I first met Johnny Otis when I worked at a small talk radio station in Santa Rosa. Johnny lived in a nearby rural town of Sebastopol. On Friday and Saturday nights he would frequent local restaurants to play the Rock n’ Roll and Rhythm & Blues he became famous for in the 1950’s. It wasn’t just Johnny Otis and his band playing the hit tunes that drove him to become the best known white evangelist for black music, it was billed as The Johnny Otis Show and what a show he gave to his audience.
By the time I met Johnny, he had gone from R&B Band leader to record producer (Hound Dog by Big Mama Thornton), songwriter (Roll With Me Henry for Etta James and Every Beat of My Heart for Jackie Wilson and Gladys Knight and the Pips), R&B gospel disc jockey in Los Angeles, organic grocery store owner, painter, sculptor, and political activist and commentator. He was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a songwriter and producer in 1994, the R&B Foundation Hall of Fame in 1995 and the Blues Hall of Fame in 2000.
I made every effort to get Johnny on my mid-morning talk show in part so I could meet the legend who created and recorded one of my earliest favorite songs as a child, Willie and the Hand Jive. I succeeded in getting him into the studio and when I met him I was somewhat surprised. He was a tall, charismatic figure with jet black dyed hair and beard. His speaking voice was a tad higher than his singing voice. I do remember that he was a polite, warm gentleman who extended his somewhat arthritic hand for a hearty shake.
I had Johnny on my show many times and while we discussed music and his historic contribution to R&B, we went round about when it came to the issue of politics. Johnny was an unabashed liberal and didn’t get conservative thought. We debated the issues for what seemed to be hours. Through these many debates we gained a respect for each other that grew into a friendship. Johnny would invite me to his home in Sebastopol for lunch so the two of us could dine alone and continue our political discussions. I was invited to many of his weekend concerts held at local restaurants in downtown Santa Rosa and in his organic grocery store (it was an organic grocery store by day and nightclub venue by night).
Neither one of us ever converted the other to our respective political positions. But we grew to respect the positions the other held as they were born of sincere convictions. On more than one occasion Johnny wondered if some of his liberal friends might worry that I was having too much of an influence on him politically. He assured his friends and me he was not about to change his political positions.
Johnny was a white man born of Greek heritage. He married a black woman and told me that if ever there was a possibility that one could convert to another race he had done it. Without hesitation and with a great deal of pride, Johnny considered himself to be a white man turned black.
Johnny Otis told me on more than one occasion that he wanted to be remembered as the “Lawrence Welk of Black Music.” That is something that still rings in my mind today as I read the obituary of Johnny Otis. Was he a friend or an adversary? He was both. However, I choose to fondly remember him as my friend. In tribute to my friend Johnny Otis, the man and the musician, I will always remember him as the “Lawrence Welk of Black Music.”