Grandma, tell me something 'bout grandpa.
The man whose blood brings color to my skin.
She said child don't you ever tire of askin'?
I'll tell you the story just once again.
They called him Jessie
Jessie for the outlaw
Velvet for the southern drawl
And Byrd for the way he flew away.
He left his people on the reservation
To pick cotton in the hot Arkansas sun.
I was just a silly southern farm girl
Thinking maybe, Jessie was the one.
We lay beneath the stars that summer season
Lost in a sweet lovers fantasy.
I gave everything a girl could give him
And he gave something special to me.
They called him Jessie
Jessie for the outlaw
Velvet for the southern drawl
And Byrd for the way he flew away.
They came for him one night with shotguns loaded.
A bastard child he was forced to claim.
He left me with my heart and pride both broken
I knew my son would never have his name.
They called him Jessie
Jessie for the outlaw
Velvet for his southern drawl
And Byrd for the way he flew away.
The Story behind the song
My grandfather was Jessie Velvet Byrd. We know very little about his heritage other than he was of Native American descent. Nothing romantic; we suspect he was Creole. When Jessie was in his fifties, he got drunk one night with a couple of his buddies and ended up on a rail road track. A freight train plowed into his car killing his friends on impact and leaving him with traumatic brain injuries. One of his many offspring (he had been married four times) came to my Grandmas farm in Arkansas to see if my dad would possibly help in caring for their father. Dad wasn't home, so when the young man approached Grandma, she pulled a gun and ordered him off the property. She never mentioned the incident to my dad. Jessie survived his injuries, dieing at last at the age of seventy four, in a mental institution.
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