) across four record labels—and recycled on hundreds of compilations around the world during his near-fifty-year career, so it can be daunting to decide just where to start exploring his music. This guide is designed to assist in that search—both for those interested in his entire body of work and for those wishing to focus on a particular period. Several of the albums are now out of print, but all can still be found in new or guaranteed used editions.
I. The Original Recordings
An Introduction Package
The Legend (Hip-0). Though disappointingly thin on the Columbia Records period, this twenty-one-song retrospective includes such essential tracks as “Hey, Porter” and “I Walk the Line” from the Sun Records days and the breakthrough U2 collaboration (“The Wanderer”). It ends with selections from the Rick Rubin productions, including the seminal “Hurt” and “The Man Comes Around.”
Sun Years
The emphasis at Sun was on singles rather than a
lbums, which make Cash’s “best of” compilations on Sun more important than the original Sun albums. Those singles represent some of his most dynamic works. The best combine a dazzling burst of artistic awakening, reflecting both a rich sense of imagery and deeply authentic vocals.
Johnny Cash: The Sun Years (Sun/Rhino). If you aren’t familiar with the Sun recordings, this eighteen-song overview is a good starting point. It contains the original version of “Folsom Prison Blues” as well as such other essential tracks as “Big River” and “Give My Love to Rose.”
Johnny Cash: The Complete Sun Recordings, 1955–1958 (Time Life). If you are drawn to the Sun period, this three-disc box set gives you everything Cash recorded with Sam Phillips and Jack Clement in the 1950s as well as a few demos and a forty-page booklet. New copies of the album can be pricey, but used copies often go for little more than the single-disc Rhino package.
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