George Jones and his court-ordered concerts
When one thinks of lawbreakers in country music, one understandably thinks of outlaw country. Merle Haggard’s tales of hard times leading to harder times. Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison singing in a room of hardened criminals like he was one of their own. However, the big house casts a shadow of country music that goes a lot further than just the people you’d expect to find there. Case in point, the strange tale of George Jones and his brushes with the law.
George Jones was the furthest thing you can possibly get from outlaw country. For decades, he was the very vision of mainstream southern music. A Nashville royalty who well and truly earned the nickname ‘The Rolls-Royce of Country Music’ with his unmistakable voice. A thing of such clarity and expressiveness that he could convincingly carry himself not only as the face and voice of the South, but the conscience of it too. The arbiter of what the entire genre stands for.
Behind the scenes, though, the man was battling very real demons. He was a barely functioning alcoholic for most of his time at the top of the industry, and his decline stemmed from that very addiction. In a very Southern fashion, a lot of Jones’ behaviour was swept under the rug due to his position as arguably Nashville’s premier gift to music. True, some of it makes for some of the greatest stories in country music, like the time his wife hid his car keys to prevent him from driving to the liquor store eight miles away. Jones took the lawnmower instead.
The majority of them are just depressing, though. Since Jones was such a beloved figure in country music, he got off very lightly compared to the examples made of some of his peers. The best instance of this came in 1982 when he got caught driving under the influence in a car without a valid license plate, not only by a cop, but by a television cameraman too. After taking a swing at the cameraman, Jones was jailed to await bail.
What was George Jones sentenced to?
While other country stars had seen prison time for much less, Jones was the golden boy and got off lightly. He was sentenced to a few fines and was court-ordered to play a free benefit concert as punishment. Yet, even the legal equivalent of a wagged finger was too much for the out-of-control Jones. The show was scheduled for the following year, one to raise money for a Texas youth support organisation. Jones didn’t show.
Needless to say, the judge was apoplectic. Jones was hauled back in front of him and, rather shockingly, given one more chance. Play a rescheduled benefit concert or go to prison. After three years, an appropriate place and date were found, and Jones deigned to show up for this one. Sort of. He showed up three sheets to the wind, stumbled through half a song and then bailed. Ludicrously, this was enough for the law, which decided that Jones had learned his lesson.
He hadn’t. The man would be at the mercy of his addictions for the next decade and a half, before finally getting sober after a car crash in 1999 saw him brush close enough to death to get him to change his ways. Perhaps that was finally what made him see the sheer number of chances he’d been given across his life.
