Blues Singer Blackie Jo James , a Former Fremont Fixture

By Yayoi Lena Winfrey

Blackie Jo James and her band.

A musical fixture in Fremont for more than ten years, James was born in New Orleans. Pronouncing it New Or-lee-ahns, she talks about bickering with a local disc jockey that insisted on saying New Or-leens.

"That broad argued me down...because she said I did not pronounce it right," James says in her raspy voice. "I said, 'sister, you're trippin'. I was going to request something (to play on the radio) and she argued me down about my birthplace."

In the middle of finals for her business administration degree, James good-naturedly agreed to discuss her life as a sultry, smoky-voiced vocalist.

"I first came here in the late 1970s," she says.

After settling in Fremont "on and off for 9 1/2 years", James recently moved because "people felt like I had to have company all the time. Even though I loved these people (fans, friends, family and musicians), they didn't understand that I wanted to be alone," she sighs.

"I have one kid and I had the 'mommy' house (on 39th and Greenwood) where all the kids wanted to be. I fixed them homemade cookies. I would mix strawberry Kool-aid and grape juice and freeze it up. We called it iceberg. Those women would have to come get those kids."

Her son, now 20, is a drummer who performed in the Robert Johnson Festival with his mom.

As the second eldest of four sisters, James "had a good fun life growing up. We grew up protected. You hit my sister and it's on."

Yet danger lurked nearby.

"In the back yard were pepper trees bushes about 4 feet tall and loaded with green peppers that ripen up to yellow, orange and red. Every now and then, you'd find a white one. They were the smallest peppers you could grow and hot as hell if they went down the wrong side of your throat. You would absolutely lose your voice. The old folks called them snake peppers. Garter snakes and king snakes liked those peppers a lot. When I was nine, I saw this snake open up his mouth and eat (one) and his eyes were red as hell."

James grew up "listening to my mom playing John Coltrane". Her music career was launched when her older sister began singing.

"Her husband started us when I was 14. After listening to our voices, he said, 'Glenda--that's my real name--I want you as the lead singer.' He had a band and was on the road with Little Richard and Joe Simon. I was too young and too scared."

In Seattle, James found the courage to sing in public.

"After 1 1/2 years out here, I got over my stage fright when I saw (a popular local singer) in Pioneer Square. I couldn't believe how bad that woman sang. If she's got enough guts to do that, I said, I could do that. She sounded to me like a cow with a bellyache and I could not understand the way they gave her a big buildup."

Brazen at times, James is also vulnerable.

"What really hurt me one time, (someone) asked me to do a benefit for abused and battered women. All week long I kept hearing the ad on the radio and it didn't mention me. I wasn't in the paper. When we went to do the gig, for free, when we set up I saw that I was last (on the bill) but I looked around, saw a lot of battered women and stayed because I've been there."

And, she's a fighter.

"I've been singing for 16 years, 10 years in Fremont (it) was really rough and the Gypsy Jokers (bikers) tried to run me out. They got in my face and tried to tell me stuff, but I was fly. I told them it's a free country. They had jam sessions on Sunday nights. One night I got drunk and (dressed) in cut off jeans. They wouldn't let me sign the roster to go onstage."

Pulling down her jeans James "told them, 'kiss my pretty black ass.' I had no drawers on."

As for her unusual moniker, James says, "When I was born, they thought I was going to be a boy and everybody gave me boy nicknames. Blackie Jo James was a black wrestler in the '30s. When I started, music was so dominated by men. I thought if I used that name, people would be surprised when they saw me. (The music business) is a man thing with real big egos. It had me crying all the time with real tears as a rookie singer."

Although James no longer resides in Fremont proper (she moved to the east side of Aurora), she and her band are still playing. Catch Blackie Jo and the Natives June 23 around 8 p.m. at The Wellington Tea Room in Columbia City.

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