Jerry Lee Lewis was not a nice man

In death, as in his tumultuous life, Jerry Lee Lewis remains a controversial figure.

Many people, disgusted by his antics — such as marrying his 13-year-old cousin — turned their backs on him. Others forgave him for his sins.

I was never a fan of the man. Many years ago I gave away or sold my lone Jerry Lee album; I’ve got “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” and “Great Balls of Fire” on a compilation CD of Sun Studio hits. I will put it on only when my wife is out of the house. Why? She detests Jerry Lee Lewis.

Ah, but I witnessed the devotion of his followers, and saw “the Killer” perform, on a hot night in July 1983 at the Oakdale Theater in Wallingford. I was there on assignment for the New Haven Register.

Sometimes when big-name performers came to the Oakdale, they would grant my request for an interview. Johnny Cash, for instance — he graciously invited me backstage and was genial, a sweetheart.

But not Jerry Lee. As I noted in my review of that event, “He was reclusive offstage, refusing to give interviews or even to sign autographs for the fans who waited by the backstage gate long after the show.”

He didn’t owe me a second of his time, nor did I expect it. But why couldn’t he have taken a couple of minutes out of his crazy life to sign a few scraps of paper for his devotees who had waited so long?

I hung out for a while with those poor folks as they waited in vain for their hero. They were happy to talk about their affection for him. Leslie Wray Sorenson of New Haven, who had seen Lewis perform six times in various states, clearly had long ago forgiven him for the revelation in 1958 that he had married his kissin’ cousin Myra Gale Brown (while he was still married to his second wife).

“In those days, let’s face it, that was a no-no,” Sorenson told me. “It’s a shame people took it the wrong way. As long as he was happy — he wasn’t hurtin’ nobody.”

I didn’t bother pointing out to Sorenson that even in 1983, marrying your 13-year-old cousin was a “no-no.”

“Did you know he just got married again, for the fifth time?” Sorenson asked me. “To his 25-year-old secretary? I’m shocked, but hey — I’m happy for the guy as long as he’s happy. You gotta give the guy credit, with all the ups and downs he’s come through. I can relate to his life. We all go through these rough times.”

Lewis probably had some responsibility for those “rough times,” although he was never charged in a court of law. His fourth wife, Jaren Pate, drowned in a friend’s swimming pool in 1982. That fifth wife, the secretary Shawn Michelle Stephens, died after taking an overdose of methadone in 1983; she had been married to “the Killer” for just 77 days. USA Today noted: “Officials listed a drug overdose as her cause of death, though speculation swirled of something more sinister.”

Lewis was 47 when he played the Oakdale. Although his cult of loyal fans were ready to cut loose, I reported: “He did more country crooning than rock ‘n’ rolling. Nobody danced or fought anywhere.” At least not until the end of his show, when he performed “Great Balls of Fire” and “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On.” However, I noted he did an abbreviated version of “Shakin.’” Again, he showed contempt for his audience.

Maybe he was pissed because earlier, when he sang “Over the Rainbow” (he actually recorded it as a country waltz in 1980), the crowd got restless. A few people shouted: “Rock ‘n’ roll!”

Eventually Lewis got around to singing a cover version of the Big Bopper’s “Chantilly Lace” and an attempted medley of Little Richard songs. But after a few bars of the latter, he abruptly stopped, saying: “The hell with that!”

Nice guy, huh?

“He seemed to be making it up as he went along,” I wrote, “and the capable back-up band was kept guessing, wondering what song he would break into next.”

You can go to youtube and hear him sing “Over the Rainbow,” as I did this week. What can I say, he’s no Judy Garland. He ad-libbed: “There’s a land ol’ Jerry dreams of.” He sang: “Way above the chimney tops, that’s where you’ll find me.” (I doubt it).

Lewis, whose cousin was the celebrity evangelist Jimmy Swaggart, clearly believed in holy redemption. He told USA Today: “I’m a religious man. I never lost my connection. I just drifted away…But I’m definitely a believer, and I’m looking forward to going to heaven. I certainly hope they need a piano player.”

Yep, Jerry Lee could say the darndest things. Back in 1958, when the scandal broke about his cousin, he said: “I plumb married the girl, didn’t I?”

Here’s another highlight from the Jerry Lee playbook: In September 1976, while watching TV with his bass player Norman Owens, Lewis pulled out a .357 Magnum, announced, “I’m going to shoot that Coca-Cola bottle over there or my name ain’t Jerry Lee Lewis,” and proceeded to shoot Owens in the chest. (He survived, and sued Jerry Lee.)

And yet — there they were, hundreds of them, lined up outside the Hernando Funeral Home in Mississippi this week to pay tribute to their idol. They filed in to view his casket and were greeted by Judith Coghlen Lewis. That’s Lewis’ seventh wife.

“We had a wonderful time,” she said of her time with Jerry Lee.

“This is as big as Elvis dying,” said the clueless Kyler Campbell, 27, of Nesbit, Miss.

The mourners came from as far away as England, Ireland and the Netherlands. According to a report by the Memphis Commercial Appeal, Jud Calkins, 81, drove all the way from St. Louis to pay his respects. “Jerry Lee just captured my imagination.”

Hey, maybe Leslie Wray Sorenson was there.

“The Killer” will be buried Saturday. The main officiant: Cousin Jimmy Swaggart.