The Scales Of Justice: SHE LIVED ON LOVE STREET: PAMELA SUSAN COURSON
Mar 2, I don't think he felt any guilt over triangulated relationships, making women compete Patricia Kennealy Morrison is called Jim Morrison's widow. Pamela Courson in her twenties about the time she knew Jim. . Stick with me as I provide you the telling quotes from Patricia's book, and try to figure this one. Although they were deeply in love, their relationship was tumultuous and they On Wednesday, June 26, , Jim Morrison and Pamela Courson went to Los. Pamela Susan Courson (December 22, – April 25, ) was a long-term companion of Jim Morrison, singer of Courson's relationship with Morrison was tumultuous with loud arguments and repeated infidelities by both partners.
They made the album from their heart. The Doors were making the record Jim wanted, rather than what was expected. For certain songs he crouched in the doorway of the toilet, having ripped the door off for good measure. He was in the mood. He was in trouble, yeah, he was, but without the world around him, everything else went away. The bulk of recording was completed in six days. During recording he gave an interview to the Village Voice, describing this rapid process.
Like a song a day, which is unusual. Like the first album. Partly because we went back to the original instrumentation: But I will get back in the saddle. I go through cycles of non- productiveness, and then intense periods of creativity.
Ode to a Deep Love: Jim Morrison & Pamela Courson | avesisland.info | KQRS-FM
I feel like a large mammal, a big beast. When I move through the corridors or across the lawn, I just feel like I could knock anybody out of my way. You gotta get eighty-sixed [barred] from seven nightclubs.
I hang around mostly with the Irish — and the Italians. He was less flippant with the Los Angeles Free Press. We leave a tape running. Alcohol and heroin and downers — these are painkillers.
Also, I hate scoring. I hate the kind of sleazy sexual connotations of scoring from people, so I never do that. An obvious single, said the band. Krieger pleaded for Riders On The Storm but was overruled. Lyrically it was a slight piece concerning a short holiday Jim took in Mexico with his drinking crew. He saturated the airwaves — you could hear him from Tijuana to Tallahassie up to Chicago where Ray lived. There were no laws about how powerful a radio station could be.
I was taking notes at a fantastic rock concert that only existed inside my head. Morrison, a Presley fanatic, was delighted. So was drummer Densmore. He allowed me to communicate rhythmically with Morrison, and he slowed Ray down, when his right hand on the keyboards got too darn fast. Benno would play on four numbers. He had a hand-held microphone and a telephone book full of songs.
One day he stopped the session and took me to lunch. When we got back Jim had me show Robby a lick I was playing, and we used it on L. We worked the tunes up on the spot, and did very few takes. He cut loose completely while recording, and the result was a very spontaneous album.
He set it inside a prison. Yet, that was where he would end up if the aftermath of the Miami trial went wrong. Jim said it was about living in Venice [Beach], in a hot room, with a hot girlfriend, and an open window, and a bad time.
It could have been about Pamela Courson. On that blues roll, the song L. Woman completed the session. Lyrically, Morrison was inspired here by Los Angeles novelist John Rechy, whose novel City Of Night was a college favourite, and s writer John Fante, who described Hollywood in love-hate lines like: Woman was recorded in a state of high excitement. The Doors jumped in. We dug our teeth into that song. It was all about passion and hauling ass. It felt like we were on Routeon the road from Bakersfield to San Francisco.
You can hear our enthusiasm. Welcome to Los Angeles! He was tired and hitting the bottle. After imbibing a lot of Old Bushmills he passed out and collapsed onto a stack of equipment. The next day Morrison demanded the Doors hit the road to play L. Dates in Dallas and New Orleans were arranged for the 11th and 12th. The gig at the Warehouse, New Orleans, was a fiasco. It was the last live show the band ever gave. The music was over. He was so dissipated. His voice got lower and lower and he ground to a halt.
He was so out of it. That was a depressing experience. They finished with Light My Fire and Jim was hanging on the microphone trying to sing. It was about a hitchhiker, a killer who hijacks a blue Mustang in Joshua Tree desert. Paul told me they lost it afterwards and tripped back to Los Angeles. Anyhow, it gave Morrison the lyric for the last song he ever sang on planet Earth with The Doors.
Morrison added a harmony vocal to Hyacinth House and, having suggested to Botnick that they use a thunderstorm sound effect as an opener for Riders On The Storm, he climaxed the final number with an eerie vocal whisper that was his last recorded contribution to the band.
Elektra boss Jac Holzman turned up during the final mixing. On hearing the album he broke down in tears. His most beloved charges had delivered after all. Now they were out of contract. Woman finished and the title agreed, The Doors convened for the cover photo shoot. Morrison sat down on a stool, hunched, an unseen bottle of Irish whiskey at his feet. He was sitting down because he was drunk. A psychic would have known that guy is on the way out. There was a great weight on him. They came up with an idea for a rounded corner cover and a cellophane window.
Behind that was a yellow inner sleeve showing a woman crucified on an electricity pole. The album was released in April It hit the Top 10 a few weeks later. During the making of L.
Jim paid for Themis with his Strange Days royalty cheque. Pam, a junkie herself, returned to Jim for a tempestuous Christmas then went back to Paris to renew her relationship with the Count on February Morrison was now talking about moving to France himself. A tactical exit from the USA was a good idea.
While Courson was strung out on the Left Bank, Morrison started taking more cocaine. He chain smoked Marlboros and Gauloises, and became more addicted to hard liquor. He and Stills shared a Florida military brat background.
Jac Holzman saw Jim for the last time at an Elektra Records party to show off a new studio complex on March 3. I could feel finality hanging in the air. Jim and I hugged each other, and then he turned somewhat awkwardly and walked away.
He got so smashed he missed the plane, and travelled out the following day, flying TWA Ambassador Class. Courson found them a lavishly furnished third floor, three-bedroom apartment in the Marais district, 17 Beautreillis, owned by a French model and starlet Elizabeth Lariviere. The French Connection clockwise from top left: It was no secret that Paris was awash with heroin, nowhere more so than in the rock clubs. I remember him coming in once three nights in a row. He was interested in my friend Sky, a half-breed American Apache.
They had things in common: Jim wanted to replace Sky in Vietnam so he could get an honorable discharge. I never saw him take drugs, but he was always alcoholised, heavy on his words, a bit emotional.
It went through his eyes for a moment. He was fed up. He was not in a good place.
They took photos, always Jim on the couch, in the same space. As for the narcotics scene, Chauvel equates it with the times. The night club scene was heavy — gangsters and very bad cops. There were a lot of fistfights inside, which wound up on the stairs and in the street. There was a gunfight outside the club. I used to carry a bayonet for protection.
- Pamela Courson
For two weeks Pam and Jim shared the apartment before Lariviere split for St. He was suffering lingering pneumonia. He was prone to violent hiccups. To escape the Parisian damp, the two young Americans decided to catch some sunshine. On their return, May 3, Morrison seemed happy. He and Pam enjoyed being tourists, shooting Super-8 home movies.
Ode to a Deep Love: Jim Morrison & Pamela Courson
Jim was often alone in the apartment now since Pam and the Count were, allegedly, seeing a lot of each other. True to form, Jim looked for new buddies. Largely unnoticed, Morrison would prop up the bar — a bottle of vodka in tow. Here on May 7 a young Frenchman called Gilles Yepremian came across Morrison being evicted from the Circus by the bouncers, after he sunk too much whiskey and rearranged the furrniture.
I got another taxi and Jim was so pleased he tried to tip the man hundreds of francs. He was laughing uncontrollably. They left him, passed out. The following afternoon Morrison took his new pals to the bar Alexander where he downed Bloody Marys and an entire bottle of Chivas Regal. He insulted nearby diners and became increasingly abusive.
Very quiet and shy. Once he became drunk he was a madman. Jim settled on Buffy Sainte-Marie.
They waited two days for a replacement passport then flew to Ajaccio. Pam hired them year old French-Canadian Robin Wertle.Jim Morrison & Pamela Courson~Indian Summer
Back in Paris, Morrison described his adventures to old friends Frank and Kathy Lisciandro, and suggested they visit: He sent his attorney Max Fink a postcard of Moroccan scenes. He said good things about the band… He sounded happier than when he left. He drank a lot of brandy. Other times I saw him in my courtyard. He used to visit us and eat.
He sat in my yard for many hours. I never even took his photograph. His wish in Paris was to write poems. It was always in company. In London, Morrison met up with McClure. The Bobbies busted us for being drunk and disorderly. Finally we decided to take a taxi to the Lake District, and got busted again. Morrison invited Alain Ronay to London. I never saw Jim sign one autograph. We went to the theatre, did all the usual things. I returned with them to Paris and moved into the apartment.
Pam had her own life entirely. But strike the fact that Jim was despondent, or drug addicted, or terminally depressed. He was living his dream, and that had nothing to do with rock. He was delighted at the success of L. Woman, but his pleasure lay elsewhere. One mid-June day, with Paris sweltering in a heat wave, Morrison collected kindling wood from the courtyard at Beautreillis for the fireplace.
Carrying it upstairs with Ronay, he was soon out of breath. Morrison laughed the incident off, but was sweating heavily.
Two riders on the storm - Telegraph
He renewed a prescription for the treatment of pneumonia and respiratory problems. Faux suicidal, Pam often spent nights with the Count, while sharing her saner moments bullying Morrison over his lack of writing activity. Speaking to Bill [Siddons] a while back I told him of our desire to stay here indefinitely.
He was fascinated by the atmosphere of unrest in a Paris still recovering from the riots of He wrote brief verses, often sitting on a bench in the tranquil Place des Vosges — his favourite haunt.
In another he gives Ronay his best lop-sided grin. Back in Paris that night Pam got hold of more heroin. On July I Morrison was spotted by an American fan dining alone, drinking white wine and munching a croque monsieur in the bar Le Mazet after he and Pam had a blazing row in a neighbourhood restaurant near Beautreillis, witnessed by two German students who shared their table. Muller recalls that Ronay turned up during the interval, and they left the theatre with Morrison.
Muller never saw Morrison again. And yet Jim Morrison had already been dead, apparently, for four or five hours, in a hot bath. The film, starring Marlon Brando, released inabout an American exiled — and dying — in Paris was, some said later, influenced by the Morrison story. Morrison bought Pamela jewellery. Jim called at the cobblers to collect some boots. Morrison begged him to stay: Ronay looked at Jim alive for the last time in the Place de la Bastille.
He saw a face like a death mask. Sensing his stare, Morrison asked: They went for dinner around the time Jim and Pam supposedly went to eat a Chinese meal. Ronay had recommended the couple go to see the film Pursued, a Freudian Western set in New Mexico, starring Robert Mitchum, about a young boy whose family is wiped out. Bored and opiated, Jim returned around 1am, July 3. As usual they built a fire — despite the warmth of the night. Jim started drinking whiskey. He tried to write at his desk, in the spiral-bound reporters pad that will become known as his last French Notebook.
For the third day in a row he sniffed heroin off a mirror. He and Pam watched a sequence of their on-the-road-in-Europe Super-8 cine movies. Later we played some records that I found in the bedroom and we played music for two hours lying on the bed… I think we fell asleep about 2. The record player turned itself off. He was so noisy I got the impression he must need help. I wanted to help my friend. I asked him, did he want a doctor? He said he was OK, and he was going to take a hot bath.
Two riders on the storm
Now my friend says he feels strange. I ran to the bathroom, and saw he was still in the bath with his head back as if asleep. He had blood round his nostrils. I tried to pull him out of the bath but it was impossible for me. The couple take more heroin. Jim carries on drinking. He runs a bath. As dawn breaks, Pamela wakes to realise that Morrison is still in the bathroom.
On finding him in the bath, Pam realises Jim Morrison is either dead or dying. Jim Morrison's parents later contested the Coursons' executorship of the estate, leading to additional legal battles. In both parties agreed to divide the earnings from Morrison's estate equally. She was beautiful, she looked like the Snow Queen and yet she did things like collect Lugers. She had a vicious sense of humor. She loved travel because she said you never had to think about it.
When you were traveling and you were a tourist, you got up and life happened to you. She was the most dangerous girl I ever met. After Jim died and we were both just out of our heads we would do things like go to Tijuana and get crazy.
We'd check into sleazy hotels and go down to Rosarito Beach and drink everything in sight. One time this guy that was with us yelled some really bad things to La Policia and they came after us. One guy was trying to take the keys to Pam's new VW away, so I hit him over the head with my shoe. And we had to pay off on our MasterCard. We ran it through at a hotel and they actually let us charge our bribe.
I don't behave like that normally.