Jimi Hendrix

[Boris Bernshteyn]

Так случилось, что познакомившись с Роном Расселом, я услышал от него новую версию смерти этого музыканта. Здесь можно ознакомиться с этой версией, если продраться сквозь тернии и английский.
Но, у кого пытливый ум, то может быть ему и интересно будет все это почитать.

http://crosstowntorrents.org/showthread.php?864-The-Jimi-Hendrix-Political-Harassment-Kidnap-and-Murder-Experience/page12

[Игорь Куницкий]

Целый детектив. Сплошные убийства при невыясненных обстоятельствах, начиная с Мартина Лютера Кинга...

[Boris Bernshteyn]

Олег Гладков, Толя Вейценфельд, Женя Саламатин и все кто знает английский, давайте попробуем разобраться в этой версии гибели Хендрикса. Она и приведена в моей ссылке, но напечатана почему-то в страшно не читаемом виде.
Это и есть версия моего нового знакомого, которого зовут Ron Russell. Я ее услышал от него в устном пересказе, а здесь печатная версия.
Сам я не уверен 100% в ее достоверности. Интересно будет услышать ваше мнение

[Олег Гладков]

[noae]

Она и приведена в моей ссылке, но напечатана почему-то в страшно не читаемом виде.

[/noae]

Небольшой танец с бубном над MSWord, и вид стал страшно читаемым.

[noae]

The Truth Behind The Death Of Jimi Hendrix

By Armond Blackwater as told by Ron Russell

Ron Russell developed his love of music at an early age. Perhaps, he was even born with the love.

Ron's father took him to a Gene Krupa concert when Ron was only six years old. Gene Krupa was the great drummer of the big band era. Krupa was a contemporary of Glenn Miller, Bennie Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, etc. -- The Swing Era players. Krupa inspired many drummers, like Buddy Rich, or potential drummers. I would say that Gene Krupa was the Carl Palmer of his day. Understand, of course, that I judge Carl Palmer as the best percussionist of our time and I tend to measure all drummers against him. If you don't agree just insert your candidates name and that is how good Gene Krupa was. Not just the best, there was no one else in Krupa's class at the time. Seeing Gene Krupa perform set off a raging fire in young Ron Russell.

"That's what I want to do," Ron stated emphatically, "That's what I want to be."

So, for his next birthday Ron's father bought him a set of drums, Kent drums as Ron remembers them. His father also arranged for Ron to take lessons from a local jazz legend whose name Ron no longer remembers. Ron studied with the man for a year, but death claimed his professor ending the lessons. The professor died of cirrhosis of the liver, a very common ailment among musicians of the time.

Shortly thereafter, Ron's family moved to Xenia, Ohio where Ron studied under the professor of percussion at Ohio State University. Ron proved to be a natural drummer. He absorbed the lessons and tapped into the rhythm of the universe. He became one with his drumming.

In 1960, Ron's father, who was an electrical engineer, was selected for a position as a scientist at Cape Canaveral. The Russell family left Xenia and moved to Satellite Beach on the Florida Space Coast. Ron continued his percussion practice relentlessly. He continued to study and expand his prowess of the beat.

In 7th grade Ron formed a band with a few local musicians. The group played local teen dances, parties, and eventually wound up in the club scene. 7th, 8th, and 9th grades are particularly rough times in the development process for teenagers in the United States. It is an awkward time when bodies are changing, hormones are raging, and passing through various social gauntlets can be excruciating. Being in a band granted identity to the players as well as exposure as one of the cool cats. Plus, chicks dig musicians for some reason. I never ask why, but it is true and I am thankful for it.

Ultimately, the band that came out of high school and burst upon the Tampa music scene was named Raindriver. The band included Ron on drums and Wally Dance on bass. Subsequently, Waldemeer "Wally" Dance joined the Belamy Brothers in 1980 and has been playing with them ever since.

Not long after the bands move from Satellite Beach, Raindriver became the premier act in Tampa. They performed as the openers for many of the big name groups of the day, such as Blue Oyster Cult, REO Speedwagon and others.

The band also played the Tampa club scene. Among the gigs they played was a classy venue called The Men's Garden Club where they would host a weekly jam session. Raindriver would set up their amplifiers, drums, and PA (Public Address) equipment and invite musicians to "sit in" with the band. It gave local musicians a chance to showcase their talents, meet other musicians, find a gig, or earn a free drink or two.

The turbulent 1960's were coming to a close. The Viet Nam conflict was at its height of savagery, butchery, and insanity. Hippies were preaching a message of love, peace, and expanding your mind. Drugs became a favourite method of mind expansion. "Tune in, turn on and drop out" was the often repeated doctrine of acid-guru Timothy Leary. Marijuana, LSD, and cocaine were the expanders that the hippie generation chose, plus two deadly old favourites: alcohol and heroin. The word on the street was that all of those treats could be found at The Men's Garden Club – where the hippies were.

Raindriver had just completed a set and were taking a break. Ron sought refuge from the crowd and the madness under a tree to the side of the stage. A limousine pulled up to the entrance of the club. People started yelling excitedly, "It's Hendrix. It's Hendrix." Frenzy broke out as Jimi Hendrix emerged the limo. The tall guitarist rapped with fans and signed autographs. He also obtained a vile of heroin from a skinny cat by the name of Ron Wells.

Meanwhile, Ron Russell sat under a tree enjoying the calm. Ron wasn't a Hendrix fan. Ron's musical tastes ran more towards jazz than rock and roll. He had heard of Hendrix, but wasn't very familiar with his work. "I wasn't really into Hendrix," Ron explains, "at the time," he adds with a chuckle. Ron felt a warm rushing wind surround him. Ron could smell a scent that was wonderful, but hard to describe. Ron knew from past experience that his "best friend" was about to speak to him.

"Go talk to Jimi. You have something in common," the voice said. Ron rose and started walking toward Jimi Hendrix.

"What do we have in common?" Ron asked the voice.

The voice merely repeated, "Talk to Jimi. You have something in common."

Hendrix watched Ron curiously as he approached. Jimi asked Ron, "Man, are you crazy?"

Ron replied, "No, I'm a rather intelligent person. Why?"

"Then, are you a ventriloquist or something?" Jimi probed further.

A large smile broke on Ron's face, "You heard the voice, didn't you?"

Jimi responded, "Yeah, man. I heard you talking to someone and I heard him, but there wasn't anyone there."

"Congratulations," Ron beamed, "you are one of the few who has heard the audible voice of God." Jimi looked puzzled. "Are you familiar with the baptism of the Holy Spirit? Have you accepted Jesus?"

"Oh, that religion shit. I don't believe in that crap," Hendrix replied.

Jimi didn't believe in organized religion. He felt that the spiritual message had been lost to power struggles and greed.

As Monika Dannemann recounted in her book the inner world of Jimi Hendrix,  [1] "Jimi explained that he felt the Church had knowledge and wisdom, but that this had to be given in the right way to the people. Much of what is said is right, but seems false. He thought that the Church concealed too much, had distanced itself from the people it wanted to reach, and was not effective in putting across the message of God to the people."

Ron Russell had come to a similar conclusion years before.

"The voice told me that we have something in common," Ron continued. "Did you ever know Dr. Martin Luther King?"

Hendrix replied, "No, I didn't. I always wanted to meet him. He was one of my heroes."

Monika Dannemann confirmed Jimi's love of the civil rights leader,  [2] "Jimi had great admiration for Martin Luther King and the way he had made important advances for the black cause by peaceful methods. I remember that he spoke of King as someone very special. He rated him as a leading figure of world importance and closely followed his activities on behalf of human rights. Jimi himself stood up for the civil rights movement. His father told me about an incident that occurred when Jimi was still a backing musician. He and the group he played with at that time went into a cinema and sat in seats reserved for whites, to protest for equal rights for black and white. They were all arrested and put in jail until the owner of the club they played at came and bailed them out."

Ron stated, "Well, I used to be his best friend so that's not it."

Jimi offered, "I have a favourite aunt who told me about a thing that happened in Chicago Heights a long time ago. Her name was Martha Brown."

"That's it," Ron exclaimed. "That's what we have in common. Let me tell you the story and you tell me if it's the story you heard." Ron related the story of the 4-yearold child who had been visited by the Holy Spirit, spoke in tongues, began an association with the Pentecostal Church of God and a lifelong friendship with Martha Brown, the aunt of Jimi Hendrix. "I am the child."

Martha Brown played a pivotal role in the lives of both Ron Russell and Jimi Hendrix. It was Martha who explained to Ron the meaning of what happened to him at age 4. Martha had had a similar trip through the Revival Fires, speaking in tongues and the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.

The two musicians felt an immediate and deep bond. Their spirits spoke to each other exchanging a lifetime of experiences and emotions in a minute. The two began talking about music and influences. Jimi described the concept for his new band that would fuse the elements of Jazz, Classical, Gospel, and Rock together.

[3] "Jimi wanted to develop, expand, and move on in many fields. In 1969 he intended to change and develop his music, but unfortunately faced strong opposition from his manager, who tried to make Jimi repeat the style of music which initially had made him famous: for example, "Hey Joe" and "Purple Haze". Mike Jeffery tried to persuade Jimi to stay in line and do what he was told to do. Persuasion meant any means necessary, including strong threats."

Ron described his early history, from the time he had first seen Gene Krupa and knew that he wanted to be a drummer, through the years of jazz lessons and countless hours of practice, to the jam he was playing that day.

Jimi invited Ron to join him in the limousine where they could continue their talk in private. Once in the limousine, Jimi pulled out his "works" (drug world slang for equipment used with heroin.) Ron looked on in horror as he watched his new friend "shoot up" to ease his tension.

"Man, that stuff is no good, Jimi," Ron advised. "Where'd you get that?"

"I got it from that skinny guy out there," Jimi pointed out Albert Ronald "Ron" Wells standing in the crowd.

Ron Russell quickly exited the limousine and took after Ron Wells. "He was faster than I was then. He's lucky, 'cause I would've done bodily harm to Ron if I'd have caught him," Ron Russell recalls now. Years later, in 1994, Ron Russell met up with Ron Wells. Upon hearing Ron Russell speak of his days with Hendrix, Ron Wells interrupted to say, "Hey, you were the guy who was going to kill me because I gave heroin to Hendrix." It turned out to be the last heroin that Jimi Hendrix ever did.

Hendrix knew well enough what the heroin was doing to him. The previous evening, Jimi had left the stage at Curtis Hixon Hall after playing only three songs. He was strung out. He needed his heroin fix. He couldn't play without it.

Ron Russell returned to the limousine and coaxed Jimi to the stage for a jam with Raindriver. The music that resulted was incredible. The hippies received a preview of the future of Hendrix' music. As Ron remembers the moment, "It was of God. It was incredible." The feeling transcended the local scene propelling all who attended to a new plane where music combined with spirituality.

Hendrix felt it too. Memories of the previous evenings debacle disappeared as Jimi began playing with a greater joy and purpose than he had in his recent memory. The dream that he had of combining Jazz, Classical, and Gospel together was flowing from his guitar and was complimented perfectly by the musicians on the stage.

It was clear that they were destined to play together. Jimi invited Ron to join his new group, which would be called The Jimi Hendrix Fusion Band. Naturally, Ron accepted.

[4] "... Jimi was looking for new musicians to work and play with. His dream was to find good players who would also be his friends, which was the reason he chose Billy Cox as a new bass player when Noel Redding left the band."

After the jam session, Ron spoke to Jimi in earnest about the heroin. "Man," Ron spoke, "if we're going to be together I want it to really fly. Man, we've got to get you off the stuff."

Hendrix listened to this new friend intently. Though they had just met they felt as if they had known each other forever. Jimi knew inherently that he could trust Ron, unlike the plethora of parasites that sought him out for his fame and fortune. Ron invited Jimi to stay with him at his humble abode in Tampa while Hendrix kicked the ugly habit that was ruining his life and his talent.

Jimi moved in with Ron. The first days were the worst. Jimi was wracked by tremors as the physically addicting drug grudgingly loosed its hold on him. Ron recalls cradling a shuddering Jimi in his arms on the floor.

Ron soon learned that Jimi's problem was due as much to exhaustion as to heroin addiction. Jimi described how his manager, Mike Jeffery, continually pressured him to produce more, tour more, record more... Everything was more, more, more.

As Monika recalled,  [5] "He also told me about the stress and exhaustion he felt after two and a half years of constant touring all over Europe and America, plus recording on top of this. He said that he needed a holiday for a long time, but that his manager, Mike Jeffery, kept on booking new tours, often without first informing him."

Jimi and Ron talked at length about life, death, spirituality, and, particularly, music. They jammed together for hours on end. They also wrote several gospel songs together.

"You see, Jimi was a funny guy. When he was alone he didn't listen to rock and roll. He'd listen to Classical, Jazz, and Gospel. He really loved Gospel music," Ron recalls. "When Hendrix wrote music he'd hear the whole thing. He couldn't read a lick of music, but he'd play each instrument in the orchestra's part. He'd play something and say, 'I want the violins to play this,' and so on. He was really remarkable in that way."

Jimi described his love for Monika Dannemann who he called his soul mate. He confided to Ron that he worried about his love for Monika being discovered and exploited by his manager, Mike Jeffery.

[6] "Jimi didn't feel safe anymore, and he also felt unable to protect me from anything that might happen. He told me to wait for him, and that he would come as soon as he had sorted out everything with his manager. He wanted to break free from his management first and then join me in England," wrote Monika Dannemann.

Monika Dannemann further described Jimi's paranoia, "In the last eighteen months of his life, several threatening events made Jimi cautious. In May 1969 he was arrested at Toronto Airport for carrying drugs, which he believed Jeffery had got someone else to plant on him. Death threats and other attempts to intimidate Jimi followed. He was even kidnapped by people who told him they were Mafiosi, then miraculously 'rescued' on Jeffery's orders. These events made Jimi ask me not to join him in New York after his tour, as he feared that Jeffery might try to use me as a way of blackmailing Jimi. When I protested, saying that I could look after myself and that I wanted to help him, Jimi told me about a dream he had had some months before. He had made this into a song called 'Look Over Yonder'. In this dream he saw an evil force taking his love away after discovering her.

Jimi believed the dream to be a premonition – a warning about what could happen if his love was discovered – and he wanted to be able to protect me from its becoming reality."

It was clear to Ron that Jimi desperately wanted to change his management situation. But his manager had neatly tied up Jimi in legal entanglements.

Monika echoed Ron's thoughts, " [7] Jimi told me that he was thinking of leaving his manager for good. He felt it was high time to take control over his music and his life, especially as he wanted to change his image and his music drastically, to convey more spiritual messages with solutions for the people and the problems in life. However, he feared that Jeffery would do everything in his power to prevent this."

Jimi listened intently as Ron Russell told of his friendship with Dr. Martin Luther King from their first meeting in Melbourne, Florida in 1962 until Dr. King's murder in 1968. Ron confided to Jimi the incredible sense of loss that he felt following Martin's assassination.

Jimi confided to Ron that some "heavy shit" had been happening around him; that he feared for his own safety. A sentiment that Monika reflected,  [8] "Jimi felt more and more unsafe in New York, the city where he used to feel so much at home. It had begun to seem like a prison to him, and a place where he had to watch his back all the time."

Hendrix told Ron that Mike Jeffery was constantly making deals behind his back attempting to control the superstar's every movement.

Monika relates the circumstances of the previous tour,  [9] "When Jimi arrived in New York his manager told him that Mitch and Noel were on their way to join him. He had booked studio time for the group to do some recording before starting their US tour. Jimi was very upset, as he had planned to fly back to Europe to meet my family, and he had a row with Jeffrey. He also found out that his manager had added new dates to the tour, which would now last until the end of June. As had happened many times before, Mike Jeffrey had ruined Jimi's plans for a badly needed holiday, to which we had both been looking forward.

When Jimi asked Jeffery to shorten the tour, he was told that the money was needed and also that if he broke the tour contract Jeffery had signed in his name, it would cost Jimi dearly. Once again, his manager had arranged things over Jimi's head, only informing him when it was too late to change the arrangements."

Jimi knew that Jeffery was exerting every effort to maintain control of him. As Monika observed, "I know from Jimi himself that there were people around him, including his manager, who were vitally interested in keeping him supplied with drugs and who offered them to him all the time. They obviously believed that it would make it easier to handle and control him this way, especially if they could get him addicted (a common method of dealing with rock musicians.)"

Jimi related an incident that occurred at Woodstock intended to show him who was in control,  [10] "While Jimi was in a house near Woodstock, practicing for the Festival, Jeffery and some Italian Mafia types dropped by and told him that he had to play at the opening night of the Salvation, a New York club with strong Mafia connections. Jimi had refused before, but while Jeffery went into the house to persuade Jimi, the other men stayed outside and started some target practice with a gun. Jimi understood the message and did the gig."

Jeffery went so far as to orchestrate a kidnapping of Hendrix to strengthen his control,  [11] "There were several more incidents intended to intimidate Jimi, and his band were also threatened that they should play certain clubs – or else.
However, the most menacing incident took place in the autumn of 1969, when Jimi was visited by two men. They said they had been sent by Jeffery to pick up Jimi, and he believed them. The next thing Jimi knew, he had been kidnapped, and the men told him they belonged to the Mafia.
Jimi was hidden in a warehouse somewhere in New York. At first Jimi believed that they would kill him, but as time passed and nothing happened he realized something else was going on. While he was a prisoner they threatened him, but did not hurt him, so Jimi could not figure out what they wanted. The next day he was told to call Jeffery and let him know that Jimi was dead unless the manager handed over the contract he had with Jimi. Then, all of a sudden, and seemingly out of nowhere, Jeffery's people turned up and rescued Jimi."

The light in Jimi's brain finally illuminated as to the lengths that his manager would go to maintain his income,  [12] "When he had recovered from the shock, Jimi came to the conclusion that Jeffery, unbeknownst to the people who rescued him, had been behind the kidnapping from the start, and that the whole thing had been staged to bring Jimi into line and make him realize just how much he was in Jeffery's power. The simple message seemed to be that if Jeffery wanted, he could do anything to Jimi."

But Jimi was defiant, determined to free himself of what amounted to modern day slavery,  [13] "But this didn't stop Jimi trying even harder to get out of his contract with Jeffery. The biggest problem was that if Jimi just walked out of the contract, Jeffery would still keep the rights to a considerable amount of unpublished material. Jimi feared that if he lost control of this Jeffery would be able to manipulate the tapes according to his own commercial taste, by having the music and message changed, rearranged and effectively destroyed."

Jimi Hendrix found himself in a position familiar to musicians like "Little Richard", Chuck Berry, Billie Holiday and a host of other talented folks who had a genius for music, but were ignorant of business machinations. The underhanded tactics of managers like Mike Jeffery were beyond the imagination of creators like Hendrix. Until, it was too late,  [14] "business deal and financial power-play gave Jeffery a legal stranglehold on Jimi as well. The Jimi Hendrix Experience was Jeffery's main source of income and he was determined to squeeze as much as he could out of this successful formula. In 1970 problems and pressures on Jimi accumulated, as several lawsuits were tying up his money and he was in debt as a result of the building of a recording studio in New York."

Greed, one of the oldest motivators in history, possessed Mike Jeffery. He would literally stop at nothing to protect his prize revenue machine. For that is how he perceived Jimi, not as a human, a creator, a sensitive being, but as a piece of meat with value in the marketplace. Mike Jeffery considered Jimi Hendrix as his property not unlike the slave owners of the Antebellum South.

Jeffery wanted Jimi to crank out more hits like an assembly line drone committed to a quota of toaster production.

[15] "In the meantime Jeffery tried to push Jimi into reforming the Experience, but with no success. Through the last months of 1969 and the beginning of 1970, Jimi tried to bring out some new material, but was stopped by his management, who thought the songs to be too spiritual and not commercial enough. In between, he kept trying to find the missing money and a way out of his management contract. As Jeffery would tell me later, at a meeting after Jimi's death, Jimi had made seven attempts in all to free himself."

During Jimi's re-acquaintance with sobriety he asked Ron whom they should use as their bass player. Jimi loved Billy Cox, but knew that the pace and pressure that had severely weathered Jimi would surely crush Billy. That prophecy came true during the European Tour. "You see, the bass and drums have to be together," Ron explains, "They are the foundation." Ron thought immediately of his friend Wally Dance. Wally was a premiere bass player, a natural musician.

Jimi had been trying to recruit a keyboard player that he had met in his early days of club gigs in London. Keith Emerson was the enigmatic keyboard player for the band Nice. Emerson was fascinated with Jimi's concept of fusing disparate musical elements together. However, Jimi was unable to extricate himself in time and Keith joined forces with former King Crimson bassist and lead singer, Greg Lake, and the drummer from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, Carl Palmer, to form the infamous classical rock group Emerson, Lake & Palmer.

The players for the Jimi Hendrix Fusion band were set: Jimi Hendrix on guitar and lead vocals, jazz legend Bobby Lyle on keyboards, multitalented bass player Wally Dance on bass, and Ron Russell on drums.

At the end of his stay, Jimi Hendrix was clean. He had wrestled the monkey from his back. He hadn't felt that good since his days as guitar man with the Isley Brothers. He looked forward to a future that would see him moving in new musical directions.

But first, he had to make some money. Electric Lady Studios was an enormous drain on his cash resources. Jimi agreed to play a short tour of Europe to raise the much-needed cash.

Jimi invited Ron to drum for him on the tour. Unfortunately, Ron didn't have a passport and there wasn't sufficient time for him to secure one before the tour began. Ron had to pass on the offer, a fact that haunts him to this day. Had he accompanied Jimi on tour perhaps Jimi would not have died.

Jimi was left with but one alternative: to do the tour with his old drummer Mitch Mitchell. Mitchell was limited in his abilities as a drummer and was also a highly excitable individual, prone to violent outbursts if crossed. Ron Russell had several confrontations with Mitch and, "they weren't pretty," Ron reports.

Mike Jeffery feared people like Ron Russell because they threatened his hold on Jimi,  [16] "Jeffery did not like Jimi to have friends who would put ideas in his head and give him strength. He preferred Jimi to be more isolated, or to mix with certain people whom Jeffery could use to influence and try to manipulate him." It was Jeffery's intent to keep Jimi isolated. Perhaps it was he who promoted the conflicts between Mitch Mitchell and Ron Russell.

Jimi Hendrix left for the European tour. He called frequently to talk to Ron Russell about song ideas for the album that they would record when he returned to the States. Jimi sounded very happy. Ron's heart could feel the change that had come over his friend. Jimi wrote a dozen or more new tunes during the tour. His playing took on a new purpose as well. As if he was already playing with the new band.

On September 18th, 1970, Ron was teaching a Head Start class at Manhattan Middle School in Tampa. Ron's best friend, Martin Luther King, had started the Head Start program and Ron felt compelled to help forward his friends vision. "I had thirty little black kids there and they were all precious," Ron recalls.

Early that morning, the principle of the school came down to get Ron. "Jimi Hendrix is on the phone for you," the principle said. His voice belied his initial disbelief that the real Jimi Hendrix was actually calling the school. Ron smiled and said, "Cool. It's ok, he's a friend of mine."

Jimi sounded very good to Ron's ears. Hendrix was in London at the flat of his girlfriend and soul mate, Monika Dannemann. Jimi was in good health and spirits. Jimi and Ron talked for a few moments about the upcoming sessions at Electric Lady in New York. Jimi would be returning to New York in a few days and was eager to get his new band into the studio.

Then, Ron heard a familiar voice enter the London flat.

The mood quickly turned ugly. "Is that that fucking drummer from Tampa," Ron recognized the voice. "You tell him that he's never gonna record with you. He's never gonna play with you. He's never gonna get any money out of you."

All of the hair on Ron's body stood on end in alarm. Ron felt a terrible wave of dread wash over him.

"Jimi, get out of there, man. I'm getting' a bad feeling about this."

Hendrix laughed off Ron's warning, "Ah, don't worry about him, he's just crazy. I've handled him before."

Before Ron could respond he heard Jimi cry out, "Ouch. Man, he just jammed me in the temple with a needle."

Ron cried out, "Jimi?"

Ron heard the telephone receiver fall to the floor and his friend with it. He could hear Jimi Hendrix choking and vomiting. Ron was horrified. He was helpless. He was an ocean away and couldn't help his friend with whatever was happening to him. Ron came to the sickening realization: he was listening to his friend die a horrible, agonizing death.

Then, Ron heard the voice that he had immediately recognized moments before. It was the voice of former Hendrix Experience drummer Mitch Mitchell. The voice said to an accomplice, "Get those pills and jam 'em down his throat." As a person regurgitates they naturally inhale and influx anything in their throat. Mitchell was setting up the cover story: Rock Star Dies Of Overdose.

And then, silence.

There was no longer any sound from Jimi Hendrix. For a time there was no sound form the London flat save for some shuffling and dragging sounds.

At the other end of the wire Ron was pleading, "What is going on? Jimi? Jimi? Are you there?"

Jimi didn't reply.

Eventually, the receiver was picked up. Ron recognized the voice of Mitch Mitchell who coldly, flatly stated, "The nigger is dead! And I'm coming for you next."

In shock, Ron responded, "Come on. I live in Tampa, Florida. I'm waiting for you." Then, the line went dead.

Ron was confused, dazed, shocked. What had just happened? Could it be true? Did he just hear his good friends' murder? What should he do? What could he do?

Ron called Martha Brown, Jimi's aunt. He described to her what happened. Martha was shocked by the news. She excused herself to call Jimi's father, Al Hendrix, with the tragic news. Ron expected that authorities would contact him for his statement about the murder. He was never contacted.

"I can't say for sure who the other person in the room was, but I strongly suspect that it was Michael Jeffery," Ron states. "I can't prove that Jeffery was there," Ron pauses, "But I can prove that Mitch Mitchell murdered Jimi Hendrix!"

If Mike Jeffery could exert the kind of control that Monika and others have described over a mega-star like Jimi Hendrix how could a semi-talented drummer like Mitch Mitchell refuse to do his bidding? Mitchell's income source would dry up as well if Jimi made the change in musical direction that he intended. Even with Jimi dead they had enough material recorded to release Hendrix albums for decades.

That is in fact what happened. Jimi Hendrix holds the dubious distinction of having released the most posthumous albums of any artist ever.

To normal folks this would seem a shortsighted approach at best. To literally kill the goose that was laying the golden eggs. Jimi Hendrix had already revolutionized the world of rock and roll as well as the art of guitar playing. Had he just been allowed to follow his own inspired course he surely would have continued to lead rock in new directions. After all, isn't that what really made him the star that he was?

But, Mike Jeffery was far from typical. He bragged that he had served in the British Secret Service. He fancied himself as a James Bond and frequently promoted stories that supported that persona. Jeffrey told all who would listen that he was,  [17] "A specialist in all sorts of things, he knew all the tricks of the trade and early on in his career had had connections with the Newcastle crime scene. Now he had got involved with the New York Mafia, and was also into the occult. He developed close links with one person in particular who had connections with a brutal dictatorship, mercenaries and the Mafia"

The picture painted by all who knew Mike Jeffery is not flattering.  [18] "Jeffrey was not a guy to mess around with. He said that he had been a British secret agent in M126 and kept circulating stories of having done undercover work, including killing people."

Jeffery claimed to have killed before. Following Jimi's death the manager commenced with the cover up. "A press conference at which I would explain the true circumstances of Jimi's death was scheduled for the day of the inquest, but cancelled by Jeffery, again, in retrospect, for obvious reasons. He was simply not interested in clearing up the public misconception that Jimi had died of a drug overdose."

Just another rock star that got too high; a black man who sang of voodoo. Jeffery could depend on the fact that officials wouldn't look to closely for foul play in this matter. He didn't underestimate the indifference with which authorities treated Jimi's demise despite the fact that the physical evidence did not support this conclusion.

[19] "Likewise untrue is the allegation that Jimi died of an overdose. When he died in September 1970 he had no drugs in his system apart from some sleeping pills and traces of amphetamine. There was absolutely no trace of hard drugs."

The autopsy reports the discovery of an "unknown substance" in Jimi's blood. Ron Russell states that, "they injected Jimi in the temple, behind the hairline." A normal autopsy would not have discovered the tiny puncture mark obscured by Jimi's thick hair. "I believe that whatever that unknown substance was that it is what killed him," Ron declares.

Ron Russell fell into a deep funk of nearly overwhelming depression. Another close friend had been murdered. A little over two years before on April 4th, 1968, Ron's best friend, civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King, had been murdered. Ron had been devastated by Dr. King's death. And now, he had lost his dear friend Jimi Hendrix.

Ron drew within himself fearing to get close to anyone lest they be murdered too.

The natural question is: Why didn't Ron speak out about this murder sooner?

The answer is quite simple: The pain of remembering was too great. Ron buried the memories deep within his mind.
Ron suppressed his memories for over 25 years.

Why now?

Why Ron has decided to tell his story after so many years is perhaps the hardest question to answer. Ron has a very successful career going as percussionist for singer Bertie Higgins' Band of Pirates. The band is about to start a lucrative long-term gig at the Paradise Hotel in Las Vegas; a fat payday, living in the lavish lap of luxury – all expenses paid. Going public with his murder allegations leaves Ron with nothing to gain and literally everything to lose. Perhaps, even his life.

I first published an article on this story in December of 2001 after about two years of interviews and research. Researching this story is extremely difficult.
Some of the complications are:

It has been 30 years since Jimi Hendrix died. The Hendrix family didn't respond to my queries. It seems that they don't want to disturb Jimi's memory. Eric Burden refused to meet with me for a private viewing of our interview with Ron Russell – even though Mr. Burden was playing a gig a mere 30 miles away from me. Michael Jeffries died mysteriously in a plane crash a few years after Jimi and is thus unavailable for comment. Monika Dannemann died mysteriously of monoxide poisoning in her garage shortly after publishing her book of paintings and remembrances of her life with Jimi. The London Police have been totally uncooperative. The attitude I get from them is that they barely have time to investigate recent murders. Mitch Mitchell hasn't responded to my queries. While I don't expect a confession, I do expect a denial. A quick explanation of alibi. But all I've gotten is silence. Many of the contacts that I interviewed were cooperative at first but then mysteriously stopped responding to me. Did someone get to them? Several of my interviewees expressed concern about their own safety and would only speak anonymously. One informant from The Hendrix Experience days stated directly, "He has killed before. He wouldn't think twice about dropping me." A research trip to Seattle proved fruitless. The Seattle Times refused to talk with me. As did everyone else that I attempted to contact.

I decided to publish the story in order to garner a response and hopefully flush out folks with information that would either confirm or contradict Ron Russell's allegations.

The Caf? Be At received many responses most of which condemned us for publishing the story. However, none of the messages contained any information that contradicted Ron Russell's account. Rather than offer intellectual arguments against our story, the writers attempted to shout us down.

"Y_O_U A_R_E N_U_T_S," wrote Marco Granetto, an avid Hendrix fan.

In an exclusive interview with Wanda Boudreaux, Marco failed to produce any relevant evidence, just more intimations of our collective insanity.

Wanda reports that, "Marco is really a sweet guy. He's a very passionate Hendrix fan who has read books and listened to hours of interviews of Jimi. That is the basis of his objections."

The Cafe' Be At wholeheartedly stands by Ron Russell and his account of the heinous and, as yet, un-prosecuted murder of the greatest guitar player of all time, James Marshall Hendrix.


This article is a faithful report of the remembrances of Ron Russell. Every person that we have talked to who knows Ron responds similarly: "If it were anyone other than Ron telling this story I wouldn't believe it."

Responses from those who do not know Ron Russell personally are generally poorly worded attacks that tell us that the story is large steaming pile of crap. (If only they were that eloquent.) However, to this day we have not received one shred of credible evidence that refutes this story.

[/noae]

[Boris Bernshteyn]

Уже спасибо!