A dizzying 90-year journey that began in the tri-cities, intersected with the streets of downtown Knoxville in the 1940s, and took a detour through Motown Records, finds its way to a celebration tomorrow and you are invited. Knoxville music legend John Myers turns 90 years old on Monday and to celebrate, he reached out to his band and suggested they “play some songs.” And so, they will, at the Laurel Theatre from 2:00 to 4:00 p.m. this Saturday you’ll find birthday cake, good friends and family, and a ninety-year-old doing what he loves to do best: performing for a crowd. It’s open to the public.
The last time this site tuned in to John’s career, he threw himself an 80th birthday party, performing on the stage of Scruffy City Hall in a set that blew out the walls. I struggled to imagine the dynamism his shows must have delivered when he was only 60 years old, or 40, or a teenager when he got his start. Thanks to Sean McCollough (who is in both the Lonetones and the John Myers Band), I visited John at his and wife Pamela’s home to explore his career and to check in on how he’s doing now. The short answer to that second part is that he rattled off details of the last ninety years with precision and hardly breathed for over an hour, so he’s doing very well.
Born in Kingsport, John had six brothers and sisters, including a twin, James. His father died about the time John became a teenager and after moving around a bit, the family settled in Knoxville where he attended Green School through eighth grade, while living on Vine Street. He attended high school at Beardsley until the road called his name and he answered.
The family hustled to survive, and he recalled his dad having jobs as a piano player in a band, working with the Tennessee Press making encyclopedias. “And hunting. He just had a way of making it work.” He traveled through Europe playing music as part of the Army during World War II before he married John’s mother. “We used to watch him when we were kids. He used to tune his own piano. We were a happy family. We sang and we played, I only remembered when we were older ” how small the house was. It was kitchen, living room, and a bedroom and nine people. He partitioned off one of the rooms.”
“I never remember having it bad in our family. I remember the good days, not the poverty. My mother would be up every morning cooking biscuits and making syrup out of sugar and fatback. It was the best eating in the world. Potatoes. I made good grades in school. It’s not like it seems now with gangs in neighborhoods killing each other. I think it goes back to the family. Even now my sisters and brothers love each other.” Of the seven, all survived until ten years ago, but two have now gone, the oldest to COVID, along with his wife and their son.
John and his brothers got a job, riding the coal truck around town before they went to school every morning, calling out “Hey, Coal Man! Hey, Coal Man!” with “a guy named Murphy. He said they made, “Maybe fifty cents for three or four hours of work.” As the call got answered by customers, he and his brothers would carry the coal or firewood into their homes. He said there was a shoe-shine man in what we now call the Old City on Central next to an alley. When the brothers noticed the stand was still there, but the man had disappeared, they got rags and polish and set up shop. “We hoped nobody came along and said, ‘Get off my shoeshine stand!'” It was easier work than the coal truck, paid better, and would lead to an important connection.
More than anything, the boys loved singing, working out harmonies around the house to all sorts of songs from gospel, to country and western, and standards like “Stardust,” and “Over the Rainbow.” “When doo wop came in, like the Dominos and the Clovers, we started singing that when we were in grade school. Our mother sang and my sisters sang. They still sing today.”
An early highlight came when the principal of Green School offered the stage to anyone who wanted to perform at an assembly. John, James, and some others took the stage, laid out the harmonies on “Don’t You Know I Love You,” by the Clovers. “When we finished that song we got a standing ovation. Kids just started screaming and hollering and that’s when my dream was born.” John and the band will perform that very song on Saturday, more than seventy-five years later.
With five members, calling themselves “The Five Pennies,” they threw themselves into practicing for hours every day after school. They knew they wanted a singing career and when they met a guy named Fred Logan at the shoeshine stand, the possibilities began to open. Fred owned and operated several “bars and juke joints” around downtown and had financial backing from a woman in Atlanta named Mrs. Mosby. “She owned the whole upstairs” of the western side of the 100 block of Gay Street. They traveled to Atlanta, and she bought them full wardrobes and caps with a mustard seed embedded in the front, a reference to the Biblical admonition to have faith.
They began performing. “We used to go to the Gem Theatre on Vine. It was booming for blacks.” He recalled some of the artists that came through the Gem Theatre, like, “The Dominos, The Clovers, The Orioles, Ruth Brown, Amos Milburn.” He said when they’d come to town “they all stayed at Fred Logan’s house because he had a big house up on Dandridge Avenue . . . He’d take us to his house and have us sing for them. Amos Milburn got us our first record on Atlantic Records.”
They also played “the Workers Club,” which was part of the building still standing at the corner of Summit and Central. The area was a hub of black nightlife. “From there back to the corner were juke joints. Fred Logan had two or three joints there selling bootleg liquor. That’s where the group used to go for rehearsal. Sometimes we’d play hooky just to rehearse. We felt like we were moving up.” Fred got them a backing band and some musical education.
The group, barely into their teens, began regularly performing. “They had a black theatre in Mechanicsville called the Booker T. Theatre. They had talent shows every Wednesday and we’d win it every Wednesday. We won so many times they stopped us to give the others a chance to win.” By the time he was in tenth grade Fred arranged a recording session in New York City, but Savoy Records swooped in and convinced Fred to switch the group to them. “It didn’t matter to us. We didn’t know too much about the business then.”
Fred got them a booking agent in New York City and the group traveled there at the beginning of summer after John’s tenth grade year. “The first song we recorded was “Mr. Moon,” a hit.” Clifford Curry, a friend of band member Benny Washington, had been invited into the band because of his prolific songwriting, and he sang lead on the record.
The booking agent had them playing the entire east coast, “We worked from New York to North Carolina with Nappy Brown and Wynonie Harris.” John told his bandmates, “If we make it, I don’t plan on going back to school.” The tour was very successful, and they had an audition at the end of the summer to go on the Ed Sullivan show. Clifford (Who would have his own hit in the late sixties with “She Shot a Hole in My Soul), unfortunately, had to return to Knoxville to register for the draft.
Intending to return, his father refused, saying he had to finish his education. Without the lead vocalist for their hit, they did not make the cut for Ed Sullivan. They would later perform on the Merv Griffin Show alongside comedian Flip Wilson. It was one of several turning points that did not go well for the group. Clifford did join them for a show at Chilhowee Park when the group passed through, and they continued to be friends.
The group worked through the sixties, joining major tours across the U.S. and Canada. It was in Canada in 1970 that they got a call from Berry Gordy, Jr. who had heard one of their demos and wanted to fly them to Detroit. As The Hearts of Stone, they recorded two albums for Motown, one of which, “Stop the World, We Wanna Get On,” (listen to the tracks on YouTube or streaming). Due to management and contractual issues, the first album never got promoted and the second was never released. It was another “almost” point for the band, but John considers recording for Motown the pinnacle he’d worked for. “It’s the past. I don’t regret not going to Motown. We played with a lot of great people.”
The group pressed on through the 70s, but by the early 80s, John was ready to come home to Knoxville. He left the band and started a business with his brother back in Knoxville but continued writing songs with his wife Pamela. With the backing of a new band, he resumed performing in 2007 and recorded an excellent album, “I Ain’t Going Nowhere,” featuring tracks written by he and Pamela, released in 2010.
In recent years, Motown has occasionally released singles from the music Hearts of Stone recorded for the label, including releases around the world. Some have featured the Jackson Five, Marvin Gay, and Smokey Robinson on the flip side. John said, “I get a little royalty check from Japan.” He remains energetic and unremittingly positive. “If you think positive, positive things will come out of your thinking . . . God has been good. He has taken care of me. Now I’m ninety and in the Bible, God says he gives us 120 years. I still love singing and we’ve got a show to do.”
If you’ve got a couple of hours Saturday afternoon, some see this special person exude his positivity and blow your face off from the stage. He may not play again until he’s a hundred, so grab him while you can! Laurel Theatre, 2:00 – 4:00 pm, Saturday, Oct. 18 – Birthday Cake and the best music you’ll hear anywhere in the city.