Remembering Johnny

Kris Kristofferson

I was his janitor for a year and a half at Columbia Records Studio, and I pitched John every song I ever wrote. He never cut any of them then, but he was always encouraging. He even carried one set of my lyrics around in his wallet, and at the time that was enough for me. Then when he got his television show, it was a really important phase in the development of country music here in Nashville. He brought in a lot of people who weren't normally in Nashville, like Joni Mitchell, Linda Ronstadt, James Taylor, Ray Charles. He put me on the show, too, and he recorded my song "Sunday Mornin' Coming Down" and made it Record of the Year. I never had to work another job again.

John was my hero a long time before I ever met him. He represented so much that appealed to me — like freedom. He was willing and able to be the champion of people who didn't have one. And I think the power of his performance came from the tension between this man who was deeply spiritual and also a real wild man. I can see how rappers would love that "I shot a man in Reno" attitude. But to me, he doesn't represent danger, he represents integrity. And, Jesus, that's just what we can't afford to lose today.

Bono

Every man could relate to him, but nobody could be him. To be that extraordinary and that ordinary was his real gift. That, and his humor and his bare-boned honesty. When I visited him at home one time, he said the most beautiful, poetic grace. He said, "Shall we bow our heads?" We all bowed our heads. Then, when he was done, he looked at me and Adam Clayton and said, "Sure miss the drugs, though." It was just to say, "I haven't become a holy Joe." He just couldn't be self-righteous. I think he was a very godly man, but you had the sense that he had spent his time in the desert. And that just made you like him more. It gave his songs some dust. And that voice was definitely locusts and honey. As for "Hurt," it's perhaps the best video ever made.

I was telling somebody just the other day, "We're all sissies in comparison to Johnny Cash." And he was a zookeeper, too. Did you know he was nearly killed by an emu on his property? He told me, "That emu damn near killed me. I defended myself with a post." But he was laughing as he told the story.

So Johnny Cash passed away after seeing off the love of his life. That's such a different outcome than death by emu. We should be grateful.

Al Gore

When I was elected to congress twenty-seven years ago, my district included Johnny Cash's home in Hendersonville, twenty-five minutes north of Nashville. Back then, there was only one personal connection, through June Carter Cash, whom my father had known when she was a girl performing with her legendary family on WSM radio.

As I got to know Johnny Cash the man, I loved his music much more — not for the normal reason that you appreciate the work of your friends, but because it was just obvious at close range that what made his songs so great was that the man himself was deep, deep, deep.

He had felt a lot of pain in his life (though he told me a few months ago that the worst pain he ever felt was when he lost June last May). But midway through his life, he found the strength to learn from his mistakes, acknowledge them honestly and transcend them.

And maybe because of what he had gone through, he felt a deep connection to the suffering of others. He was to the left of me on many issues; for example, he was against the death penalty. He cared about social conditions and wanted laws and policies that would help the poor and disadvantaged. You could always tell when he talked about what was going on in America that he cared most of all for those who have a tough row to hoe.

To my ears, his songs have always been beautiful, powerful and moving in a completely original way. In fact, I remember arguing with Rolling Stone's critic who reviewed Johnny's last album with what I thought was too-faint praise. His music will grow considerably in stature as time passes. That unusually strong connection between the soul of the artist and the integrity of his art will lift it up and set it apart, and its rare beauty will be more readily recognized, because it draws its power from that shimmering link between song and soul.