Ronnie “the Hawk” Hawkins changed Toronto. He blew his way through town like a bottle of pure thunder was opened up on an unsuspecting city. We still haven’t recovered. And for that, we all owe the Arkansas native our thanks.
When Hawkins steps onto the stage at Massey Hall for an evening of music and memories celebrating his 50+ years in music, on Nov. 21, he’ll hear that thanks — and more — from an adoring crowd that has been touched by the magic of Mr. Dynamo himself.
Where would we be if he hadn’t brought his Southern rockabilly music to town? If he hadn’t taken a chance on a “little roadie” named Robbie Robertson? If he hadn’t waited around for Levon Helm to finish high school before heading up to Canada to perform? Where would we be without his camel walk, the predecessor to Michael Jackson’s moonwalk?
Nowheresville Jack, population zero and dropping fast. Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks came up to Canada via Hamilton and landed with a noisy, rock ’n’ roll thud in the middle of Yonge Street. And it was on this legendary strip that Hawkins held court as the supreme ruler of getting down with your bad self for 14 years.
“Yonge Street is the greatest in the world,” says Hawkins, explaining that, because this was Toronto the Good, it was the only place in town with drinking and entertainment establishments.
“Toronto, Canada, has been unbelievable for us. We hit it in ’58, the same year Tommy Douglas got medicare through, and I said I was living in the Promised Land.… I was lucky enough to be there 14 years… Nobody could do that today because it was there, just the start of rock ’n’ roll in Canada.” One of the finest showmen in rock ’n’ roll, Hawkins also had some incredible players come up through the ranks of the Hawks, including, well, the Band, but also David Clayton Thomas, Beverly D’Angelo and David Foster. The mega-producer Foster, according to Hawkins, was quoted as saying he “learned more in Ronnie Hawkins’ band, before during and after, than he’d ever learned anywhere doing anything else. And it had nothing to do with music.”
A gigantic laugh bursts through the phone.
The Hawk is 80 now. But his memory is still razor sharp. Not surprising, considering he’s also a walking, talking miracle of science after beating pancreatic cancer after his doctor gave him 90 days to live.
When he got the news, he started partying like it was the end of the world and he knew it.
“We did things that would have killed Charles Atlas,” he croons. “Arnold Schwarzenegger could not have lived through what we did. And he’s tough.”
After some intense shenanigans, some healing herbs that Robbie Robertson sent over and contacting a telepathic healer who apparently shrank his tumour with his mind, he was cured. Nobody really knows how it happened. But here he is.
“I think what healed me was all those women praying for me to come and see them one more time,” says Hawkins.
On Nov. 21, Hawkins, who currently resides on a massive spread outside of Peterborough, will be telling some stories from the past, and he has plenty of them. In addition, he’ll be singing five songs as long as he is able. His backing band, the Weber Brothers, includes his son Robbie.
Specials guests are rumoured to be dropping by. Hawkins says he’s not allowed to name names, just in case, but if they show, well, “It’s big time.”
No surprise there.
