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Coming Soon... THE DEATH OF NEW ORLEANS
LAST LETTER FROM JOHN HEFLEY
hay guys, missed yall at the gathering.also young billy, guitar player from n.o. and neb. got an email from him after i got
to wa. he wanted to play in boise but i didn't know where to find hhim.then an e-mail from his mom saying he got busted for
a prob. violation and was shipped back to n.o. if you're in p.t. my bro's #is (***)***-****. he's got a place to camp , possible
gigs,and a pretty good tub player,but not as good as me and i want 1st dibs on and thumping.no phone here at lake chelan where
i'm camped,but i do have comp. connect at the lib. i'm ready 2 travel. no work here. get in touch. applepickinjohn but no
apples yet
LISSA DRISCOLL
When I first went to New Orleans alone, I took the greyhound from my hometown of Lake Charles with a guitar, a suitcase, and
a phone number I got from a man named Baby Gramps from Seattle. I remember I was somewhere on Decatur Street when I gave Lissa
a call. I told her I was a friend of Gramps and I was in town visiting wondering if she could put me up for a couple of nights.
She told me how to get to her place so I grabbed my things and headed down the road. She lived in a two bedroom shotgun on
Royal Street in the Marigny between Spain and St. Roch. I walked down the side alley and knocked on the old screen door in
back of her house and she let me into the kitchen.,. It's been so long now I can't remember our actual first encounter very
well but she was drinking a glass of red wine, smoking a Lucky Strike, and wearing a slip for a dress if it was a typical
morning at all. The kitchen was pretty ramshackle in the most beautiful and charming way. It had a cot in the corner and a
big pink gas stove she would sit on because she had it running for heat.I remember I was thirsy and I asked her half jokingly
if it was safe to drink the water in New Orleans and she said she doesn't drink water because "fish fuck in it". That's the
kind of woman Lissa is...She wears alot of faces...Her kitchens have housed alot of my best memories of the city, like naked
pork chop day, musical wine breakfasts, impromptu parties where different gangs of musicians would come together to drink
and play and tell stories. It's where I met almost every street performer and local eccentric in the Quarter, where i was
taken under the wings of these folks and was introduced into New Orleans busker life...But it is Lissa who I cannot speak
highly or lowly enough of and who is my mentor. She's a former protege of Baby Gramps and a line of New Orleans originals
and greats you'll probably never hear of. The product of a genuine and hard life met with humor, wit, and deep raw dark passion.
She showed me the spirit of life in the music. She is bought and sold by the truth and love of genuine life, pain, and passionate
beauty of and within the music. She taught me to play for the dead ones. She's a fortune teller, a musician, an alcoholic,
a strange and wonderful friend. So, if you see a barefoot lady named Lissa wearing red lipstick and lace, playing washboard
or guitar on the streets of New Orleans or any town, do me and the world a favor and give her 20 bucks. It will surely come
back to you, and you'll be aiding in the preservation of a little known national treasure. -F.Lemon
AUGIE JR.
Augie Jr. fronted his Big Mess Blues Band on the streets of New Orleans through most of the 80's and early 90's, so I'm told.
This was before my time but I was aware of him and owned his only recording which to this day is one of my favorie blues recordings,
put out in 1991 titled: AUGIE JR. AND THE BIG MESS BLUES BAND / DRINKERS CHOICE. Lissa spoke of him often, sometimes with
a tear, sometimes with a curse..my friend Jason Eklund spoke of him highly.. I heard Grayson wish him dead more than once
and it wasn't so far off, so it seemed. As long as I've know Augie he's been slowly dying of cirrhosis of the liver at the
age of 44. I met him a couple years after he had been given 6 months to live, and that was 4 years ago or something like that.
Resiliant. I met him in the Matador over Mardi Gras of 2000. He came walking in with Lissa and a small entourage and offered
me a shot of homemade moonshine, which was no more than store-bought vodka in a water bottle (the only thing I ever saw him
drink). I remember marveling at him and Lissa's banter, it was two razor blade tounges dueling,.,.they had been lovers once
upon a lost time but I guess it didn't work out. We spent the rest of that night walking the streets, me mostly just listening
to them catch up on old times. Augie was visiting from Eureka Springs, Arkansas where he was living with his now ex-wife in
a little country home he'd bought. I went to visit him there on my way out west once, and I brought him a new hat (always
a good way to start a friendship). I spent those few days swapping stories, watching him eat pills and drink, and listening
to records...He was born I believe in Rochester, New York and he can sing like two birds... I'll never forget the first time
I heard him sing, ever! His mentor/inspiration is John Mooney, so he tells me, though it is Lissa who brought him from working-stiff
to working-musician. After he and his wife got divorced he moved back to New Orleans and I used to go over to his place every
afternoon after playing the streets and sit around watching the three stooges and eating french fry po'boys, listening to
stories... like the time he met Bob Dylan at a John Mooney show in New Orleans. Dylan was standing in the back of the bar
barefoot, and when Augie was introduced to him all he said was "Jesus Christ, your 54 years old don't you own a pair of shoes?".
Thats the kind of man he is. Whether it be watching him test his gun in his house, high as a kite in a drunken paranoia, talking
about all the lovin' he used to get, or just yelling in that east coast Italian way, I learned alot of things from August
Rodola Jr. ...besides how easy it is to beat his ass at poker and how he cooks pork chops I don't know exactly how to describe
them, but they're there. We're on the same side of the highway just at different exits I suppose. I like to say he taught
me to sing or play but we never had one conversation about it. It was more just being in the presence of him and his life
experience,, a moment in time passing,, which has been a unique one. For all his vice and virtue I love him. When I used to
sit on the corner and play I would look down the empty or crowded street and become aware that it is haunted by all the ones
(like Augie) who came before, and I realized the resonance of those men and women will ripple even after the Mississippi takes
those streets into the Gulf of Mexico. -F.Lemon
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