Author shines light on Jimi Hendrix biography

Charles R. Cross, who wrote the acclaimed "Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain," spent the past four years researching the life of the biggest rock star ever to come out of the Northwest. The result, "Room Full of Mirrors: A Biography of Jimi Hendrix" (Hyperion, 400 pp., $24.95), is published Wednesday.

Cross conducted more than 300 interviews, including many with people who had never told their stories to other biographers. He traveled around the country and the world and uncovered much new information. He also found letters and photos never before published. Cross talks about the experience in this exclusive interview.

Q: You say in the preface that, as a writer who specializes in Northwest music, you sensed Hendrix looming as a subject for a long time. Do you feel a weight lifted?

A: Somewhat, yeah. I did feel it as an obligation. Jimi is absolutely the greatest artist in any genre, in my opinion, that ever was born in Seattle. His memory just never sat well with me. It was a very troubled relationship he had with Seattle, but Seattle has a very troubled relationship with him in terms of how he's been honored since his death.

My attempt as a biographer is at least to set his story straight. It had been left in disarray by the variety of books that had been written quickly after his death, the variety of things that have been written by people with an agenda. If I have an agenda, and I guess every writer has to admit that they do, my agenda was to see his relationship with Seattle correctly told, the story of his life here told. I wanted that part of the story, more than any other, to finally get fixed, and I hope I did that.

Q: It's a sadder story than we've heard before. His growing up here was horrific, wasn't it?

A: It was. It was a sadder story and a more horrific story than I was prepared for. Emotionally, it was a very hard book to write. I grew up in very humble origins, so writing the story of a kid growing up in poverty is something I can imagine in my own mind. Yet the poverty that Jimi went through was difficult for me to stomach at times and hard for me as a writer to tell. I didn't want to put judgment on it, I wanted to capture the tale. There are also moments of great levity, great humor. What these kids could play with or find fun and joy in, that's also increased. Despite the horrific upbringing, Jimi was somebody with a huge heart. Looking at his childhood, his artistry is even more remarkable to me, because most people who have suffered that level of neglect and poverty would go off and be bitter and would be angry to a degree that they couldn't relate to society. Everyone that I know that ever encountered him in person, including yourself, talks of him as being a warm and open person. It makes his character development even more surprising to me and makes the work he created even more poignant.

Q: From my brief appearances in the book, I learned that memory plays tricks on you. My recollections, 35 years on, were not the same as others. How did you reconcile that?

A: You weigh it all. And it's a complicated thing. But you kind of look at what's repeated by different people and you find a pattern. Your memories of Jimi at Garfield were weighed with others who were there, and from that it became clearer what happened. Some of the interviews I did I threw out completely because there was no way to verify them, there was no pattern.

Q: The warm, creative, spiritual Hendrix is contrasted by the violent, drunken, promiscuous one. How could this be the same man?

A: There is a complexity in all of us that is somewhat unreconcilable in biography. We think of the spiritual quest as something that only people that are perfectly serene seek, when I don't think that's the truth. Part of that spiritual quest sometimes comes out of neglect, abuse and struggle. In some ways I can reconcile that. There are parts of Jimi's character that are very complicated. There were points when it was hard to like him, certainly with some of those violent issues. These were mostly fueled by alcohol.

That was one of the things that was most interesting to me. People want to identify '60s drugs — acid, pot, even heroin — as drugs that caused violence. And the truth with Jimi Hendrix, and sadly the truth with many people of that era, is that alcohol was by far the most damaging drug. The most socially acceptable and legal drug was the one that caused the most danger. And that's not really a surprise if you look at his family and see the history of alcoholism on both sides.

Q: The book begins and ends at Greenwood Cemetery in Renton, not so much because Jimi is there but because his mother is there, in a pauper's grave — which you discovered. That is the most powerful thing in the book.

A: No one even knew where his mother was buried. I didn't know I was going to find her grave. I can't believe that to this day there is all this debate about saving the Hendrix house, and people fighting over Jimi's estate, and morally no one has stepped forward to take care of what I see as almost a sin against God. It does show you that money has been a driving factor with many of these people. When that issue was brought up with Experience Hendrix, which controls his estate, they claimed that Al (Hendrix, Jimi's father) made no provision for that (in his will). That they could morally argue that point is unbelievable. That they think that Jimi should be in a grave with his stepmother and his father and all of them (Hendrix family members) when they die, at a cost of several million dollars, that his mother should be in a pauper's grave? And morally argue that? I can't believe it. But, again, my job as a biographer for the most part is not to judge, it's just simply to tell the story. And the story is amazing.

Q: You also discovered the real way Jimi got out of the Army, which was comical. He got away with that "injured foot" story for a long time.

A: It's such a classic example of the public Jimi Hendrix — the big superstud who bedded millions of girls and was never afraid and was a tough guy — and the true Jimi Hendrix who was, at least at that point in his life, a virgin who was desperate to get out of the Army, and pretended to be gay. I was able to get those documents. It was quite a coup. Nobody could speak to it because Jimi never told a soul. To have the actual psychiatrist's name and quote from some of the things Jimi told him — that he was in love with his bunkmate, and all this other stuff — practically made him the Cpl. Klinger of 101st Airborne.

Q: You also uncovered some never-before-seen pictures and letters. Where did you find them?

A: Those pictures are some of the most remarkable things I came up with. My jaw dropped when I found those. I collect stuff, and I traded some stuff I had for access to some of those things. It cost me dearly. But it was worth it.

Q: Previous biographies made a point of saying Jimi hated Seattle. But you tell a different story.

A: Seattle is where his parents divorced, where his mother died, where he suffered significant neglect. It was also where he lived two-thirds of his life, had some of his greatest joys, discovered the electric guitar, fell in love, kissed a girl — these are things that still had wonderful memories for him. Jimi had a very complicated relationship with Seattle. But he loved many people here, and there was much about this city that he loved.

In his hometown, there should be something more to honor him than a heated rock in Woodland Park Zoo. Maybe Garfield should be renamed. I say this with a smile on my face, the idea of a T-shirt that says, "Jimi Hendrix High." People are gonna want that.

Patrick MacDonald: 206-464-2312 or pmacdonald@seattletimes.com