Modelled on an Old West poster, it featured an intense close-up of Johnny’s face — primarily his dark eyes — overlaid with a shot from the waist up, playing the guitar. Above, it read “Wanted” in Old West–style font, and underneath, “Johnny Cash: Americana’s Most Wanted Singin’ Storyteller.” In case there was any doubt, smaller text below that assured Cash was a “Song Singin’, Gun Slingin’, Cash Register Ringin’, Entertainer…. Here is a man who packs ’em in every time he calls a meetin’ … a man whose face and voice are known the length and breadth of the land … a man whose arrival in any city, town, or village starts people to talkin’, whistlin’, and toe tappin’, in anticipation of seeing and hearing him.”
The moniker of “Singin’ Storyteller” stuck, and it took on different incarnations over the years as others picked up the catchy phrase and ran with it. But it was innovative and did the job.12
The Carnegie Hall show was the next piece of the puzzle Saul needed to lock down. As a venue, it was the perfect backdrop to crystallize what had become his grand vision of a travelling country music extravaganza. Who else could he imagine on that stage? There was no question that women filled out the show and offered both a balance and an edge to the performance. This presented a dilemma, however. On the Newfoundland tour there had been another significant setback, and this one involved Rose Maddox. Halfway through the tour she had received news from her husband, Jimmy, that their son had signed up for the U.S. Marine Corps. Devastated and concerned for his safety, she told Cash she had to leave immediately and dropped everything to fly home to Oceanside, California, in an attempt to stop him. She never returned, and it was the last tour she ever worked with the troupe as their featured female singer.13
There had been other issues, too; though she was unaware of Cash’s growing drug problem, Maddox was beginning to tire of his unreliability and the rescheduling of show dates it entailed. When he flew off to placate Vivian during their Newfoundland tour, it had simply driven a point home — that his domestic conflicts were not improving. There was also a sexual tension between Maddox and Cash that had gone unrealized, until one night in a hotel room after a show in Calgary. Lying beside her in a bed, Cash tossed and turned and finally left, saying, “I’m goin’ back down to my room. I can’t stand bein’ this close to you.”
Surprised by his interest, Maddox later confronted Cash, who tried to convince her to be with him. “I want you completely or not at all,” he said.
Maddox curtly informed him she had no intention of cheating on her husband, but he continued to pursue her, which only added to her discomfort and eventual decision to leave.14
Fond of Maddox and appreciative of her reliability and talent, if nothing more, Saul was at a loss. Aside from the designs he had on Carnegie Hall, they had a number of upcoming performances peppered with notable venues like the Dallas Sportatorium, which was to host the Big D Jamboree in Dallas in early December, and the KRNT Theatre in Des Moines, Iowa. He needed someone reliable, and a crowd-pleaser. Patsy Cline was a possible replacement. “One of the boys,” as Johnny Western liked to say. She was a hard-drinking, dirty-joking road veteran with a wide smile and raucous laugh, and had toured with Cash previously. Renowned for her emotional delivery, her popularity was swiftly rising. “I Fall to Pieces” had hit number one on the charts earlier in the year, and she was the first female performer in that era to both demand and receive equal billing with her male counterparts.
The year 1961 had been a whirlwind for the singer, from the birth of her second child to her growing star power, which was highlighted when she joined the Grand Ole Opry and then took the stage with more than a dozen Opry performers at Carnegie Hall in November of that year. A near-fatal head-on collision in June had sent Cline to the hospital for a month and left her with a severely scarred forehead, after which she soon hit the road again — on crutches — and made it back into the studio by mid-August to record “Crazy,” penned by little-known singer-songwriter Willie Nelson. She first heard the song when her husband and manager Charlie Dick drove Nelson out to their house at 1:00 a.m. and pulled Cline out of bed to listen to it.15
Likely Saul’s first choice for the upcoming Big D show on December 9, Cline probably turned down the invitation due to exhaustion: by mid-December the singer had been diagnosed with “a nervous breakdown” and was prescribed two weeks of bed rest. Besides, once the knockout success “Crazy” — a pop hit as well as a country one — climbed the charts, she began to command top dollar, which made her a little pricier than Maddox. However, Saul kept her in mind as an asset for the bigger shows like the Country Music Extravaganza he was planning for the Hollywood Bowl. In the meantime, they needed someone quick for the Dallas performance on the Big D Jamboree in Dallas on December 9; someone who was affordable, charming, and possessed of an enigmatic stage presence.16
“We need a girl singer on the show,’” Saul said to Johnny when they next spoke. “They want more than just you and your band.”
“Well, get one,” said Johnny.
Saul thought for a moment. “What do you think about June Carter?”
Clever and confident, June had been a veteran stage performer since the age of ten and hailed from the legendary Carters, considered one of the founding families of country music, though their reach and influence had waned in recent years. Johnny had grown up hearing June’s voice on XERA radio, a border station with a strong signal out of Del Rio, Texas, and the first time he had ever seen June onstage at the Grand Ole Opry he’d been just a teenager. On a field trip with his classmates from Dyess High School, he watched enraptured as she sang and played guitar and five-string banjo, and performed a sort of comedy routine alongside the Texas Troubadour, singer Ernest Tubb. It seemed funny now in hindsight, because the songwriter with whom Johnny had recently been carousing in Nashville was Glenn, Ernest Tubb’s nephew.
Johnny grinned at the memory of June’s onstage antics. “I’ve always been a fan of hers. Get her if you can,” he told Saul.17
In the days leading up to his performance on the Big D radio show, Johnny may have reflected on another meeting he’d had with June Carter, which later became one of his favourite stories. On July 7, 1956, he visited the Opry again, but this time as a performer. After an introduction from June’s husband, country singer Carl Smith, Johnny launched into a performance of “So Doggone Lonesome” in a sombre black suit and ruffled white shirt, a contrast to the sea of cowboy hats and checkered flannel. It was the first number of a three-song set, but it was backstage that was most memorable for him. That was where he ran into June, who recalled that while they talked his “black eyes shone like agates.”18
Already familiar with Johnny Cash, June had heard his music while touring with Elvis as part of the Carter Family, Elvis’s opening act. While on the road, Elvis would incessantly pump nickels into jukeboxes and listen to Cash’s songs whenever they stopped to eat at diners. Elvis also tuned his guitar by singing the opening line to one of Cash’s songs.19
Like June, Cash was also married, and his “I Walk the Line” ode to Vivian was then climbing the charts. The way Cash told the story of that first meeting is that he walked right up to June and told her he was going to marry her someday. “Well, good,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t wait.”20
It would be five years until the pair met again on the Big D show, and Johnny was late.
Aired from a large multi-purpose arena called the Sportatorium, the Big D Jamboree was a barn dance and radio program fashioned in the manner of the Grand Ole Opry and Louisiana Hayride. The barn-like venue featured an octagonal seating arrangement that could hold more than 6,300 spectators, though it was primarily used to host wrestling matches. Aside from seating the audience, the arena offered performers an opportunity for exposure through its radio show on KRLD, which had such a wide range it reached listeners in forty states. By the early 1960s, competition with television had begun to affect audience turnouts and interest in country music variety shows had begun a slow decline. Despite this, Saul felt it remained an important tool for exposure.21
Busy with the band’s two sets, Johnny didn’t even see June until after the show. Bound for a show in Oklahoma City later that night, Cash, Johnny