Praise for Unconquered

“God, the devil, and everything in between. This book is a great representation of the duality plane on which we exist.”

—Leon RussellLegendary musician and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member

“Unconquered clearly depicts the fascinating story of three great musical artists who were cousins in real life but icons in the world of music. Each man conquered life’s roadblocks to achieve his ultimate goals.”

—Tom Schedler Louisiana Secretary of State

“Being from the South and also in the music business, this book gave me a great insight into how these three guys grew up as cousins, as well as what made them choose the paths that eventually turned them all into the hugely successful names that the entire world knows and loves.”

—Neal McCoyAcclaimed country music artist

“The contrast between Jimmy Swaggart and his cousins Jerry Lee Lewis and Mickey Gilley would be rejected as a movie script as too farfetched. But the talents of the three men took them farther from Ferriday, Louisiana, than anyone could have imagined when they were growing up.”

—John CampFormer CNN investigative reporter and

producer of documentaries on Jimmy Swaggart

“The Killer, the Thriller, and the Fulfiller . . . what a great movie this is going to make!”

—George KleinMemphis radio and TV personality and

one of Elvis Presley’s best friends

“Unconquered tells the fascinating story of three men growing up in the Mississippi Delta—and how they overcame hardships to become the amazingly talented men we know today.”

—Cowboy Jack ClementSongwriter and recording studio pioneer

“I handled Mickey Gilley’s publicity for over thirty years. From time to time, I would visit Ferriday. I have often thought, then and now, how amazing it is that these three cousins came from this town and scaled the very heights of their chosen field.

I think it is safe to say that Jerry Lee Lewis was right up there in popularity with Elvis during the very early days of rock and roll. Jimmy Swaggart was for many years one of the top televangelists and spiritual leaders. And when Paramount Pictures released Urban Cowboy, Mickey Gilley emerged as one of country music’s biggest acts. Was it something in the water? How could such a small town produce three cousins that would each play a prominent role nationally?”

—Sanford BrokawThe Brokaw Company

Unconquered

Unconquered

J. D. Davis

The Saga of Cousins Jerry Lee Lewis, Jimmy Swaggart, and Mickey Gilley

Brown Books Publishing GroupDallas, Texas

© 2012 J. D. Davis One, LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

UnconqueredThe Saga of Cousins Jerry Lee Lewis, Jimmy Swaggart, and Mickey Gilley

Brown Books Publishing Group16250 Knoll Trail Drive, Suite 205Dallas, Texas 75248www.BrownBooks.com(972) 381-0009 A New Era in Publishing™

ISBN 978-1-61254-041-2Library of Congress Control Number 2012931038

Printing in the United States10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For more information, please visit: www.UnconqueredTheBook.com

Contents

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix1. Anticipation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12. Showtime . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53. Family Ties. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134. Moonshine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215. Births. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266. Early Death . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 287. More Hardship . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 318. That Old-Time Religion . . . . . . . . . . . . . 389. Conquered Unconquered . . . . . . . . . . . . 51

10. Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6111. Mothers and Sons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7712. Early Performances . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9013. First Wives and First Forays . . . . . . . . . . 9614. Birth of Rock ’n’ Roll . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11415. Crazy Arms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13016. Making It . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13417. Mickey Gets Inspired . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14118. Jimmy’s Woes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14619. Myra Gale . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15220. The Devil’s Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15521. Trouble All Around . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16122. Traveling Preacher . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16723. Nesadel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17124. The Evangelists . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17325. Breaking Through . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17926. Club Regular . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18227. Downtime . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18828. The Climb Back . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19529. Satisfaction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20730. Rage and Partying . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21231. Things Are Looking Up . . . . . . . . . . . . 21832. Using His Talent for God . . . . . . . . . . . . 228

33. All This Heartbreak . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23334. Mickey Returns to the Studio . . . . . . . . . . 23835. Playing with Guns . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 248 36. Squeaky Clean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25337. Deeper and Deeper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25938. Urban Cowboy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27239. Not One to Wallow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28240. Struggle Amid Success . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28841. Building Pressure . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29942. Calm Before the Storm . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31943. The Aftermath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32544. The Reckoning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33445. Burnout . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34446. Defiance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35547. The Step Too Far . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36448. Holding Court . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37349. Stygian Night . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37850. Last Man Standing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38251. Going Home . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39052. Mickey’s Spirit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39853. Jimmy’s Redemption . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41254. Survival . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 420

Appendix A: Summarized Family Tree . . . . . . . . . 429Appendix B: Maps . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 430Appendix C: Time Line of Events . . . . . . . . . . . 433Appendix D: Author’s Favorite Songs. . . . . . . . . . 441Acknowledgments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 445Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 447Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 461About the Author

ix

Introduction

As a child growing up in small-town East Texas, a town similar in many ways to small towns everywhere, I remember my father watching on television a shouting, singing, finger-pointing bear of a man named Jimmy Swaggart. While Swaggart’s preaching didn’t mean much to me at that age, his piano playing caught my attention and moved me, as it did millions of others around the world. People were touched and thrilled by his message, and drawn in by his charisma.

As a teenager raised largely in the conservative, fundamentalist Assembly of God world, I struggled with worldly temptations and the discomfiting feelings they aroused, and found that adhering to every edict I had been given in Sunday school was going to be, at the very least, a difficult chore. The words I heard from the pulpit such as “hellfire” and “lost in eternity” and “backsliding” created an increasing sense that I risked slipping into the gates of hell at any inopportune moment. When I heard that the preacher I saw on television had stumbled and made a public and painful mistake of his own, it didn’t disappoint me. Instead, it encouraged me. It gave me hope. It taught me that men, who never stop being men, can maintain their spiritual identity even in the face of imperfection. And it provided an early understanding of the need for grace.

x

Country music dominated my youth. The stereo in the room just off the kitchen played country-and-western and gospel music. Every trip to town from our rural home included songs from the country radio station in Tyler, Texas, forty miles away. Every spring afternoon, the time I spent in the batting cage next to the high school baseball field was punctuated by music that blared through the rolled-down windows of a teammate’s pickup truck. Singers such as Merle Haggard, Conway Twitty, Willie Nelson, and dozens of others permeated my very being and are still ingrained in me decades later.

One of the top performers in those days was a crooner who played piano with flair and sang about flowers and honky-tonks. Even today, the lyrics to each of Mickey Gilley’s seventeen number one country hits come as naturally to me as if I learned them yesterday. When I hear him sing “Put Your Dreams Away” and “True Love Ways” and “You Don’t Know Me,” the songs trigger memories that can seem more vivid than anything happening in present time. This is the power of music—that a familiar note or word can instantaneously, magically return us to half-forgotten places, people, and times.

On August 10, 1991, I was a college student in Austin, Texas. That evening, a friend and I headed down to the Aqua Fest music event, just south of downtown. As a devotee of good piano playing, I was already a fan of Jerry Lee Lewis, who was slated to be the main act. The Four Tops opened the show and sang well-known numbers for nearly an hour. As the sun went down, the wind picked up, bringing with it another Texas thunderstorm. Over the fringes of the Texas Hill Country, lightning flickered across the cool night sky. Between the unpredictable weather and the unpredictable nature of the evening’s headliner, the continuation of the show was in doubt.

Yet an hour later, Jerry Lee Lewis strode purposefully to the front of the stage. A thin man, then fifty-five years old, he stood looking at the crowd. Then he bowed slightly and made his way to

xi

the piano stool behind him. His face looked stern, his eyes piercing as they gazed ahead, somewhere into the middle distance.

The next hour thrilled those who had weathered the elements and the delay to witness the show. This man, who’d become an afterthought in rock ’n’ roll history to many, put on an amazing, hypnotizing performance. As occasional lightning flashed in the distance, he pounded both hands on the piano keys and his music became a force, a driving rhythm, oddly similar to the rocking church services I had known as a child.

He laughed with the audience occasionally, growled at them regularly, and chastised his band members when they lost the beat. In a line of a song addressed directly to his evangelist cousin Jimmy Swaggart, he told him to leave him alone while he “got his kicks.”

He mixed rock ’n’ roll, country, and blues. He rearranged and made up lyrics; he often changed keys.

His music and lyrics took him to another place, somewhere far away. It seemed to me that he was alone with his genius in the midst of hundreds of screaming fans.

He poured everything he had into this performance, until he was exhausted and drenched in sweat. Then he dragged himself off the stool and, after another short bow, exited stage left.

That night, I knew I had witnessed one of the greatest rock ’n’ roll performers of all time. I have seen him countless times since, but the power of that first performance has never faded.

The music of Jerry Lee Lewis mesmerized me, as did the music of his first cousins Jimmy Swaggart and Mickey Gilley. As time went by, I became equally captivated by the human story within their music and behind it.

These three, less than a year apart in age, grew up together in the same small town where they were shaped by the music and white-hot theology of the Pentecostal church. The intensity of their music derived from the continuing struggle between themselves and something greater than themselves, between the material and the spiritual, and—in the largest sense—between heaven and earth.

xii

Each of these men has experienced great heights and excruciating lows. Yet, through it all, they survive, still playing, still performing, and still seeking to reconcile their internal contradictions.

Elmo KiddLEWIS

1902–1979

Elmo Jr.1929

Jerry Lee1935

Frankie Jean1944

Linda Gail1947

1902–1979Mary Ethel

“Mamie” Herron1912–1971

Irene LewisGILLEY

1900–1985

Aubrey1917

Ray1920

Edna1924

Mickey1936

1900–1985Arthur Fillmore

Gillley1897–1982

Ada LewisSWAGGART1895–1961

Willie Leon “Son”Swaggart

1915–1998

Jimmy1935

Donnie1940

Jeanette1941

1895–1961Willie Harry

“W. H.” Swaggart1893–1971

1915–1998Minnie Bell

Herron1917–1960

Anticipation

– 1 –

1

– Jerry –On a crisp Saturday evening in the Deep South, a black limousine rolls up to the VIP entrance behind a casino hotel. A man and woman step out of the car, checking their watches as event personnel rush to greet them. A moment later, an aging man emerges with difficulty from the backseat, helped to his feet by his two-person entourage. Jerry Lee Lewis has been here many times, in many seasons of his life. Tonight, he’s returned to wrest magic from a weary body and slowed yet still nimble fingers.

Inside the casino, a crowd forms in front of the doors leading to the performance hall, their chatter scarcely heard over the constant beckoning of blackjack dealers, the jingle of slot machines, and the shouts of rowdy patrons gathered around a craps table in the vast casino behind them. When the auditorium opens at 8 p.m., an hour before the scheduled performance, these early arrivers—the vanguard of his eclectic audience—flock to their seats.

There’s the white-collar professional who rolls in with his twenty-years-younger trophy wife; there’s the blue-collar roustabout who spent all week busting his ass and is looking to blow off some steam with his buddies.

“First time I saw him play was back in the early sixties in Bir-mingham,” recalls a middle-aged man whose belly bulges beneath his “Rock ’n’ Roll Lives” T-shirt. “I’ve seen him about twenty

J. D. Davis

2

times. Man, he can tear that piano up. I’ve never seen nothin’ like it.”

Another man comments, “We saw him at the Panther Club over in Fort Worth. He screamed at the guy runnin’ the sound and stomped off the stage ten minutes into the show and we all were just standing there lookin’ at each other and wonderin’, ‘What the hell?’”

“He was in Shreveport the year before my husband, Clyde, got sick,” says a blue-haired lady. “We drove up to see him. He only played about thirty minutes that night. He didn’t appear to be in very good condition.”

Most of the young fans attending tonight have never seen Lewis perform. But they’ve heard his records and know that his music remains as fresh as it was more than half a century ago, when his enduring hits were created.

Many older patrons were introduced to him during his second incarnation when, as a rock ’n’ roller shunned by the musical genre he helped birth, he found a haven in country music. These folks don’t frequent music venues anymore, and they don’t understand the music young people listen to nowadays. Even so, they understand the genius of Jerry Lee Lewis.

– Jimmy –On a bright Sunday morning, a steady flow of cars cruise along Bluebonnet Road in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Family Worship Center, the imposing church structure nestled next to this busy thoroughfare, no longer stands out the way it did twenty years ago, when it was one of only a handful of buildings on this long stretch of road. Now the church is nestled between the enormous Mall of Louisiana and a conglomeration of business and retail establishments.

Around 9 a.m., a full hour ahead of the start of the morning service, the church begins to fill with a constant stream of worship-

J. D. Davis

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– mickey –On Sunday evening, as the sun begins to slide over the hills west of town, traffic inches along Highway 76, the main drag through Branson, Missouri. Over the last twenty years, this sleepy Ozarks town has become a mecca of theaters, waterslides, miniature golf courses, and other amusements that serve the throngs who come here to escape their daily lives. Today, many of these travelers saunter into the theater that bears the name of Mickey Gilley, the country-music performer they came to hear and see.

In the theater lobby, a store selling music CDs and DVDs prominently displays Mickey’s friendly, smiling face. A raft of glossy 8-by-10s include images of him from earlier decades, showing the star sporting giant rings, open collars, and his signature “MG” diamond necklace.

This is a gathering primarily of people fifty and older. Mickey’s music has long been part of the backdrop of their lives. He played on the stereo as a family played spades at the kitchen table, as a mother perched on the edge of the bathtub applying alcohol and a Band-Aid to a son’s scratches, or as a father stayed up late making sure that questionable young man from across town got his daughter home by curfew.

Now, friendly debate occurs over which is the best of Mickey’s thirty-nine top ten country hits, while others remember visiting his storied club in Pasadena, Texas—long closed, but still retaining its distinction of being the world’s largest honky-tonk. “Do you remember when we went with Bill and Linda to see him perform?” a pretty, older woman in a flowered dress asks her balding husband. “He was great that night, but then Linda got upset with Bill for getting on that mechanical bull and making a fool of himself.”

As Mickey’s voice is piped in through the lobby speakers, many softly sing along to “You Don’t Know Me,” one of his number one country hits from the early 1980s. It’s a song that evokes tender memories of first kisses, and of slow dancing at the senior prom. They smile as they sing it. They know every note by heart.