“Catfish John was a real person. He was a friend of my Dad’s. I resurrected him.” – Bob McDill
The song “Catfish John” resonates deeply with listeners, carrying a weight of emotion that demands mindful appreciation. The lyrics, particularly “Though he never spoke in anger, but his load was hard to bear,” encapsulate a profound sense of quiet suffering.
This iconic country song was penned by the prolific Bob McDill, a songwriter who gifted the world 31 number-one hits. “Catfish John” first appeared on his 1972 album, “Short Stories.” Take a listen here and you’ll be immediately drawn in by the haunting reverb-laden harmonies of the intro. As the intro fades, the song settles into a gentle, reminiscent tone, akin to a John Denver classic, expressing a heartfelt fondness for a friend from the past.
The song’s appeal is widespread, leading to numerous interpretations. Johnny Russell offered his rendition on the album “Here Comes Johnny Russell,” featuring a distinctive harmonica intro, also rich with reverb. You can listen to Johnny Russell’s version here. More recently, ZenDog performed “Catfish John,” opting for a more minimalist reverb approach, available for listening at this link.
“Catfish John” exists in multiple dimensions: as a song, a character, and surprisingly, a real individual. Many associate Catfish John with the Jerry Garcia Band (JGB), for whom it became a signature song. The character is often envisioned as a “river hobo,” a freed slave originating from Mississippi. But beyond the song and the character, lies a true story. Bob McDill, in an interview, revealed the personal connection: “Catfish John was a real person. He was a friend of my Dad’s. I resurrected him.“
This revelation begs the question: Who was this man who made such an impression on a young Bob McDill’s father?
Bob McDill’s father, Guy Vernon McDill, was born in 1910 in Conehatta, Mississippi. Bob himself was born later in Beaumont, Texas in 1944 to Guy Vernon McDill and Ruby Lee McCauley. The photograph below shows Bob’s parents, Ruby Lee and Guy Vernon McDill. It was Guy Vernon who had the firsthand experience with the real Catfish John.
Ruby Lee hailed from Beaumont, Texas, while Guy Vernon’s roots were firmly planted in Mississippi. Conehatta, Mississippi, his birthplace, is situated approximately 90 miles east of Vicksburg and about 40 minutes west of Meridian.
It’s important to note that Conehatta isn’t in the Mississippi Delta. The song lyric mentioning “sweet Delta dawn” is likely poetic license, not geographical accuracy. Emmylou Harris’s song “Red Dirt Girl” with the line “just a red dirt town across the line [on the other side] from Meridian,” perhaps provides a more fitting description of the region’s landscape. The 1920 census records Guy Vernon McDill, age 9, residing in Beat 3, Newton, Mississippi.
In census terminology, a “Beat” defined a census taker’s territory. Newton is the county encompassing Conehatta. The census lists Guy Vernon’s father, Robert McDill, as a farmer. His mother was Lydia Adele McDill. The lyric, “Mama said don’t go near that river,” suddenly takes on a personal dimension. This was likely Lydia Adele McDill cautioning her son, Guy Vernon. But what river was she referring to?
To pinpoint the river, we need to locate the McDill farm in the early 1900s. “Beat 3” is a broad area, not a specific address. Robert McDill, Guy Vernon’s father, was born in 1860 and lived until the age of 93 in Newton County, MS. His obituary mentions his lifelong membership at Sulphur Spring Baptist Church, near Sebastopol, MS, in Scott County, bordering Newton County. In that era, church travel meant walking or horse-drawn buggy. It’s logical to assume the McDill farm was situated near the church, close to the Scott County line, and north of Conehatta. Adding to this, a road named “McDill Road” exists in Newton County. More than a coincidence, it’s likely the McDill family lived on this road, which the postal service later named “McDill Road,” perhaps because they were its primary residents.
This narrows down our search area for Catfish John: Sulphur Springs Baptist Church to the north, Conehatta to the southeast, the Newton-Scott county line to the west, and McDill Road running through it.
Zooming in, we confirm McDill Road’s presence and identify Tuscolameta Creek labeled nearby.
The book “History of Newton County from 1834-1894” notes that Newton County’s waterways are mostly creeks, with Tuscolameta being a “large creek.” Perhaps large enough to be considered a “river” in local parlance. However, the Tuscolameta Creek of Catfish John’s time is not the same today. The “Tuscalometa Creek” on modern maps is a canal, one of two channeled from the original Tuscolameta in 1924, likely for flood control. Yet, traces of the original waterway remain. An 1888 Mississippi map reveals a river named “Young Warrior” along the Newton-Scott County Line, precisely where our area of interest lies. “Tuscalometa” is derived from the Choctaw phrase for “Young Warrior.”
This original Tuscalometa River, before its channeling, is likely where young Guy Vernon McDill encountered Catfish John, defying his mother’s warnings.
But who was Catfish John himself? The 1920 census for Beat 3 lists two African American men named John Brown, both farmers with families. These don’t fit the “river hobo” persona of Catfish John. If Catfish John was truly a transient river dweller, census takers likely wouldn’t have found him, and he probably wouldn’t have wanted to be found. Identifying the real Catfish John definitively might be lost to history, requiring a more imaginative approach.
By 1920, fifty-five years had passed since the end of the Civil War, when Guy Vernon McDill was old enough to explore the wilderness. This places the real Catfish John in his 60s or 70s around 1920. Bob McDill, Guy Vernon’s son, received a university education, studying literature at Lamar College. Interestingly, during college, he played in a band at a club called The Taproom. Janis Joplin, also a Lamar student, frequented The Taproom, listening to McDill’s band while studying. But that’s another story…
McDill’s literary background is key to understanding the possible identity of Catfish John, or at least the type of person he might have been. Many authors wrote about the lives of freed slaves in the post-Civil War South, the Reconstruction era. W.E. DuBois and Charles Chesnutt are notable examples. The song describes Catfish John as born a slave in Vicksburg, MS, traded for a horse. If this is accurate, Catfish John was likely a young child, no older than ten, when slavery ended. This transaction would have undoubtedly separated him from his family. After the war, Catfish John became a “river hobo,” eking out a living, likely fishing in the Tuscolameta and bartering or selling his catch for survival. The 1924 channeling of his river, disrupting the ecosystem, likely marked the beginning of his demise, as he was intrinsically tied to that river. This wasn’t just a spiritual connection but a result of the psychological impact of slavery and continued oppression after Emancipation.
Charles Chesnutt’s writings offer a compelling parallel to Catfish John’s story. His 1899 book, “The Conjure Woman,” is a collection of short stories about a Northern white couple who move South after the Civil War, seeking a milder climate and affordable land from abandoned plantations.
The husband in Chesnutt’s stories becomes a grape farmer and winemaker. In “The Goophered Grapevine,” the couple explores an old plantation, noticing an overgrown grapevine. They encounter Uncle Julius, an elderly former slave, sitting on a log. Uncle Julius warns them against buying the plantation, claiming the grapevine is “goophered,” or cursed, by a conjure woman to prevent slaves from eating the grapes. He recounts detailed stories of the curse and its victims, whose health mirrored the vine’s life cycle. Undeterred, the couple buys the plantation. They learn Uncle Julius had worked there his entire life before emancipation. Afterward, he remained, squatting on the land, earning a meager living from the vine’s dwindling grapes. His “goophered grapevine” story was a ploy to protect his livelihood from new landowners. A passage describes Uncle Julius’s institutionalization (though the concept wasn’t known then):
Toward my tract of land and the things that were on it – the creeks, the swamps, the hills, the meadows, the stones, the trees- he maintained a peculiar personal attitude that might be called predial [owned by] rather than proprietary. He had been accustomed, until long after middle life to look upon himself as property of another. When this relation was no longer possible, owing to the war, and to his master’s death and the dispersion of the family, he had been unable to break off entirely the mental habits of a lifetime, but had attached himself to the old plantation, of which he seemed to consider himself an appurtenance.
This description strongly resonates with the likely reality of Catfish John. A man enslaved, treated as property, torn from his family as a child, and then marginalized as a freedman in the oppressive South. Lacking family support, he likely struggled to adapt and lived as a recluse. The 1924 channeling of his river, destroying his ecosystem, would have been devastating. Imagine Catfish John’s desperate pleas, warnings, or tales to deter the excavators from rerouting his river, much like Uncle Julius. The psychological trauma and mental health struggles Catfish John faced are unimaginable, especially in the resource-scarce Reconstruction South.
Understanding this harsh reality makes the song’s final line, “Though his load was hard to bear,” even more poignant.
When we listen to “Catfish John,” we should acknowledge the humanity and kindness he showed young Guy Vernon McDill, despite having every reason to be bitter. Lydia Adele McDill’s warning to Guy Vernon to avoid Tuscolameta Creek and the river hobo outcast now carries deeper meaning. Catfish John, like Uncle Julius, was bound to the river, unable to fully escape the psychological chains of slavery and oppression. Crucially, we must remember the immense hardships and lack of support Catfish John endured. “Though his load was hard to bear” is the song’s most crucial message. Catfish John was real, and his struggles were real. Let his song stand as a testament to his memory and to countless others who faced similar, or even greater, hardships in lives that were, indeed, hard to bear.
