Friday, Jul 25, 2008
June Carter and Johnny Cash celebrate her new album with soulful spirituals and fried green tomatoes.
May 18, 1999 | Johnny Cash has the look of a Mafia don as he greets family and friends under a tent erected next to his mansion. The 67-year-old suffers from a neurological condition known as Shy-Drager syndrome, which makes walking difficult and at times impossible. So he accepts the hugs, kisses and good wishes of loved ones from a chair. Sitting down, the legend looks undiminished, still large enough to fill out his black, double-breasted suit, which he leaves unbuttoned. He even appears powerful as people bend over to put their arms around his broad torso and whisper into his ear. He lifts up a crying grandson with apparent ease. "Oh, I know," he says, altering his depths-of-hell voice in an attempt to speak baby talk. "I'm sorry."
June Carter Cash, Johnny's wife and a musical legend in her own right, appears more the gracious hostess than the main attraction, even though tonight, that's exactly what she is. The early evening event is to honor June upon the release of "Press On," her first solo record in more than 25 years. June will play for the invited guests later on, and if she's nervous at the prospect of performing on her own instead of in support of her husband, which is what she's done mostly since the couple married over 30 years ago, she doesn't show it.
June's there at the front door of her home, urging guests to go inside and take a look around. Built along the banks of Old Hickory Lake, next door to the lot where the late Roy Orbison used to live, the place practically creeks with history. It's crowded with hand-carved, dark wood furniture that the couple's imported from all over the world. Portraits of Cash family members share wall space with gold records and priceless photos: Johnny chatting up Prince Charles. Waylon Jennings looking young and a little tipsy. Carl Perkins recording in the studio back in the day.
As I reach the bottom of one set of stairs, a man extends his hand to introduce himself: "I'm Tommy Cash, Johnny's brother." Just beyond Tommy is a table adorned with a collection of acoustic instruments, a few of which, I'm told, were used by the original Carter Family, the first family of American folk music, progenitors of modern country music and the family Johnny joined when he married June. Around the corner, through a hallway and down some more stairs is the lakeside room where Johnny hosted his legendary "guitar pulls" in the late '60s and early '70s. The events were informal, star-studded jams at which, as Johnny writes in his '97 autobiography, "Kris Kristofferson sang 'Me and Bobby McGee' for the first time ... and Joni Mitchell 'Both Sides Now.' Graham Nash sang 'Marrakesh Express' and Shel Silverstein 'A Boy Named Sue.' Bob Dylan let us hear 'Lay Lady Lay.'"
There are bold-faced names in the flesh as well -- George Jones(!), Naomi Judd, Jane Seymour(!), Diane Ladd -- but the event feels more like a wedding than a star-studded gala. "Entertainment Tonight" is on hand, but for the most part, the camera hands inconspicuously keep their gear at the rear of the tent where everyone gathers to eat and watch June perform.
A lot of people talk about how June and Johnny have made them feel like family. With a plate full of fried green tomatoes and slices of roast pork, I sit next to Laura Weber, the young violinist/multi-instrumentalist who's playing in June's band. Laura's parents, Pat and Sharon, came in from Oregon for the occasion. The parents flew into Nashville a few days ago, but they've spent most of their time at the compound helping the Cashes, whom they'd never met before, prepare for the evening's festivities. They seem at ease among all the celebs, local and otherwise; neither parent flinches when Nashville songwriter Tom T. Hall ducks in to flirt and joke with their daughter.
But still, reverence is hard to disguise. Pat's eyes beam when he tells me that June is allowing Laura to play a vintage guitar that was a favorite of Maybelle Carter, June's mom and an original Carter Family member. Dad knows that the instrument could likely have been used to help create the music his daughter has devoted her life to playing. Later on in the meal, Sharon tells me that she read an article recently -- she doesn't remember where -- in which a musician was quoted comparing Johnny Cash to Abe Lincoln. At first she thought the comparison seemed silly, "but now," she says, "I think that it sounds about right."
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