My Life: Jerry Lee Lewis borrowed cash from me. I never got my fiver back

Irish Examiner

12-07-2025

THEY say you should never meet your heroes. I never imagined that mine would relieve me of a fiver.
Jerry Lee Lewis was, after all, a pioneer of rockabilly music — and probably not short of a few bob.
Rewind almost 30 years when I was a teenager in the 1950s. The musical landscape was barren for kids my age.
Our Spotify was a wireless with a choice between opera or crooners like Bing Crosby.
Rock n roll pianist Jerry Lee Lewis was the saviour young music fans had been waiting for. As the years went on his fame hit the stratosphere.
Signature tunes like Whole Lotta Shakin Goin On became mere background noise in the bedroom of almost every Irish teenager. I was no exception.
Nearly three decades later, I came face to face with rock n' roll's first great wild man .
It was 1983 and his career had taken something of a battering. A litany of scandals including a wedding to his considerably younger second cousin and a visit to Elvis Presley's home with a shotgun, had all but eroded the 'killer's' appeal.
A celebrity in this day and age would sink without a trace, but he somehow managed to stay afloat. News of his arrival to the real capital sent rock n' roll fans into a frenzy.
Meanwhile, I had received an invitation from Beamish and Crawford to assist with The Carling Country Music festival.
The event was a notable one in Cork that attracted world renowned performers.
To my delight, Jerry Lee Lewis was the headline act that year and my role was to liaise between the tour managers and sponsors.
I'll never forget the first time I met Jerry Lee Lewis. He shied away from fans for the most part but I did become great friends with his tour manager JW Whitton.
We didn't see much of Jerry. A lot of his time was spent in his room with his secretary. I think he tired of the tedious and perfunctory exchanges.
'I'm your biggest fan. Your records are the greatest.' It was the same conversation on loop every day.
Through an outsider's lens, this didn't seem like much of a life at all. I'm not sure Jerry even realised which city he was in.
Moreover, he was a man, who was very detached from the real world. This was evident from his rider which demanded that a chef be on call for him 24 hours a day.
If he woke up at 3am and decided he wanted a roast dinner with all the trimmings his request would need to be honoured.
When he wasn't playing concerts Jerry was unapologetically reclusive. He outright refused to meet with fans and sought refuge in his dressing room. There was just one man he made an exception for.
To this day I wish I'd brought a camera with me.
There were chaotic scenes outside Cork Opera House that night. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the star after his concert. Among the crowd was Hugh Coveney who was Lord Mayor at the time.
It just so happened that he was also a diehard rock n roll fan. However, even his request to meet Jerry Lee Lewis was met with disinterest.
JW was steadfast in his disapproval repeatedly stating: 'Jerry Lee Lewis doesn't meet with fans.' Suddenly an idea struck me.
Hugh had brought along the trademark chain which was sitting in a wooden box for safekeeping. I removed the piece from its container and placed it around JW's neck.
'You're wearing the Lord Mayor's chain now,' I informed him with authority, 'and as the Lord Mayor of Cork you get to make the decisions.'
His expression immediately softened and he let out a hearty laugh. Next thing we knew Hugh Coveney and I were being bundled into Jerry's dressing room where the star was nursing a glass of scotch.
It appeared that the tides had turned and now Jerry was the one who was starstruck.
'Wow!' the star exclaimed. 'You are the best looking mayor I have ever seen.'
We all basked in his admiration for Cork's first citizen. It was a proud moment.
Of all the Lord Mayors Jerry Lee Lewis had ever met, he thought ours was the most handsome. This was high praise indeed, given all the countries he had performed in.
Two days later I had the enviable task of accompanying Jerry and JW to the airport.
It was no easy feat and at one point I found myself hauling out a superfan who had snuck into the back of their limousine.
That was at 7am and we were attempting to leave the Metropole Hotel. Luckily, we made it to the airport without incident.
JW wandered off at one stage, leaving me standing outside the airport shop with Jerry Lee Lewis.
I tried my best to make conversation.
'That was a great concert,' I opined. 'I really enjoyed it.'
'Gee thanks,' Jerry replied, finally showing some semblance of enthusiasm.
What happened next was the most baffling encounter of my life.
'Old Jerry Lee doesn't carry money,' he told me.
JW takes care of these things. I need some money for pipe tobacco.
His helpless expression was lamentable. Here was this big star, who had little idea how to do anything for himself and didn't even carry around his own money.
I didn't waste any time and immediately produced a fiver from my pocket.
'You tell JW you gave old Jerry Lee tobacco money and he'll take care of it,' he reassured me.
It was just before they boarded the plane that I uttered those pitiful words.
'Jerry said to tell you that I gave him £5 for tobacco.'
Sadly, JW didn't take the hint.
'Another generous gesture, thank you so much Patrick. You Irish are terrific.'
With that, they were gone. I might never have got my fiver back, had it not been for the legendary Johnny Cash, who was headlining the festival two years later.
His tour manager was a different animal to JW and was very urbane. Cash had 12 stage suits which needed to be dry cleaned. It was Easter so everywhere was closed but I knew a friend with a dry cleaners who opened up especially.
The fee was £120 but they gave me an extra £30 for my troubles.
My faith in human nature had been restored. It's true what they say about meeting your heroes. Most of them inhabit a completely different world so they will never quite live up to your expectations but that's just my two cents-or rather five pounds-worth.