Cover photo © 2024 Bob Kieser

Chicago bluesman Fernando Jones cannot wait to relaunch his acclaimed theatrical play. “Spring of ’25—we’re puttin’ it on again,” said the guitarist, vocalist, performer, songwriter, author, playwright, lecturer, historian, visual artist, actor and educator about his play, I Was There When The Blues Was Red Hot.

Now scheduled for performances at Chicago’s ETA Creative Arts Foundation, 7558 S South Chicago Ave., Jones’s enthusiasm is palpable. The charismatic man of many creative pursuits, with Blues Music at the center, makes believers of his audience.

“When we first opened at the historic Palm Tavern it was supposed to run for two nights, Friday, October 2 and 9, 1998. It ended up running for three years. 256 shows.”

For a historical perspective, the inaugural performance of “I Was There When The Blues Was Red Hot” took place at the Palm Tavern back in ’98. The tavern was on the city’s knock-down list to make way for new construction that has yet to come about. The last crown jewel standing on 47th Street in Brownsville, The Palm Tavern entertained the likes of Duke Ellington, Sarah Vaughn, Billy Holiday, B. B. King and most every star who played at the Regal Theater across the street from the 1930s on.

“One day we were rehearsing for the play, and Howard Reich from the Chicago Tribune came by to talk to Mama Gerri [Oliver]. He had no idea who we were or why we were there. In those days there was never more than 2 people in there all day. It was the end of the line for the Palm Tavern. It and Mama Gerry were on borrowed time. Unbeknownst to us—the cast— there were City plans to get her place removed from 47th Street. Howard was there to do a feature story showcasing Gospel and Jazz, and discovered us, The Palm Tavern Players. Long story short, when we got wind of the potentiality of the Palm Tavern’s closing that Fall, I started a petition to keep it open. Besides, we had a theatrical production to mount in October,” said Jones.

Thus, it became Jones’s theater venue which extended The Palm’s life before it finally succumbed to the wrecking ball in 2001.

Jones’s own musical journey began at the age of 4. He admired his musically inclined 12-year-old big brother, Greg, so much that he wanted to follow suit to be accepted. Greg was the third son in a family of four boys and Fernando was the youngest. At first, the youngster attempted to play his brother’s instruments when he was away or at school. Fernando was frequently caught. But after being busted so often, big brother Greg began to show little Fernando some chords.

“Greg not only played guitar, he played everything else. He was like Prince, man, back in the day. He had a Wurlitzer organ where he showed me how to stretch my fingers out on keyboard. Not many people had organs in their homes back then. If you wanted to learn it, you’d usually have to go to church or school. But he had one. And to this day I still have that Wurlitzer.”

Jones grew into the Blues through club visits accompanied by his brothers.

“When I was a little guy, my older brother, Foree who we called Big Flo, would take me to Theresa’s Lounge when I was like four or five years old. My earliest memory was meeting Junior Wells. He was the first significant Bluesman that I’d met. But when I got to college, I was able to go into the clubs on my own. Theresa’s had moved to 43rd Street, a couple blocks East of the Checkerboard. I got a chance to play the Checkerboard as a teen. Big Flo would play other venues and frat parties, and I would get a chance to go and play too. So, I’m one of those guys that has always been there, but it wasn’t planned for me to be anybody— it wasn’t like we were trying to be the Jackson 5 or anything, not that anything would have been wrong with that,” he laughed.

Jones had a keen radar for observing cultural shifts and the sounds that accompanied them; musical influences planted many seeds in his fertile mind. As a child, he projected himself into seeing and hearing the world through his elder’s eyes and ears.

“On one hand, I was interested in the guitar on my own but, by way of my brother, I was exposed to so much. When 1968 came around, we’re coming up on the Woodstock era, right? There were hippies, black hippies, and there were Blacks playing music and experimenting with narcotics and things like that. And the music reflected it. So, my brother was listening to all the Rock and Roll stuff, you know: Deep Purple, Iron Butterfly, Santana; all of the things that you might find in a Eurocentric household were also in mine. Then you had my parents and all the other Black parents in the neighborhood listening to Stax and Chess recordings. And my Godmother up the street in the ’70s, whenever that came to be, you know, maybe 1974/75, she was playing the Philadelphia sound. It was all there for me to absorb.”

Jones expressed his observations on the instrumentation that came to the fore with each ensuing musical period.

“Coming out of the ‘60s, you had the Rock and Roll guitar; if you didn’t have a guitar in your band, you didn’t have a band. But somewhere around ’68 to about ’72, if you didn’t have an organ in your band, you didn’t have a band because there was Emerson, Lake & Palmer, and all those different groups. And you had Stevie Winwood and Traffic and all that kind of stuff. And then in the mid ‘70s, if you didn’t have horns, you didn’t have a band. You know, it was cyclical. So, I was inspired by all of those different sounds.”

The impact of television was also significant to the musical prodigy. The music shows like Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert and The Midnight Special were nighttime staples and dance shows featuring guest performances—American Bandstand and Soul Train—were afternoon favorites.

“All the while, I’m looking at these guys play. And I’m putting my fingers in the frets where I’d see their fingers go. So that’s a part of my training. My older brother: pure Blues. TV and radio: everything else. I had these two worlds coming in strong; a modern world and an ancient world,” he laughed again.

The deeper into Fernando’s past, the more his emotional stake in the Blues is revealed.

“The most progressive Black blues song that I can remember hearing on WVON was ‘Wang Dang Doodle,’ the Koko Taylor version. And you kind of knew it was Blues yet modern, Funky and radio friendly, but then sometimes you’d hear a deep track of Muddy. And because my folks had all come from Mississippi, I’d hear stories. I had relatives that knew these people, knew Muddy and Howlin’ Wolf. Knew them and loved them.”

As a Chicago born child of dyed-in-the-wool Mississippi migrants, lessons were hard-earned and not taken lightly.

“My family-at-large always talked to us about race, race relations, how to survive, and how not to be a victim. Most Black women, whether mothers or teenagers at the time Emmett Till was killed, especially the Blacks who had migrated from Mississippi to Chicago, identified with the horror of those circumstances; consequently, it impacted what you did with your own children: your kids went to Mississippi for the summer to be in touch with their other family members. And then every other summer, your Mississippi cousins came to the Chicago.”

He continued, “We always knew we were Black, and we didn’t look at it as a strike against us, but it became a reality of who we were, and our pride, and how to be two or three times better than whoever you were competing against, so on and so forth. When I came up, White folks didn’t hide letting you know that you weren’t them, like them or have privileges and access to the world, information and finer things in life like they had.”

“I remember watching Martin Luther King’s funeral procession on TV. When it took place, I was at the next entrance in an apartment with one of my little playmates watching their black-and- white TV. I saw the wagon and casket and I knew what that meant. I understood life and death, and I understood hatred, and I understood the power that music had in bringing people together. And that’s what the Blues is about for me. It reflects a condition and provides a means to share the feelings to deal with it.”

Jones reflected on his chosen instrument and what it means to him.

“I always play because I’m always creating. I’m always writing songs and I have a responsibility to the band to create the content. But it’s so natural. I was able to look at the guitar as my friend, more so than as an instrument that makes music. I think I was dependent on it because it was a way for me to be sociable and to cover up from areas that I might’ve been shy in. But unlike a lot of my contemporaries that started playing at 16 or 20 years old, I didn’t know that you were supposed to pattern yourself after somebody. I was just trying to fit in with my brothers!”

“There are times when I think it might’ve been a much easier road for me to start playing at 16 and copy the four or five great guitarists and imitate them, but that was not my road. And my hat is off to the cats that have done that and can do it. But not having copied anyone because I started so early, maybe for me it’s a more organic thing. I treat it as my own language—which is what they say any musician is supposed to develop into anyway.”

Fernando Jones’s musical language has matured and evolved in innovative ways. His prolific songwriting brilliance is showcased on CDs, Stranded, Whodoyuvoodu, The Slaves Eat First, and his groundbreaking genre-busting American Bluesman (available on all music platforms). Moreover, he has compiled a surplus of recorded original material in his digital archives that may eventually see release. In addition to penning the cooker “Oil and Water” for Nellie “Tiger” Travis, songsters and songstresses Barkin’ Bill, Foree Superstar, Marilyn Clair, Jackie Scott and the late great Eddie Shaw have been recipients of Jones’s formidable composing talents.

So where else would this energetic multi-talented musician, playwright and entrepreneur apply his skills? Teaching, of course. Along with a self-designed Blues curriculum at Columbia College Chicago, his Blues Kids Foundation’s Blues Camp is a thriving learning entity that is going on 16 years of success now. And his Blues Kids of America program is in its 36th year. The program is attractive not just among the college-aged, but to young and aspiring Blues musicians.

The evidence of Fernando Jones’s musical talents can be witnessed far and wide in night clubs, televised performances, YouTube, on CDs and media platforms. His achievements in pedagogy are evident in schools and cultural centers as a noted educator and lecturer. Last, but not least, his drawings and communication design are testimony to his visual acumen. What can’t the man do?

Catch Fernando Jones & My Band feat. Felton Crews and Patrick McFowler appearing at the 15th Annual Blues Camp Holiday Fundraiser “Red Party,” Sat. Dec 14th, 6PM-Midnight, Knotty Luxe, 3442 W. 159th Street, Markham, Il. The event will include special guests The Kappa Choir, and TMM and the Blues Mamas & Daddies.

For info: (779) 258-3763 or BluesKids.com. Attendance is Free, Donations Appreciated.

For info visit https://www.fernandojones.com