01/24/2026
Music transcends us in a way nothing else can. It can calm you down, it can make you cry, it can drive you forward, and it can open your mind. Most people remember their first time hearing a song: where they were, what they were doing, who they were with, and how it made them feel. To a lot, that memory is tied to The Beatles, Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry, etc. To me, that memory is tied to the Man in Black: Johnny Cash.
I was 10 years old, exploring the yard and the surrounding forest at my Dad’s house. It was sweltering summer day, and the lack of clouds encouraged me to gravitate to the shade of the oak tree. I had my pocketknife out, swatting at gnats, and whittling away on a stick, when I heard my Dad call for me from his front porch. Making my way back around the house, I saw him grinning from ear to ear.
“Here boy, listen to this,” he said handing me a pair of headphones.
The thin black wire strung between us and back to a little black box he held in his palm.
“What is it?”
“Put ‘em on your ears.”
Doing as he said, I slid them on as he pressed a button on the box.
“Hello, I’m Johnny Cash,” followed by an explosion of applause and whistles.
As I heard the first notes of the intro, I looked wide eyed at Dad, then came the ‘chugga chugga’ sound from the rhythm. I stood there, sweat running down my brow, listening to the entire song in amazement. I had never heard anything like it. His voice sounded like bottled up thunder, as he sang about shooting a man “just to watch him die;” then, came the twang of the guitar as more hoots and hollers erupted from the audience. By the time the last note was strummed, I stood there stunned.
“You can hang onto this,” he pulled the earphones down and hung them around my neck, showed me what the buttons did on it, and clipped it to my belt. “It’s called a Walkman, and here’s the case for your tape,” he stuck it in my back pocket, then walked back up to the house, wiping his forehead.
I put the headphones back on and slowly made my way back to my spot under the oak while reading the case from my back pocket. ‘Johnny Cash’s 20 All Time Greatest Hits.’ By the time the sun went down that evening, I was well versed with them. From ‘I Walk the Line’ to ‘Ballad of a Teenage Queen,’ I listened to the power and emotion in his voice. I was hooked. I took my Walkman everywhere I went, listening on the bus to and from school, on lunch breaks, and at night before I went to bed. As time passed, Dad gave me more cassettes to listen to, but I found myself always coming back to Cash.
At 14, I started collecting autographs. It began through the mail. I’d write a letter with a self-addressed, stamped envelope, put it in the mailbox and hope for the best. Many of them were never answered, but a lot were. In the first year or so, I heard back from Debbie Reynolds, Robert Duvall, John Travolta, Dustin Hoffman, and Betty White to name a few. As I got older, I attended some ‘meet and greet’ events. Eventually, I discovered eBay. Through the hobby, I’ve befriended some amazing people, but it was my chance exchange with Elaine that really took me back.
Also collecting vintage photographs, I happened upon some Type 1’s (originals) of famous country music stars of the 50s and 60s being sold by an elderly lady on eBay. As I scrolled, I came across one of Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two from 1958. I was immediately transported back to that sweltering summer day when I first heard that baritone voice singing about Folsom Prison. I knew I had to have it. I added it to my cart and soon got a message asking if I was interested in purchasing a Johnny Cash autograph to go with it. I was beside myself with excitement. As we chatted, I discovered that her name was Elaine, and in her youth, she had met Johnny, Marshall, and Luther multiple times early on in their careers and had an autograph from them. We pitched numbers back and forth but quickly settled the deal.
For a week, every time a car passed by my house, I ran to the window in hopes it would be the mail man. It reminded me how I anxiously used to check the mail after I got off the school bus, with fingers crossed for a celebrity response. Finally, it arrived. I sliced the manilla envelope open with my pocketknife, and there it was! Carefully wrapped in tissue paper was my Johnny Cash photo with the autographs. Included, was a note: ‘To Timothy, Thank you for your interest in my early Johnny Cash memorabilia. From Elaine.’
As I held it, I thought about how excited she must’ve been to see Johnny perform, then meet him in person. How she held onto the autograph and photo she took for 68 years. How, by chance, she messaged me and eventually passed them on. How I’ll cherish them just as much, and hopefully as long. I thought about that hot summer day under the oak tree when I heard the voice that moved me, “I’ll try to carry off a little darkness on my back. Til things are brighter, I’m the Man in Black.”
TimBo Cordell
1/24/2026
