Johnny Cash
Album: Personal File - Disc 1 (Legacy Recordings)
Track: Tiger Whitehead
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Tiger Whitehead Lyrics (Johnny Cash, Nat Winston)
Spoken:
The best ideas for song-writing are the true stories that happen to... especially to people. When you get into the human spirit, you'll get some good ideas sometimes.
Recently I played a show up for Jonesboro, Tennessee. They restore in the Old Town of Jonesboro, which is Tennessee's oldest city. And my friend, Dr. Nat Winston, took me up on the mountains, right out of Johnston City, the day of the show. And he showed me the countryside where he grew up. We went up Grandfather Mountain, up to his little old cabin, up there. And as we went through ... Whitehead, he told me the tale of a bear-hunter, named Tiger Whitehead, that used to live in that country. Tiger was born in eighteen-nineteen and died in nineteen-o-five. And on his tombstone... on Tiger Whitehead's tombstone, it says, James T. and that's said, that's for "Tiger" - James T. Whitehead, born: eighteen-nineteen, died: nineteen-o-five, noted bear-hunter.
In his life, he killed ninety-nine bears. We hope, he is at rest. Well, right beside him is a nice white tombstone. That's his wife, buried there: Sally Garland Whitehead. Now Sally lived to be ninety-seven. And it says, Sally Garland Whitehead - not only a mother to human kind, but to animal kind, as well.
For in her life, she nursed two bear-cubs and one farm upon her own breast. We hope, she is now at rest. Ha - ha - ha
So Nat told me the story and showed me the old cemetery where Tiger and Sally are buried and I wrote this song
Sung:
Wild blackberries bloomin' in the thickets on the mountain
Sheep shire and watercress are growin' round the fountain
Where a big black bear is drinkin', lappin' water like a dog
Tiger Whitehead's in the bed, sleepin' like a log
Tomorrow he'll see bear tracks, seven inches wide
And by sundown, he'll be bringin' in the hide
Pretty Sally Garland, comin' down the mountain side
Where Tiger Whitehead's grinding at the mill, at the mill
She sits down on a bearskin and she says, you'll be my man
I'll have me the best bear-hunter in these hills
A wild child was Tiger Whitehead and they say, he killed
Ninety-nine bears before he went to rest, went to rest
Once he left two bear-cubs orphaned, but he brought 'em right on home
And Sally nursed the two bear-cubs upon her breast
Tiger now was eighty-five and he laid upon his bed
And the bears, he killed, now numbered ninety-nine, ninety-nine
Some fellers trapped a bear, but Tiger said, just let him go
If he ain't running wild, he won't be mine
But at night, when the wind howls 'cross the eastern hills of Tennessee
And when the lightnin' flashes, there's a strange thing that people say, they see
An old grey-headed ghost, runnin' through the mountains there
It's Tiger Whitehead after his one hundredth bear
Wild blackberries bloomin' in the thickets on the mountain
Sheep shire and watercress are growin' round the fountain
Where a big black bear is drinkin', lappin' water like a dog
Tiger Whitehead's in the bed, sleepin' like a log
Tomorrow he'll see bear tracks, seven inches wide
And by sundown, he'll be bringin' in the hide
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