Legend has it that a few years after the Great War, a Bluesman by the name of Willy made his way up Route 61 to Chicago. Willy was a master of all types of musical instruments, at home on a steel guitar, harmonica, drums, or washboard.
Now, some say that Willy’s journey to the Windy City was to escape the law, while others say he was running from a jealous husband -- for Willy was very fond of fine women and fine whiskey.
Upon arriving in the City of the Broad Shoulders, Willy set about to turn it upside down with his music and charm. However, his penchant for women and whiskey soon got in the way. The night before he was to audition for a brand new record company, he got into a fight on the South Side and killed a man. “Self-defense†was Willy’s claim, but he didn’t stick around to tell the judge.
Willy hotfooted it out of Chicago to the northern country. In Michigan’s Keweenaw Peninsula, he found an old deserted mining shack, where he decided to squat.
Some folks remained in the nearby village of Cliff, although the copper mine had been closed for many years. The villagers welcomed Willy, feeding and friending him. All Willy would tell these folks was that he was from “nowhere“, and “everywhereâ€, and the villagers soon tagged him, “Nomad Willyâ€.
Now, the folks of Cliff noticed that Nomad Willy frequently disappeared for days from the mining shack, but they had learned not to ask too many questions. When Nomad Willy was in residence, he was friendly and eager to entertain them, and that was good enough for them.
One day, a lady in the village, known to be sweet on Nomad Willy, made a call to his cabin. She found him sprawled out, stone cold dead. Now since the folks knew nothing of Nomad Willy, not even his last name, there was no way to contact kin. Nomad Willy was buried in an unmarked grave next to his cabin, and life continued in the tiny village.
Time passed, and another squatter soon inhabited Nomad Willy’s cabin. This new squatter found a packet of papers, hidden under a floorboard. He rifled through them, hoping to find money. Disappointed, (there were only pictures and notes), he took the packet to Nomad Willy’s lady friend, hoping she would give him a free meal for the papers. The lady was happy to oblige, and upon reading the notes, she made some startling discoveries:
When Nomad Willy left the tiny village, he was traveling to big cities all over the Midwest, entertaining folks at fine clubs, and apparently being entertained by some fine women, for at least three different women signed notes “Your loving wifeâ€â€¦
Now, over fifty years later, three Bluesmen emerge from Nomad Willy‘s past, each claiming to be the rightful heir to this legend. Brothers from Another Mother, these three Bluesmen have combined forces to bring you the music and legacy ofNOMAD WILLY
