If you ambled through the French Quarter in the mid-60’s you might have come upon an engaging longhaired college student from Poplarville, Mississippi with a beat-up guitar, a few chords and an old Ford. If you dropped some coins in his cigar box, you may have helped shape his sound. As Jimmy recalls it:

"On weekends I was out of Poplarville as fast as my Ford Falcon would take me. In those days, folk music was happening in New Orleans… New Orleans competed on the world stage at all levels… The Bayou Room was smack-dab in the heart of the Bourbon Street strip joints… The people who taught me as much about being a performer as anybody performed on that little stage… After the last show at the Bayou Room, I would make my way to Jackson Square with my gig bag and set up shop on the corner of Chartres and Conti. I will never, ever forget the first time someone actually dropped money into my cigar box and told me I was good. I would bang away till the wee hours of the morning, until my cuticles bled or there was no one listening. Then I would count my money, close up shop, and relax at the Morning Call with a cup of café au lait and an order of beignets…” (more)