By Rosalind Cummings-Yeates
STILL THE CHIEF
I
t’s a little bit intimidating walking into
The Chief’s home. His expansive
house sits on a corner of a Skokie street
topped with turrets and gabled windows,
like a small castle. His towering presence,
all six feet four inches of him, fills the
doorway and he has to stoop down to
greet his visitors. But as a grin spread
across his face and the graciousness that
when I was growing up,” he recalled.
“They advertised different bands on the
radio and I visualized what Louis Jordan
must have looked like on stage. I wanted
to go but I knew I was too young.”
Fittingly, Eddy’s very first blues club experience was at a West Side blues joint in
1953, when he was 18. “I was driving a cab
and I heard on the radio that Muddy
Eddy Clearwater
he’s known for oozed from his pores,
Eddy "The Chief" Clearwater let it be
known that all is welcoming inside his
house.
Sinking into his easy chair, surrounded
by finely crafted antiques, a rack of dozens
of his signature hats and various furry
stuffed animals favored by his wife Renee,
Eddy seemed relaxed and satisfied with
the life that he’s built for himself. And
what a life it is. Famous for his
sizzling,left-hand guitar riffs as well as his
rollicking stage presence, Clearwater is an
acknowledged master of the West Side
blues guitar. He can croon with the emotional power of a Southern preacher and
he can write songs that capture the humor
and the heartache that define the blues. He
has produced dozens of albums during a
career that spans over 50 years; many of
them including The Chief (Rooster Blues
1980), Cool Blues Walk (Bullseye Blues
1998), and Reservation Blues (Bullseye
Blues, 2000), genre-defining classics. He’s
collected Blues Foundation and W.C.
Handy Awards, a Grammy nomination
and a Mississippi Blues Trail Marker. He’s
performed all over the world and has yet
to slow down.
On the eve of his 81st birthday,
Clearwater has witnessed and achieved
more than he ever imagined when he was
growing up in Macon, Mississippi. “I was
born on a cotton field, there was cotton
and corn all around,” he said of his youth.
Raised by his grandparents, Eddy
Harrington was a well behaved boy who
rarely got into trouble. "One time, I went
with Lucious, my school buddy to play in
a wooded area during recess. We lost track
of time and we were late," he recalled.
They crept up to the one-room schoolhouse and were met at the door by their
teacher, Mrs. Beatrice Hunter. “She
spanked both of us,” said Eddy. “I was 12years-old and that was my last offense at
school. That was enough for me.”
Indeed, Eddy managed to stay on an
upright path never even sneaking into a
blues club to hear the music that transfixed
him. “I had never been inside a blues club
16 illinoisentertainer.com january 2016
Water was playing at the 708 Club. I was
driving around in that area and I drove to
the front of the club,” he said. “There was
a guy in a pretty white jacket and white
shoes talking with two ladies outside. I
heard one of them say, ‘that’s Muddy
Waters.’ I parked the cab and slipped
inside. I sat in a corner and ordered a coke,
I didn’t want to attract any attention. I
wanted to put all my attention on the
show. The songs were so effective. Little
Walter was on harmonica, Otis Spann was
on piano, it was a killer. It was way too
much. I got blues religion that night.”
Technically, Eddy had been baptized in
the blues way before he moved to C X