Bluesman Willie Green remembered

The loss of a genuine bluesman

In Memoriam: Willie Green, 1935-2021

BY CARLTON REESE | PHOTO BY DAVE SCHLENKER

Willie Green’s story could have been the personified adaptation of a Lynyrd Skynyrd ballad or even a screenplay in waiting for an accompanying blues soundtrack. With his recent passing, a local icon who everyone knew and at the same time nobody knew, took with him one small strand of Ocala’s musical DNA.

Cliches demand that we write of those who have passed as having a “life well lived,” but for Willie Green, this would not suffice, for his was a “life hard lived.” A man of musical talent with very few peers and a potential that remained just that, Willie Green did make his mark on those around him in a way that only a handful of people can – he made them smile, made them tap their toes and shake their hips and shout with joy.

If it was the mid-1990s and you had never witnessed Willie Green take a crowd of revelers and herd them like sheep as he blew his harmonica, it meant you never imbibed at any of the downtown watering holes. It meant that you missed out on a grassroots, inthe-flesh blues experience. It means you have a void that can now never be filled.

In those days, Willie Green was some homeless guy walking into bars and playing his instrument for the dollar bills that people would throw at him. No one, however, failed to take notice of his talent. What a shame that this man who possessed such a gift would also possess demons and addictions to stymie whatever trajectory God had created for him.

When in 2002 Willie Green strutted into O’Malley’s Alley groomed as a porcelain doll and decked out in threads worthy of the House of Windsor, puzzled patrons stared agape at what stood before them. This certainly cannot be the drug-addled bum, that musical jester that plays for our coins, can it?

It most certainly was, and it signaled a turning point of sorts for a man who would finally get his opportunity to entertain from a stage instead of the pits.

Willie Green, born in 1935 to Alabama sharecroppers and having lived a vagabond life up the east coast of the United States, possessed a rare musical talent that only saw glimmers of light when he moved to south Florida in the early 1960s. His blues bands played in juke joints and before migrant camps and fraternity brothers – small-time gigs that belied Willie Green’s genius and fleeced him of his true valuation.

Now in Ocala in the late 1980s, Willie Green would submit to a life of addiction – alcohol and crack cocaine among his vices –

Willie Green attracted the attention of those who would lead him on to bigger stages with bigger acts such as Buddy Guy, Eric Clapton and John Hammond, the latter who nicknamed Willie Green “The Real Deal.”

and he would supplement it with an open palm and the stars as his ceiling. He had become this town’s Otis Campbell or Ned the Wino, part of Ocala’s downtown character and periodic annoyance.

Robert Blauer, owner of The Yearling Restaurant in Cross Creek, knew Willie Green all too well and instead of giving him a few dollars one day, decided to offer him a chance. He bought Willie Green those fine clothes and promised him an audience at his restaurant. Willie Green was no longer the town bum, he was an employed musician and he made the most of it.

Despite his addictions and frequent stays in hospitals, rehabilitation centers and nursing homes, Willie Green stayed punctual and loyal to Blauer and The Yearling, appearing as a regular musician for 18 years and earning enough money through tips to pay his own rent and even buy a car. Finally, Willie Green’s light shined for respected audiences. Like Billy Joel’s “Piano Man,” it was Willie Green they were all coming to see.

At The Yearling, Willie Green attracted the attention of those who would lead him on to bigger stages with bigger acts such as Buddy Guy, Eric Clapton and John Hammond, the latter who nicknamed Willie Green “The Real Deal.” He played to crowds at concerts and festivals, crowds that arrived not knowing Willie Green, but who always left talking of Willie Green.

When the COVID-19 pandemic struck, Willie Green’s light dimmed. Not because of a virus, but of isolation and the denial of his musical passion did he leave us. From February of 2020 up to his death this past June, Willie Green had already become a memory for us as the lords of medicine deemed him “unessential” and wrote his final chapter for him.

The last two years of his life proved to be a final unjust victory for a cruel world. He should have died on stage with harmonica in hand, but alas such a fate rarely accompanies a true bluesman.

In the end, though, Willie Green finally did achieve that measure of adulation and that morsel of fame to which is owed a man of his hardship and talent.

He played the blues and he lived the blues. In the end, Willie Green died the blues.

Like Billy Joel’s “Piano Man,” it was Willie Green they were all coming to see.