The sleepy little town of Oakhurst, California, is a long way from Fort Smith, Arkansas. It is also a different landscape and political climate compared to the back woods way of life. But that never stood in the way of Jimmy Collier’s passion for music, and making his voice heard.
Today his songs and recordings reside in the Library of Congress, and the Smithsonian Institute. But growing up in rural Arkansas, and being raised by his grandparents, it took a while for Collier to really find his passion. His home was full of musical instruments, and he fondly remembers his grandmother playing piano, surrounded by his whole family singing gospel tunes, every Sunday.
As a teenager, he experimented with vocal groups, played the drums, and the saxophone. “I really sucked at the sax,” he said. Moving on from doo wop corner groups, and a short career as a drummer, he eventually became a folk singer and recorded his early recordings on Folk Way records. These recordings were the ones that made it to Washington D.C.
In the mid ‘50s, Collier moved on from Arkansas, and into the big city of Chicago, to live with his uncle. “My youth was just wild, man,” Collier adds. “I needed a change.”He actually joined the Air Force at 15 years old, then served two years before he was discharged for his age. Now 17, Collier went on to college, ironically attending Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Community College in downtown Chicago. By the time 1962 rolled around he was already involved in the civil rights movement.
Collier was doing odd jobs, and a few musical gigs here and there. But before Collier could get out of Chicago and the struggles that accompanied everyday life, a higher power would need to come calling, and it soon came. When he was asked to deliver a truckload of goods down to Atlanta, Georgia, he gladly drove down and ended up staying. He ended up as a regular with the Southern Christian Leadership Conference circuit, which was headquartered there, and he always carried his guitar on his shoulder.
After hanging around for a few months, the leadership took note of young Collier, and soon he was asked to come ‘on staff’, which meant he would be receiving a subsistence paycheck, and be a part of a certain team. “I ended up being on the team that did non-violent demonstrations,” Collier says. “That was our team’s area of responsibility, headed up by a guy named James Bevel.”
The turbulent 60s affected Collier, and his style began to shift into more of a folk rock demeanor. His musical style had originally been more folk music, but now it took on a different tune, there was more meaning and messages in the lyrics. The beat was more driven, like the drums of war, pounding endlessly during the night.
As the movement grew and Dr. King travelled the country, he was asked to sing to the crowds before Dr. King would appear, as to assure King’s safe entry into the venue. “They didn’t want people to know when he would arrive, because it was so dangerous back then,” Collier said. “Sometimes I had to play for an hour or so, but more than a few times it would be two hours.”
The country was in turmoil then, and riots in Detroit and Los Angeles only fueled the movement. The freedom trains and marches were instrumental to Collier’s ears, and he wrote some of his most memorable works during this time. His most famous tune was Burn Baby Burn, written days after the Watts riots took their toll on the masses. Collier and his team of musicians wrote many revised spirituals and rhythm and blues tunes to accommodate the movement. This collection of songs now belongs to and resides in the Smithsonian Institute.
Collier was grouped into a collage of musicians at the time, who were recording with Folkway Records, owned by Moe Ash. There was Bob Dylan, Phil Oaks, Pete Seeger, and Joan Baez, to name a few. “Pete Seeger asked me to play with him on a tour with Kris Kristofferson, Rita Coolidge and Mary Travers,” he said. “We ended up playing in the Houston Astrodome. Now I know how the Black Eyed Peas felt at the Super Bowl.”
The movement picked up steam and he became more recognizable now. The old white southerners had a profound hatred for the movement and anyone who worked with them. For Jimmy, it was even hard to buy guitar strings, or picks for his axe. Finally, after gaining the trust of the conference members and hierarchy, Collier was treated to a new guitar. Apparently, Dr. King’s right hand man, Dr. Ralph Abernathy noticed Colliers guitar was missing some strings, and was in need of a tune-up. Abernathy convinced Dr. King to give Collier the $500 cash for a new guitar.”Man back in 1963 that was a helluva guitar for $500,” says Collier. “Most guys just hit the pawn shops on the weekends.”
For Jimmy, a part of his life will always be remembered for his time and relationship with the SCLC, and more importantly the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. One time they were touring the South in 1966 on their non-violent demonstrations, when Dr. Abernathy inquired into the relationship Collier had with his friend Sherry Land. When he replied “we’re in love man”, Abernathy pulled Dr. King aside and whispered something. Later that afternoon Collier stood before him with Ms. Land, and answered to a higher power. The two were married under the authority of the great Dr. King. “I still have that marriage license signed by Dr. King,” he said. “I really wish someone had a camera at the time. But back then we were all living in the moment, a moment in time.”
In the mid ‘60’s, Dr. King wrote a job letter of reference for Collier, and he presented it to Harry Bridges, the head of the Longshoreman’s Union in San Francisco.
That job lasted until Dr. Abernathy launched the Poor Peoples Campaign in late 1967, and Collier drove out to help out. He was diverted up to upstate New York to help Pete Seeger on the Clearwater Project, on the Hudson River. This eventually led to a concert at Carnegie Hall, arranged by classical music promoters sympathetic to the cause.
Unfortunately the cause appeared to be derailed when Dr. King was assassinated on April 4, 1968. The emotional tragedy gripped the whole nation. The movement seemed deflated and fruitless. However, the SCLC and other leaders decided to continue the Poor People’s Campaign in Dr. King’s honor with a two week protest by demonstrators in Washington D.C. The same month thousands of poor people set up a shantytown in the nation’s capitol, better known as ‘Resurrection City’.
Collier remembers the frustration and sadness at this time.
The city was shut down in mid June when Police and the National Guard forced the whole entourage out with water cannons and horse mounted patrols. For Collier, it was time to move on. He and a friend went up to Canada and he continued his music, albeit with a different tone.
His travels ultimately led him to the foothills above Fresno, settling into a ranch in Mariposa, before moving up to the Cedar Valley area of Oakhurst. Miles above the fog, he can finally take a deep breath and look back on his colorful, yet humble career.
