On 15 March 1991 Harold McMillan (BFT) interviewed Henry "Blues Boy" Hubbard (BBH) at his home in Austin, Texas on videotape.

BFT: The big thing that we're trying to do is to put together a blues history of Austin and this first segment that we're doing, our major focus are on the guys who are older than you are: T.D. [Bell] and Erbie [Bowser], Grey Ghost. Probably we'll end up spending some time talking with Snuff Johnson, because of his age and what he does more so than because he's been out actually doing it. But there aren't really too many people around here who do what he does, who have been doing it for 40 years. But in terms of being a professional player, he doesn't really have that much experience.

BBH: There are some older guys, but most of them are dead now, too. Like you've probably never heard of Mac Moore.

BFT: Who's Mac?

BBH: He was doing the same thing that Grey Ghost is doing, and Mr. Shaw. I know you got some some clips and probably saw some things on Mr. Shaw. He was doing the same thing that Grey Ghost was doing. But so was Mac Moore. Mac Moore was a black guy; right now, he should probably be the around same age as Grey Ghost is, but he died probably 20 years ago.

BFT: So we are trying to put together, and we don't expect that we are going to be able to do this this week and next week. We are trying to work on this project, a long scope of what is going on that will take us a while to do. And we'll end up having some archival footage and interviews and that kind of thing, but out of that footage we hope to pull at least three 30-minute or hour documentaries, so it will be a mixture of performances and interviews and shots around town and that kind of stuff. If we keep doing this and keep collecting footage, then in five years we might be ready to do a piece that deals specifically with you and your career. If that kind of thing happens, then we'll have the footage we've shot, and maybe access to some of the footage Terry's done, and maybe interviews over two or three years. So, maybe it could be a good piece. We keep talking about blues history. Kind of a subtext under that, mostly what I'm personally interested in, is seeing some like unified documentation on black folks in the music business in Austin. So now that I've said those kind of general things...

BBH: Well, most of the black guys that was playing when I came to Austin is the ones that I can talk about or tell you about. Like I said, when I came here, Mac Moore was playing. And what's his name, Willy Bell, guitar player that was playing, that you don't hardly hear anybody mention his name. And he was a real good blues guitarist because he didn't know nothing else but blues. He was real nice. There was a guy named Tolliver, Peggy Tolliver. You've never heard of him. See, Peggy Tolliver was a blues guitarist in Austin when I came here. And there was a guy named Bob White who played guitar when I was here and first got to Austin. People probably never mention those kind of people. Nobody mention those kind of guys, and they really laid down. 'Cause Bob White was a really good guitar player. He didn't just play blues -- he could play. In fact, most of his gigs was jazz gigs. But he and a guy named Armstrong was the drummer. George Armstrong was his name; he played drums. I saw him on TV last year during Christmas playing in California on a set -- that what is on Channel 17. This girl comes out, and there's a movie going, and they break into the movie all the time. And she talks, and they had a band on there, and I looked, and it was George. That was last year. He left Austin probably 20 years ago, or 25. And I said, well there's George on that. They had well about four guys back there playing.

BFT: When did you get to town?

BBH: I came here in '55, but it was the last month of '55. I didn't really get out on the streets until '56. And the first time I got out on the streets, I got a gig that night, and have been playing ever since. I walked into a club, and there was supposed to be a trio in the Victory Grill, and it was a duet, just two cats, a guitar and a drum, can you imagine. I walked in and went, "Man, it looks like I know these cats!" Then I went up to the bandstand. And these two cats, they looked at me. And the drummer said, "Hey man, don't you play?" And I said, yeah. He said, "But you play guitar." I said, but I can play piano. He said, "Man, we sure could use some help." I got out on the piano and started playing. And I played with those guys for over a year.

BFT: Who was that?

BBH: Duffy and Jewel Simmons. Duffy was the drummer and singer, and Jewel was the guitar player. That was the... At that time, that was the swingingest black club in East Austin, was the Victory Grill with these cats playing. And they had three pieces. They had a guy playing piano named Earl Jackson, but he was being him. And the guy that run the club had had some words like the night or two before and he wasn't in there no more. George Nichols was running the club at the time. They hired me right on the spot and like I said, I played there for over a year, playing piano.

BFT: What else was going on in town?

BBH: T.D. was playing around, you know, not nowhere in particular, just playing here and there. And Willie Bell was playing the same way, wherever he could, you know? And Peggy Tolliver was playing wherever he could. But Jewel Simmons and Duffy, they had a nightly thing. They had six nights a week and had two after-hours, too. And that was out at Cheryl Ann's, which is now Ernie's Chicken Shack. That was Cheryl Ann's. And then later on, we... What happened was cats would go wherever they figured they could make the most money, you know? So they played there for the club, Cheryl Ann's. There was some ladies that was running the club, so I guess it got it's name from the two broads Cheryl and Ann, you know? They had some clubs on 12th Street, which was Good Daddies. But it wasn't Good Daddies then, it was Tom Plumber, and he was running the club, and we would play there for a while. And then if we figured we could go back out there at the Cheryl Ann and make more money, then we would do it. We just kept doing that over and over.

BFT: Where were the clubs up on 12th Street?

BBH: Right there, what is it now? The club that George Underwood was running for a while, it was right in there. And it was called... I done forgot the name of it. But anyway, I know a guy named Tom Plumber was running it, an old fellow, which was also a deputy sheriff, I think, at the time. And then Good Daddy opened it up, and it was "Good Daddy's" for a pretty good while.

BFT: Who was Good Daddy?

BBH: I can't think of that guy's name, his real name. I can't think of his name. But it was the guy and his son. And for years I thought the son was Good Daddy, but it was his daddy that they called Good Daddy. His last name was Powell. In fact, he was running the club across from Ernie's Chicken Shack, that drive-in there. He was running that thing until some dude got killed out there, and that's when they closed that down. 'Remember that, when that guy got killed out there at the club. That was Martin's Drive Inn, that's what it was. They made a club sort of out of it. Well, Good Daddy was running that I think. Same place.

BFT: That's not Big Scotty, is it?

BBH: Well, Scott's at the Chicken Shack, see. Yeah, Scott's running the Chicken Shack.

BFT: What kind of music were you playing then?

BBH: Same thing I'm playing now. Same thing I'm playing now: the blues. We were playing Little Junior Parker, Bobbie Bland, B.B. King, Little Walter, Little Willie John, Hank Ballard and the Midnighters, the Five Royals, and that kind of stuff. They had a lot of groups then. They had the Cloves. They had the Five Royals. They had the Midnighters. And also, Joe Tex was doing some things that was on the rhythm and blues charts back in those days. And they had guys who would jump up from Louisiana who you never heard of before and was put out, like the Neville brothers and all that kind of stuff.

They would come through under a lot of different other things. Like, I didn't know until now that that was the Neville brothers -- not all of them -- on the Meters. I don't know if you've heard of the group "the Meters," but some of those are the Neville brothers, and I just found that out. And then they put out a song. What was it, "Tell It Like It Is?" That was the Neville brothers, you know? I never did know that then see. But now I do. So, those guys have been in a lot of different things way back then. They were just venturing out as one person you know, and the guys in the background nobody ever knew, you know? Because I forgot what they called that guy that was on "Tell It Like It Is," but I don't think it was a Neville brother, but it was.

BFT: I think it was released under Aaron Neville.

BBH: Right, that's what it was! That's exactly what it was.

BFT: If I tried to get you to talk about what the scene was like in between the late fifties and whatever, what were the audiences like, who were you playing to?

BBH: In the fifties, you had a big audience of blacks, because blacks was off into the blues then. And they had like one or two special groups, and I was lucky enough to come to Austin and get with the group that was number one at the time.

And then, when I put my group together in about '57, almost '58, we were lucky enough to pull a big crowd, because what I did was use a guy named L.P. Pearson. And he was playing bass. And he used to come to the Victory where we was playing. And I said, boy, this guy could sing the blues, you know? And I hired him, because he could really sing the blues, and that's what people were going for. People will buy singing before they will instrumentals, you know? And man, he could really wail! So that's... I hired L.P.

And he was playing a bass with an Epiphone guitar. And he took an Epiphone guitar and took the three little strings off and left the three big strings on there. And then he tuned it down lower than what the regular E natural requires. He dropped the strings, and he was getting a "bom-bom-bom" sound, and that really did move people, you know? That's basically what I did. Instead of having a piano, guitar and drums, I started off with a piano, guitar, bass, drums and a harmonica player.

And we was all stationed out at Bergstrom [former Air Force base in Austin] except a couple of us, you know? And that's what I started off with. And they had to go by Tony Von's Show Bar to get to the Victory Grill. And the Show Bar used to have windows that you could let up all the way around. See, it's not like that now, which is Charlie's Playhouse now. And Tony would let the windows up all the way around where you could see the people and see the band. And the people would pass by going to the Victory Grill, and see after I split from the Victory and came down there and got a group together, they'd go, "Dog, looks like something's happening over here and this place, man, you know?" And they'd pay and go in there.

And by the weeks the Victory didn't have nobody. We went up there that Saturday, me and L.P., and there wasn't nobody there but the help, you know? And the Victory was literally closed down from then on, you know? George Nichols went up to 12th Street and opened up the Palladium, which was the same guy that was running the Victory Grill back in the early, in the late, in the middle fifties. That was George Nichols. And a lady, his wife then, was Vallie. And she opened up a club right down the street called the Shamrock. It's still there now, you know, there where the Playhouse is, where the light is, that club right across the street there used to be the Shamrock. And then, Brooks started running the place. In fact, Brooks died. He was running that place then, I think. But that was Vallie's place, which was George Nichols' wife.

BFT: Brooks that used to be down on 6th Street?

BBH: Right.

BFT: He's dead?

BBH: He's dead.

BFT: I didn't know that. Sometime in the last couple of years?

BBH: Right.

BFT: I want you to move your chair over this way some. I'll move it.

BBH: You know where you want it, huh? That's what Major used to give us all the time. He's always had a back problem.

BFT: Hernia operation stuff. It's hard to find somebody to move your equipment for you.

BBH: That's literally the reason that Major's not playing. Because he wasn't making enough out of it to pay somebody to always do it and Major sure wasn't going to do it his self. That's why Major would have to time to time cut it lose, you know? 'Cause wasn't nobody going to run around with him packing that stuff.

BFT: And he got to the point where he had lots of equipment.

BBH: Yeah, he had all that old big equipment, big PA system, and you know? He couldn't get nobody to do that all the time for free, and there wasn't enough money in it to keep paying somebody. So that's why Major would cut it lose, and I would go back and get him after two or three years. And he'd say, "Well, I can play with Hubbard because I ain't got to pack nothing. You know, Hubbard's got his van, and he's getting all his equipment in there." And then he'd get the fever again and want to go back and get his group. And he'd go back and get his group, but then he'd have to start packing, and pretty soon, he'd cut it lose again. Yep, he would cut it lose.

BFT: Let's go back to 1958 or whatever. The first place you played was Victory Grill. You kind of stepped into a gig there?

BBH: Yeah, right, on piano.

BFT: Then you started getting some other people together?

BBH: See, what happened was when I was playing in the Victory Grill, I had a chance to meet musicians that would come in there and sit in, you know? And that gave me a good opportunity to put my group together, see, 'cause that's what I did. L.P. would come up there and sing, you know? And I said, man, that cat can really sing, you know? So that's the first guy I grabbed when Tony Von came up there. He came by my house one day, and he said, "Man, I sure need a band down to the Show Bar." Because he had jazz down there, and he had a real nice jazz group. But see, jazz just wasn't selling, you know.

BFT: Do you know who was playing?

BBH: Gus Pool was the leader and the piano player, who later moved to L.A. like most guys did around here, you know? But Gus Pool was the band leader and piano player. He was a real good piano player. And he had Spec Hicks on tenor. He's dead now. Moved to Houston, but he's dead. And he had Green on trumpet. I don't know where Green is. He had, what is the guy, Karo on bass. It was one of them upright bass. I think he even had Bobby Bradford. I don't know if you've heard of Bobby Bradford. He had him on trumpet. And I think he had Hoss Ross on drums. And then he also had a guy on bass called Foby Joe. Which, he's dead, I think. Foby Joe played bass with him for a while. But like I said, they had a good group.

But Tony Von knew that I played guitar. At the time I was even singing a little bit. Tony came down to La Grange with a guy from Huston-Tillotson who was from La Grange. They came down and picked me up, and I came back up here and I played for Tony before I went into the Air Force, see. In fact, I was about 17 or 18 years old. So Tony already knew that I was a guitar player and sang a little bit, you know? That's why he came by and short-stopped me one day and told me, "I sure wish you'd put a group together and come down there and play for me," you know? And that's what I did. And I've been playing ever since.

BFT: So, you were instrumental in getting him a crowd together?

BBH: Right, like I said I took... At the time, it didn't take a musician long to realize what sells, you know?

By playing in La Grange, I played lots when I was in La Grange, even 16 or 14 years old. In fact, I played my first gig when I was 12 years old. I played by myself. Played piano and was singing, you know? Made five bucks! Hahaha! That was my first gig. But like I said, it doesn't take a musician long to figure out what sells, if you've got any brains at all. And I knew that L.P. would sell, if I could get him on a bandstand and get him playing, because he had a lot of charisma, you know, on the bandstand. He moved around.

In fact, it took a long time. Most of the cats at Bergstrom thought he was playing the guitar and I was playing bass, because when I played I usually just kind of stood still because I concentrate on what I'm doing, and by doing so, I have to kind of stand still and concentrate. But L.P. was just moving all over the place, all the time, you know? And guys would say, "Which one of you guys is playing lead guitar?" you know? I'd say, I am. That cat'd say, "Man, when I come up there tonight, I'm going to check ya'll out and see, because man, I thought that other dude was playing lead guitar." Because he was right: L.P. was a showman, you know? He moved around a lot and did everything. He'd take the bass from around his neck and drop it way down and play it for a while and get back up there. They thought, "Well, that guy's clowning. He must be playing lead!" He was playing bass, you know, and he was singing.

And at that time, I would sing maybe one song a month, because I used to sing "Stormy Monday" all the time, because I loved T-Bone Walker. So I knew quite a few of his tunes, but "Stormy Monday" was the one that I would sing. And then, with a guy like L.P. around, I said, man, I'm going to have to stop stinging. This dude's too clean, you know? He's too tough. Then after I hired A.J. Manor into the group, then I quit singing right there, boy. I cut singing aloose. Because A.J. was a monster, boy. He could sing, man! He could sound just like guys who he would sing. If he wanted to do a Bobby Bland tune, he'd sound just like him. And he had enough knowledge of music and talent to do just that man. He'd work with that song and tell me, "Man, do I sound like Bobby?" Hell yeah. Like I said, A.J. could really sing, and L.P. could sing. But you probably heard L.P. sing. But man, compared to now to then, it's a lot different because, man, this cat was young and still had a lot of talent. He had a lot of lungs, and could really belt it out then, boy. But now we're getting old.

BFT: How old are you?

BBH: Fifty-seven.