Jackie Brenston

Sometimes I'm amazed at the reasons behind my gut reactions.

Ike Turner passed away today ... and this bothers me. But it's not the kind of "bother" you probably are thinking of. As far as I'm concerned, it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. I hope it was long and drawn out. I hope he was in a LOT of pain for many, many months. I hope he experienced embarrassment as his body shut down. I hope he mentally stayed aware for the entire journey.

And it's that gut feeling of repulsion that I'm talking about when I say that it "bothered" me to read of Ike's passing. He never did a thing to me, after all – I shouldn't care, honestly. It shouldn't even bug me that people are giving him credit left and right for possibly the first Rock and Roll recording – "Rocket 88" – which I know to be actually the work of Jackie Brenston. Jackie sang lead on this recording – AND Jackie is credited with writing the damn thing - but Jackie was a member of Ike's band and, when all was said and done, Ike was the one who stayed in the business longest so … there ya' go.

So why do I feel such … hatred … towards a now-dead man I'd never even met?

Because my sister was a victim of domestic violence for many years, by two different individuals, and I was the one she called each time she needed to be rescued.

Each time, we'd sit quietly in my apartment, not saying much … 'cause there wasn't much to say. I'd told her a million times that we weren't raised to be treated this way, and she'd agree. I'd tell her that she was smarter than this - that she could stay with me for as long as she needed. (I learned early on in her relationships to NEVER give out my actual living address, so she'd have a safe place to hide. It's a habit, I've realized, I continue to practice to this very day.) We'd clean her up, the sounds of our pounding hearts echoing hard in our heads and, depending on how bad off she was and her state of mind, sometimes she'd allow me to photograph her injuries, with a newspaper in the photo as proof of the date. (Amazing how good I got at knowing to do this stuff.)

After some time had passed, my older sister, who suddenly seemed so small and helpless, so lost and scared, would ask me to drive her back home, and I knew that she'd go back even if I refused to give her a lift so it was just easier to agree to do so.

So there ya' go. For the next couple of days, Ike Turner and his many (dubious) accomplishments will be in the news and on the radio.

No one said a word (that I can remember anyway) when Jackie Brenston died on December 15, 1979 in Memphis, TN. We don't know if Jackie was a better artist, or a better husband, or a better human being … and I guess we'll never know those things. Hardly seems fair, right? Very few things are, 'tho.

In case you're wondering, my sister is no longer in a relationship where she needs to hide or be afraid each night. I can't say that she's in relationship-bliss either, but at least I know she won't experience any harm. Unfortunately the lessons that I learned from her experiences obviously are still with me.

I hope that someday I can't remember those days. And I also hope that someday Jackie Brenston will receive proper credit on recording the first Rock and Roll record.