With roughly seven weeks to go until round one of the mayoral election, here’s what we know so far from the latest polls.

If the election were held today, the winner would be . . . Karen Lewis!

OK, I’ll get to that. But, first, a word or two about a recent “poll”. 

It was put out by Crain’s Chicago Business and the Daily Line, who explain that, despite headlines to the contrary, it’s a “survey” not a poll.

Not sure what the distinction is. And I’m sure there’s no truth to the rumors that it’s based on  Crain’s political columnist Greg Hinz standing on the corner of State and Randloph and calling out to passersby, “Hey, who ya’ votin’ for?” 

According to the survey/poll, Cook County commissioner Brandon Johnson and Congressperson Jesús “Chuy” García are tied at the top without 25 percent of the vote.

Not surprisingly, that finding is enthusiastically championed by Johnson and García and disdainfully dismissed by Mayor Lori Lightfoot, Willie Wilson, Paul Vallas, Kam Buckner, Sophia King, Ja’Mal Green, and Roderick Sawyer. AKA—the other candidates in the race.

I’m with them—I don’t believe that poll/survey, either. Don’t take it personally, Crain’s—at the moment, I’m not believing any polls.

No, it’s pretty obvious that campaign strategists are using fake polls as propaganda to fire up their supporters and dispirit their opponents. 

It’s dirty politics masked as scientific research, and as usual the Republicans are a step ahead of the Democrats at this game. As we saw in the midterms when a series of phony Republican polls bamboozled the New York Times into sounding a warning about a Red Tide. Which turned out to be a red trickle.

The brouhaha over the mayoral poll/survey demonstrates the reality about mayoral elections that all candidates would agree on, so long as they’re speaking off the record.

Chicago politics is a little like making hit movies in Hollywood—no one knows nothing.

If we’ve learned anything from the last two mayoral elections, it’s all about the runoff, baby. If no one gets 50 percent or more from the first round on February 28, it comes down to a winner-takes-it-all showdown on April 4.

So this first round is basically a race to the runoff.

And outside a few diehards—like the people reading this column—the vast majority of Chicago voters are not yet paying attention.

Alas, the vast majority of Chicagoans will never be paying attention, if the trend of 35 percent voter turnout continues.

Having said all that, let me say this . . .

The idea of Johnson and García making the runoff caught me off guard.

As a lifelong lefty I’ve been conditioned to believe I’m so far to the left of ordinary Chicagoans that anyone I’d even consider voting for would undoubtedly lose. For me, a mayoral election is usually about deciding between the lesser of two evils—since Harold Washington, anyway. 

But at the head of this poll are two left-of-center candidates who owe their careers to Karen Lewis, the unabashedly radical former president of the Chicago Teachers Union. Is it possible that Chicago’s not so conservative after all?

Brandon Johnson worked for Karen Lewis—she hired him as a political organizer. And it was with CTU backing that he unseated Commissioner Richard Boykin as commissioner from a west and west suburban district in 2018.

He’s backed by CTU in the mayor’s race.

I have a feeling that García would have won CTU’s backing for mayor had he not dithered so much about whether he was going to run at all.

He only decided to jump in after lefties got tired of waiting for him to make up his mind and Johnson was already running.

Over the last few years, García has become a favorite of progressives outside of Chicago, by virtue of his ties to Senator Bernie Sanders. But let’s not forget that he owes his career to Karen Lewis. She plucked him from the scrap heap of Chicago politics and propped him up to run for mayor against Rahm Emanuel in 2015.

Lewis wanted to back Cook County Board president Toni Preckwinkle—but Preckwinkle opted not to run . . .

She tried to run herself. But she got sick.

So she surprised everybody by selecting García as the candidate. And then pretty much carried him to the runoff.

Back to the current race. It looks like Mayor Lightfoot’s internal polls show García is her biggest rival.

I say that because she launched an attack ad against him.

The ad rips García for taking campaign contributions from Sam Bankman-Fried—aka the Crypto Kid.

Bankman-Fried’s the 30-year-old wunderkind who convinced hundreds of fabulously wealthy people to throw millions and millions of dollars his way. He wound up allegedly spending money intended for one company, FTX, on another company, Alameda Research. Both companies went belly up, and he’s now facing federal corruption charges that could send him to prison.

So, yes, I suppose it’s fair game for Lightfoot to attack Garcia for taking donations from the Crypto Kid. On the other hand . . .

Lightfoot has her own connections to Bankman-Fried. Back in May, she was gushing over a promise by FTX to offer money and financial literacy training to low-income Chicagoans. 

Yes, she and her advisors thought it was a good idea to have a con man teach lessons of the marketplace to our citizens. Clearly, Elizabeth Holmes was unavailable for the job.

That program fell apart in the wake of FTX’s demise. If you want to know more about it, read this exposé by Manny Ramos or listen to our conversation on my podcast.

What’s worse—taking campaign contributions from Bankman-Fried or asking him to teach financial literacy to our citizens?

Eventually, dear voters, you get to decide.

The Latest from the Ben Joravsky Show

Read More

Trade in an empty bottle of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce on January 22, and receive a free 1/4 chicken at Nando’s

Nando’s believes that hot sauce and chicken go together like . . . well, like hot sauce and chicken. Just try to name a more iconic duo. We’ll wait. 

In fact, Nando’s loves this perfect pair so much that they’re turning up the heat this National Hot Sauce Day and celebrating them both—and they’re inviting you to join in on the fun.

On January 22, 2023, you can trade in an empty bottle of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce at any Nando’s restaurant across Chicagoland and receive a free quarter chicken for dine-in or carryout (limit one per guest while supplies last).

Available in five delicious varieties—Lemon & Herb, Garlic, Medium, Hot, & XX Hot—Nando’s’ PERi-PERi sauce can be purchased at any Nando’s location, on their website, or at major retailers, including Mariano’s, Whole Foods Market, Walmart, Target, Meijer, Pete’s Fresh Market, The Fresh Market, and Fresh Farms. 

Beloved by spicy food fans around the world, peri-peri sauce is believed to have been invented by Portuguese explorers in 15th-century Mozambique, who combined crushed African bird’s eye chili peppers with aromatic garlic and lemon, as well as flavorful European ingredients, including paprika, bay leaf, and red wine vinegar. 

While Nando’s customers might know PERi-PERi sauce best as a marinade and condiment for Nando’s delectable flame-grilled chicken, there are practically endless ways to enjoy it. Baste your beef, shrimp, or fish; drizzle it over eggs, roasted veggies, or mac & cheese; slather it over sandwiches, burgers, and hot dogs; add it to a party dip or game-day wings, or invent a new flavor-packed dish of your own. (Check out Nando’s website for more mouthwatering recipe ideas.) They’re made without artificial preservatives, artificial colors, or artificial flavors, and since they’re naturally gluten-free, certified kosher, and suitable for vegetarians, everyone can dig in and feel the heat.

Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce starts with African bird’s eye chili peppers sourced from their network of 1,400 local farmers located across southern Africa, whom they empower through providing access to funds, farming equipment, and seedlings as well as commitments to buy peppers at prices predetermined before the start of growing season. 

African bird’s eye chilis aren’t just flavorful and spicy—they’re healthy too. They’re loaded with capsaicin, which provides the heat factor and has been associated with many health benefits including boosting metabolism and energy, reducing inflammation, aiding digestion, and more. Experts also claim it helps reduce appetite, which may be true, though it hasn’t lessened our cravings for PERi-PERi sauce. 

So, choose your favorite variety of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce or try all five, and join Nando’s National Hot Sauce Day celebration on January 22. Whether you’re already a spice lover, or trying PERi-PERi sauce for the first time, there’s always plenty of room at Nando’s table for you.

For more information about National Hot Sauce Day at Nando’s and to find out where you can purchase a bottle of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce near you, visit nandosperiperi.com.

Read More

With roughly seven weeks to go until round one of the mayoral election, here’s what we know so far from the latest polls.

If the election were held today, the winner would be . . . Karen Lewis!

OK, I’ll get to that. But, first, a word or two about a recent “poll”. 

It was put out by Crain’s Chicago Business and the Daily Line, who explain that, despite headlines to the contrary, it’s a “survey” not a poll.

Not sure what the distinction is. And I’m sure there’s no truth to the rumors that it’s based on  Crain’s political columnist Greg Hinz standing on the corner of State and Randloph and calling out to passersby, “Hey, who ya’ votin’ for?” 

According to the survey/poll, Cook County commissioner Brandon Johnson and Congressperson Jesús “Chuy” García are tied at the top without 25 percent of the vote.

Not surprisingly, that finding is enthusiastically championed by Johnson and García and disdainfully dismissed by Mayor Lori Lightfoot, Willie Wilson, Paul Vallas, Kam Buckner, Sophia King, Ja’Mal Green, and Roderick Sawyer. AKA—the other candidates in the race.

I’m with them—I don’t believe that poll/survey, either. Don’t take it personally, Crain’s—at the moment, I’m not believing any polls.

No, it’s pretty obvious that campaign strategists are using fake polls as propaganda to fire up their supporters and dispirit their opponents. 

It’s dirty politics masked as scientific research, and as usual the Republicans are a step ahead of the Democrats at this game. As we saw in the midterms when a series of phony Republican polls bamboozled the New York Times into sounding a warning about a Red Tide. Which turned out to be a red trickle.

The brouhaha over the mayoral poll/survey demonstrates the reality about mayoral elections that all candidates would agree on, so long as they’re speaking off the record.

Chicago politics is a little like making hit movies in Hollywood—no one knows nothing.

If we’ve learned anything from the last two mayoral elections, it’s all about the runoff, baby. If no one gets 50 percent or more from the first round on February 28, it comes down to a winner-takes-it-all showdown on April 4.

So this first round is basically a race to the runoff.

And outside a few diehards—like the people reading this column—the vast majority of Chicago voters are not yet paying attention.

Alas, the vast majority of Chicagoans will never be paying attention, if the trend of 35 percent voter turnout continues.

Having said all that, let me say this . . .

The idea of Johnson and García making the runoff caught me off guard.

As a lifelong lefty I’ve been conditioned to believe I’m so far to the left of ordinary Chicagoans that anyone I’d even consider voting for would undoubtedly lose. For me, a mayoral election is usually about deciding between the lesser of two evils—since Harold Washington, anyway. 

But at the head of this poll are two left-of-center candidates who owe their careers to Karen Lewis, the unabashedly radical former president of the Chicago Teachers Union. Is it possible that Chicago’s not so conservative after all?

Brandon Johnson worked for Karen Lewis—she hired him as a political organizer. And it was with CTU backing that he unseated Commissioner Richard Boykin as commissioner from a west and west suburban district in 2018.

He’s backed by CTU in the mayor’s race.

I have a feeling that García would have won CTU’s backing for mayor had he not dithered so much about whether he was going to run at all.

He only decided to jump in after lefties got tired of waiting for him to make up his mind and Johnson was already running.

Over the last few years, García has become a favorite of progressives outside of Chicago, by virtue of his ties to Senator Bernie Sanders. But let’s not forget that he owes his career to Karen Lewis. She plucked him from the scrap heap of Chicago politics and propped him up to run for mayor against Rahm Emanuel in 2015.

Lewis wanted to back Cook County Board president Toni Preckwinkle—but Preckwinkle opted not to run . . .

She tried to run herself. But she got sick.

So she surprised everybody by selecting García as the candidate. And then pretty much carried him to the runoff.

Back to the current race. It looks like Mayor Lightfoot’s internal polls show García is her biggest rival.

I say that because she launched an attack ad against him.

The ad rips García for taking campaign contributions from Sam Bankman-Fried—aka the Crypto Kid.

Bankman-Fried’s the 30-year-old wunderkind who convinced hundreds of fabulously wealthy people to throw millions and millions of dollars his way. He wound up allegedly spending money intended for one company, FTX, on another company, Alameda Research. Both companies went belly up, and he’s now facing federal corruption charges that could send him to prison.

So, yes, I suppose it’s fair game for Lightfoot to attack Garcia for taking donations from the Crypto Kid. On the other hand . . .

Lightfoot has her own connections to Bankman-Fried. Back in May, she was gushing over a promise by FTX to offer money and financial literacy training to low-income Chicagoans. 

Yes, she and her advisors thought it was a good idea to have a con man teach lessons of the marketplace to our citizens. Clearly, Elizabeth Holmes was unavailable for the job.

That program fell apart in the wake of FTX’s demise. If you want to know more about it, read this exposé by Manny Ramos or listen to our conversation on my podcast.

What’s worse—taking campaign contributions from Bankman-Fried or asking him to teach financial literacy to our citizens?

Eventually, dear voters, you get to decide.

The Latest from the Ben Joravsky Show

Read More

Trade in an empty bottle of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce on January 22, and receive a free 1/4 chicken at Nando’s

Nando’s believes that hot sauce and chicken go together like . . . well, like hot sauce and chicken. Just try to name a more iconic duo. We’ll wait. 

In fact, Nando’s loves this perfect pair so much that they’re turning up the heat this National Hot Sauce Day and celebrating them both—and they’re inviting you to join in on the fun.

On January 22, 2023, you can trade in an empty bottle of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce at any Nando’s restaurant across Chicagoland and receive a free quarter chicken for dine-in or carryout (limit one per guest while supplies last).

Available in five delicious varieties—Lemon & Herb, Garlic, Medium, Hot, & XX Hot—Nando’s’ PERi-PERi sauce can be purchased at any Nando’s location, on their website, or at major retailers, including Mariano’s, Whole Foods Market, Walmart, Target, Meijer, Pete’s Fresh Market, The Fresh Market, and Fresh Farms. 

Beloved by spicy food fans around the world, peri-peri sauce is believed to have been invented by Portuguese explorers in 15th-century Mozambique, who combined crushed African bird’s eye chili peppers with aromatic garlic and lemon, as well as flavorful European ingredients, including paprika, bay leaf, and red wine vinegar. 

While Nando’s customers might know PERi-PERi sauce best as a marinade and condiment for Nando’s delectable flame-grilled chicken, there are practically endless ways to enjoy it. Baste your beef, shrimp, or fish; drizzle it over eggs, roasted veggies, or mac & cheese; slather it over sandwiches, burgers, and hot dogs; add it to a party dip or game-day wings, or invent a new flavor-packed dish of your own. (Check out Nando’s website for more mouthwatering recipe ideas.) They’re made without artificial preservatives, artificial colors, or artificial flavors, and since they’re naturally gluten-free, certified kosher, and suitable for vegetarians, everyone can dig in and feel the heat.

Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce starts with African bird’s eye chili peppers sourced from their network of 1,400 local farmers located across southern Africa, whom they empower through providing access to funds, farming equipment, and seedlings as well as commitments to buy peppers at prices predetermined before the start of growing season. 

African bird’s eye chilis aren’t just flavorful and spicy—they’re healthy too. They’re loaded with capsaicin, which provides the heat factor and has been associated with many health benefits including boosting metabolism and energy, reducing inflammation, aiding digestion, and more. Experts also claim it helps reduce appetite, which may be true, though it hasn’t lessened our cravings for PERi-PERi sauce. 

So, choose your favorite variety of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce or try all five, and join Nando’s National Hot Sauce Day celebration on January 22. Whether you’re already a spice lover, or trying PERi-PERi sauce for the first time, there’s always plenty of room at Nando’s table for you.

For more information about National Hot Sauce Day at Nando’s and to find out where you can purchase a bottle of Nando’s PERi-PERi sauce near you, visit nandosperiperi.com.

Read More

Since 2004 Plastic Crimewave (aka Steve Krakow) has used the Secret History of Chicago Music to shine a light on worthy artists with Chicago ties who’ve been forgotten, underrated, or never noticed in the first place.

“I’m the mother and the grandmother of the blues,” Johnnie Mae Dunson declared in a 2005 interview with the Chicago Tribune, and I won’t argue. “When I first started playing in Chicago, in the ’40s, people said ugly things about a woman who plays the blues,” she recalled. “They said, ‘She must not be a woman if she plays the drums.’ They’d call me names. If they hit on me and I wouldn’t respond, they said I must be a lesbian.”

There’s nobody else in music history quite like Dunson, a no-nonsense drummer and singer who also wrote hundreds upon hundreds of songs. Women aren’t just rare as blues drummers; they often get short shrift in the genre across the board. Chicago blues scholar Dick Shurman called Dunson “one of the few ‘gutbucket’ blues women,” and pianist Jon Weber, who’s played with her, described her as “a walking history book, a real important person who, unfortunately, has been somewhat neglected.” 

Dunson was a vivid, unvarnished talent, raw and prolific and utterly uncompromising. She deserves to be more widely remembered, and that’s what the Secret History of Chicago Music is all about. 

Dunson was born Johnnie Mae Hudson near Bessemer, Alabama, in 1921. At age two she contracted rheumatic fever, which weakened her heart. “I was a miracle child,” she told Neal Pollack for a 1998 Reader story. “I been living on death row all my life.” 

“When I was 10 years old, I heard the doctors tell my mama, ‘She won’t live to be 14 years old.’ So my mama got a group of people to come to our house and they prayed for me,” Dunson explained to the Tribune. “And I believe at that time God gifted me with the music I have because He knew I wouldn’t be able to do any other kind of work.” 

Dunson left school at age ten due to her heart condition. She’d been singing gospel as long as she could remember, but she also soaked up the blues of Bessie Smith, Memphis Minnie, and Ma Rainey, which her mother liked to play on the Victrola. As she grew stronger in her teens, her singing style evolved into something rougher and grimier. 

Dunson’s mother liked fresh spring water, and when Dunson and her sister went to fetch it, Dunson would thump on the washtub they were carrying. She’d give her sister half her lunch to let her do it. “In that way,” Dunson told Pollack, “I am a self-taught drummer.”

In 1943, encouraged by visiting churchwomen from the Windy City who’d heard her sing, Dunson moved to Chicago. Back in Alabama, she’d taught herself how to treat hair, and to make money she pressed her west-side kitchen into service as a salon. Within a year she was also hanging out at the famed market on Maxwell Street, performing however she could. She remembers taking over the drum kit of veteran bluesman Eddie “Porkchop” Hines. “He had this little set down there, and he looked so tired,” she told Pollack. “He said, ‘Girl, you gonna mess up my drums.’ Then I played, and he told me to never stop.” 

Dunson started a hard-gigging trio named after Globetrotters Lounge on the west side, which often played clubs along Madison Street. For nearly 30 years, she played steadily on the south and west sides, in any combo she could. She played in the band of guitarist and harmonica player Jimmy Reed, and they became friends—she wrote songs for him and even managed him for a spell. Her rough, powerful voice and fierce drumming made a big impression everywhere she went.

“She could hold her own with anybody—nobody gave Johnnie Mae a hard time,” harmonica ace Charlie Musselwhite told the Tribune. He crossed paths frequently with Dunson when he lived in Chicago in the 60s. “People just looked at her, and they would think, ‘This is somebody I’m not going to mess with.’”

Dunson was no less formidable as a songwriter. She was known for carrying around a massive notebook of her compositions, and in her late 70s she claimed she could still write 25 songs in a day if left alone to do it. She said she’d written “Evil” for Muddy Waters (no relation to the even more famous Howlin’ Wolf song), and though BMI lists Waters as its author, the blues business famously suffers from more than its share of attribution issues. The many songs she wrote for Reed over the years include “I Wanna Be Loved,” “I’m Going Upside Your Head,” and “Life Won’t Last Me Long.” 

Dunson’s own recordings from this era are much thinner on the ground, unfortunately. She put out a single on Checker Records in 1965, “You’re Going Out That Door,” which is now next to impossible to find. In 1972 she and Reed released a couple 45s as a duo for the short-lived Magic label. Within a year or so, though, Dunson had all but vanished from the scene, and by the time Reed died in 1976 she’d withdrawn from performance completely.

The music business had never provided Dunson with much of a living anyhow—she usually didn’t control her copyrights, and she didn’t get much in the way of royalties when other artists recorded her songs. In the 60s and 70s she made money buying buildings to fix up, sometimes working demolition jobs—she could take down an interior wall by herself with a sledgehammer. At some point after that she ran a Madison Street diner, but I can’t find any details.

In 1992 bluesman Jimmie Lee Robinson, who’d retired from his job as a security guard, tracked Dunson down. By then Dunson’s home was in dire condition, and her health had declined steeply. She’d been in a wheelchair since ’88, and she relied on other people to bring her groceries. At first she was distrustful of him—she was holding a grudge because she’d heard he’d insulted Jimmy Reed, and he had to persuade her she’d been misinformed. But eventually they became friends and began playing music together in her backyard. 

Dunson’s ride canceled on her, and she arrived so late (having finally charmed a cabbie into driving her for free) that no one expected her to show. She arrived in black slacks and a black wig, carrying a gold sequined cane—but she hadn’t been able to get out to buy new shoes, so she was wearing house slippers. “As soon as she started singing, a lot of older black women started coming up to her and sticking dollar bills into her hand,” photographer and filmmaker James Fraher told Pollack for his Reader story. Fraher, also a member of the Maxwell Street coalition, had been making a documentary about Robinson. “She just knocked people out. It turned into a party on the street.”

Dunson later mentioned that the benefit jam was the first time she’d left her property in ten years. Her husband Andy Smith had died there in 1991, and she planned to do the same. Sadly, within weeks the city condemned her house and boarded it up with her things still inside—Pollack listed just some of them, including an antique icebox, a pump organ, two sets of drums, a Coca-Cola vending machine from the 1950s, and original copies of more than 600 of her songs. 

Fortunately Dunson was supported by her late husband’s military pension, and fellow blues vocalist Katherine Davis took her in temporarily. She’d seen Dunson at a second Maxwell Street benefit gig and started bringing her food and listening to her sing her songs, eventually offering her a room in her apartment.

Dunson’s house wasn’t saved, and by the time of the 2005 Tribune story, she was living in a small apartment of her own on the north side. She made several appearances at the Chicago Blues Festival after the release of Big Boss Lady, but on October 4, 2007, she died at age 86 at Northwestern Memorial Hospital of complications from intestinal issues.

At her first Maxwell Street appearance in 1998, Pollack quoted her speaking from the stage. “I’m gonna holler loud,” Dunson said, delivering a boast that makes a fitting epitaph for a tough, fearless blueswoman who survived for decades in a scene made for men. “You see, I’m a she-wolf, and I prowl all night long. . . . Ain’t gonna hang my head and cry.”

Read More

Since 2004 Plastic Crimewave (aka Steve Krakow) has used the Secret History of Chicago Music to shine a light on worthy artists with Chicago ties who’ve been forgotten, underrated, or never noticed in the first place.

“I’m the mother and the grandmother of the blues,” Johnnie Mae Dunson declared in a 2005 interview with the Chicago Tribune, and I won’t argue. “When I first started playing in Chicago, in the ’40s, people said ugly things about a woman who plays the blues,” she recalled. “They said, ‘She must not be a woman if she plays the drums.’ They’d call me names. If they hit on me and I wouldn’t respond, they said I must be a lesbian.”

There’s nobody else in music history quite like Dunson, a no-nonsense drummer and singer who also wrote hundreds upon hundreds of songs. Women aren’t just rare as blues drummers; they often get short shrift in the genre across the board. Chicago blues scholar Dick Shurman called Dunson “one of the few ‘gutbucket’ blues women,” and pianist Jon Weber, who’s played with her, described her as “a walking history book, a real important person who, unfortunately, has been somewhat neglected.” 

Dunson was a vivid, unvarnished talent, raw and prolific and utterly uncompromising. She deserves to be more widely remembered, and that’s what the Secret History of Chicago Music is all about. 

Dunson was born Johnnie Mae Hudson near Bessemer, Alabama, in 1921. At age two she contracted rheumatic fever, which weakened her heart. “I was a miracle child,” she told Neal Pollack for a 1998 Reader story. “I been living on death row all my life.” 

“When I was 10 years old, I heard the doctors tell my mama, ‘She won’t live to be 14 years old.’ So my mama got a group of people to come to our house and they prayed for me,” Dunson explained to the Tribune. “And I believe at that time God gifted me with the music I have because He knew I wouldn’t be able to do any other kind of work.” 

Dunson left school at age ten due to her heart condition. She’d been singing gospel as long as she could remember, but she also soaked up the blues of Bessie Smith, Memphis Minnie, and Ma Rainey, which her mother liked to play on the Victrola. As she grew stronger in her teens, her singing style evolved into something rougher and grimier. 

Dunson’s mother liked fresh spring water, and when Dunson and her sister went to fetch it, Dunson would thump on the washtub they were carrying. She’d give her sister half her lunch to let her do it. “In that way,” Dunson told Pollack, “I am a self-taught drummer.”

In 1943, encouraged by visiting churchwomen from the Windy City who’d heard her sing, Dunson moved to Chicago. Back in Alabama, she’d taught herself how to treat hair, and to make money she pressed her west-side kitchen into service as a salon. Within a year she was also hanging out at the famed market on Maxwell Street, performing however she could. She remembers taking over the drum kit of veteran bluesman Eddie “Porkchop” Hines. “He had this little set down there, and he looked so tired,” she told Pollack. “He said, ‘Girl, you gonna mess up my drums.’ Then I played, and he told me to never stop.” 

Dunson started a hard-gigging trio named after Globetrotters Lounge on the west side, which often played clubs along Madison Street. For nearly 30 years, she played steadily on the south and west sides, in any combo she could. She played in the band of guitarist and harmonica player Jimmy Reed, and they became friends—she wrote songs for him and even managed him for a spell. Her rough, powerful voice and fierce drumming made a big impression everywhere she went.

“She could hold her own with anybody—nobody gave Johnnie Mae a hard time,” harmonica ace Charlie Musselwhite told the Tribune. He crossed paths frequently with Dunson when he lived in Chicago in the 60s. “People just looked at her, and they would think, ‘This is somebody I’m not going to mess with.’”

Dunson was no less formidable as a songwriter. She was known for carrying around a massive notebook of her compositions, and in her late 70s she claimed she could still write 25 songs in a day if left alone to do it. She said she’d written “Evil” for Muddy Waters (no relation to the even more famous Howlin’ Wolf song), and though BMI lists Waters as its author, the blues business famously suffers from more than its share of attribution issues. The many songs she wrote for Reed over the years include “I Wanna Be Loved,” “I’m Going Upside Your Head,” and “Life Won’t Last Me Long.” 

Dunson’s own recordings from this era are much thinner on the ground, unfortunately. She put out a single on Checker Records in 1965, “You’re Going Out That Door,” which is now next to impossible to find. In 1972 she and Reed released a couple 45s as a duo for the short-lived Magic label. Within a year or so, though, Dunson had all but vanished from the scene, and by the time Reed died in 1976 she’d withdrawn from performance completely.

The music business had never provided Dunson with much of a living anyhow—she usually didn’t control her copyrights, and she didn’t get much in the way of royalties when other artists recorded her songs. In the 60s and 70s she made money buying buildings to fix up, sometimes working demolition jobs—she could take down an interior wall by herself with a sledgehammer. At some point after that she ran a Madison Street diner, but I can’t find any details.

In 1992 bluesman Jimmie Lee Robinson, who’d retired from his job as a security guard, tracked Dunson down. By then Dunson’s home was in dire condition, and her health had declined steeply. She’d been in a wheelchair since ’88, and she relied on other people to bring her groceries. At first she was distrustful of him—she was holding a grudge because she’d heard he’d insulted Jimmy Reed, and he had to persuade her she’d been misinformed. But eventually they became friends and began playing music together in her backyard. 

Dunson’s ride canceled on her, and she arrived so late (having finally charmed a cabbie into driving her for free) that no one expected her to show. She arrived in black slacks and a black wig, carrying a gold sequined cane—but she hadn’t been able to get out to buy new shoes, so she was wearing house slippers. “As soon as she started singing, a lot of older black women started coming up to her and sticking dollar bills into her hand,” photographer and filmmaker James Fraher told Pollack for his Reader story. Fraher, also a member of the Maxwell Street coalition, had been making a documentary about Robinson. “She just knocked people out. It turned into a party on the street.”

Dunson later mentioned that the benefit jam was the first time she’d left her property in ten years. Her husband Andy Smith had died there in 1991, and she planned to do the same. Sadly, within weeks the city condemned her house and boarded it up with her things still inside—Pollack listed just some of them, including an antique icebox, a pump organ, two sets of drums, a Coca-Cola vending machine from the 1950s, and original copies of more than 600 of her songs. 

Fortunately Dunson was supported by her late husband’s military pension, and fellow blues vocalist Katherine Davis took her in temporarily. She’d seen Dunson at a second Maxwell Street benefit gig and started bringing her food and listening to her sing her songs, eventually offering her a room in her apartment.

Dunson’s house wasn’t saved, and by the time of the 2005 Tribune story, she was living in a small apartment of her own on the north side. She made several appearances at the Chicago Blues Festival after the release of Big Boss Lady, but on October 4, 2007, she died at age 86 at Northwestern Memorial Hospital of complications from intestinal issues.

At her first Maxwell Street appearance in 1998, Pollack quoted her speaking from the stage. “I’m gonna holler loud,” Dunson said, delivering a boast that makes a fitting epitaph for a tough, fearless blueswoman who survived for decades in a scene made for men. “You see, I’m a she-wolf, and I prowl all night long. . . . Ain’t gonna hang my head and cry.”

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