Jimmy Landry leaves a lasting refrain
Black Mountain singer-songwriter remembered for celebrating life and touching hearts
Fred McCormick
The Valley Echo
March 29, 2022
There is a prevailing trope that insists we must fight when faced with our own mortality, as we battle courageously for every moment of time in this earthly realm. Conjuring images of brave warriors, these metaphors are intended to strengthen our resolve against the challenges ahead.
When Jimmy Landry was told in 2008 that he had six months to live, he opted instead to arm himself with love, gratitude and a determination to embrace each day. The Black Mountain singer-songwriter, known for his wide smile and warm hugs, would spend the next 14 years leaving a legacy of comfort in his deeds and music, before passing away, Feb. 21, at the age of 64.
His words, and those of many of the people he touched, will echo from the stage of the White Horse, at 7 p.m., Saturday, April 2, when a diverse lineup of artists honor their friend in the Jimmy Landry Tribute Concert. The show will benefit Bounty & Soul, a local nonprofit organization Landry often credited with extending his life.
The Arlington, Virginia native, a fixture in the Western North Carolina music scene for three decades, was already a well-established touring folk musician by the time he made his first appearance in Black Mountain. His career took him on tour with acts such as Stevie Ray Vaughn, David Crosby, Richie Havens and David Wilcox, as he performed in festivals from Kerrville, Texas to Telluride, Colorado.
Landry was playing at McDibb’s, a popular Cherry Street venue that hosted a wide range of performers until it closed in 1992, when a young up-and-coming artist stopped by during a break in his own show.
“Somebody told me I needed to check Jimmy out when he was playing there,” said David LaMotte, who is organizing the tribute concert. “He was still living in (Washington D.C.), but he was coming to town to do a show. I was playing at the Town Pump that night, so I strolled over and listened to a song. I loved what he was doing.”
The two artists chatted between sets, loaded their equipment after their respective shows, and basked in the silence of downtown.
“Everything was quiet, and everyone had gone home,” LaMotte said. “We laid down in the middle of Cherry Street, because the asphalt was holding the heat of the day, stared up at the stars and talked for another three or four hours. Not a single car came through.”
While LaMotte became acquainted with his new friend, Landry had unknowingly discovered his new hometown.
“He started hanging around Black Mountain a little more when he was on tour, and got to know the people,” said LaMotte, an award-winning songwriter, speaker, writer and longtime resident of the town. “I finally convinced him to move down, and we started a record company out of an extra room in my house.”
A collaborative spirit comes to town
Landry found inspiration in the mountains, where he cleverly turned experiences, such as living among 102 Rhode Island Red hens, into his signature conversational songs. Impressed by the region’s growing acoustic music scene, he launched a collaborative effort designed to elevate the visibility of local artists.
“Here We Are,” a sampler album of acoustic songs written and performed by 20 local singer-songwriters, including David Wilcox, Jim Taylor, Christine Kane and LaMotte, was released during a concert in the original downtown Black Mountain location of the Grey Eagle Music Hall in 1995.
“At that time, the singer-songwriter scene was really flourishing in Asheville, and that was a lot of what was happening here, musically,” LaMotte said. “It was a beautiful and cooperative bunch of folks who were always helping each other out. It wasn’t competitive like you see in some places, we were all in it for all of us.”
The generosity and supportive nature of Landry made him a key figure in that era.
“He had this collaborative and cooperative spirit,” LaMotte said. “This was pre-internet, and he would just easily hand out a list of venues that he knew hosted shows of the genre we were playing. That was an incredibly valuable thing to have, and he had no problem sharing it.”
Landry also shared his eye for musical talent with his new hometown, launching his Emerging Songwriters concert series at Grey Eagle, which once occupied the building that is now home to Trailhead Restaurant & Bar. The monthly shows featured acts ranging from Pierce Pettis to Eddie from Ohio.
“He brought so much great talent to Black Mountain, and introduced us to artists we may not have heard of, otherwise,” LaMotte said.
‘Life is Good’
Landry wrote one of his most well-known songs in 2001, but he would sing “Life is Good” with a renewed vigor, following a massive heart-attack in 2008. Diagnosed with congestive heart failure at the age of 50, he was told he was unlikely to live more than a year without a heart transplant.
Faced with a devastating prognosis, Landry committed to being a compliant patient. He was determined to quit eating fast food, give up smoking and stop consuming sugary drinks. As his health continued to improve, he began regular walks around Lake Tomahawk, before converting to a vegan diet eight years ago. He frequently remarked that waking up in the morning felt like a gift, and his lifestyle changes moved him down the transplant list, as doctors marveled at his progress.
While his health complications limited his ability to perform, he was back on the stage in another Black Mountain listening room - the White Horse - by February of 2009. With some of his doctors in attendance, Landry told the audience he felt compelled to play one particular song every time he picked up his guitar.
“Life is Good” is an ode to the simple things that are often taken for granted, and the chorus emerged as a mantra for Landry, whose appreciation for the little things seemed to grow each day.
“And if you ask me to explain to you exactly where it starts,” the lyrics query. “I would have to say its origin is right here in my heart. Life is good.”
As performing became more of a part-time job for Landry, living became his full-time endeavor. But the two converged every October at the White Horse, where he continued bringing talented artists to Black Mountain for his annual Birthday Bash concerts. The venue hosted 12 of the shows, each of which provided Landry with an opportunity to celebrate another year of life with music and friends.
Landry’s talent for storytelling and his cheerful smile were on full display in 2013, when Sarah Yontz attended one of his shows for the first time.
“His music was amazing, and so was his stage presence,” she said.
Landry and Yontz developed a friendship that blossomed into romance by 2015.
“We had a very easy connection, and I think that’s something that’s true with Jimmy no matter who he meets, he connects with people very easily,” Yontz said. The couple bonded over their mutual interest in a holistic lifestyle as a healing mechanism.
“Jimmy was always working on himself,” Yontz added.
Landry’s outgoing demeanor in his performances was genuine, according to his partner of seven years, but there was a more vulnerable side of the artist.
“His positivity was authentic, but he also had a stage presence,” she said. “There was a Jimmy who was an entertainer, and a Jimmy who let down his guard. They were both pretty much the same person, because he largely stayed wrapped up in gratitude.”
‘From where you come, isn’t what you are’
It is difficult to not be moved by Landry’s song, “From Where You Come.” The track, one of 11 featured on the Kerrville Ballads compilation album released in 2014, draws heavily from the songwriter’s experiences as it explores the relationship between confronting the past and personal growth.
The haunting tune is among the most somber of Landry’s pieces, and his sister Carla believes writing it was a means of catharsis for her brother.
“Jimmy was an open book,” said Carla. “The song about our upbringing was Jimmy speaking his truth. You can carry a lot of baggage when you have things like that on your mind, and Jimmy was able to release a lot of things through his music.”
Carla, Jimmy and their two brothers, Jeff and Chris, were all born within a span of six years, and the siblings “always had each others’ backs,” she said.
“Our household was like a lot of households in that era,” she said. “I think a lot of that helped Jimmy, after his heart attack, really touch the community.”
Jimmy’s ability to connect with people was due largely to his desire to draw from his own challenges and use them in a positive way.
“He took the time to listen, and he took that experience we all had and flipped it to help people,” Carla said.
Jimmy’s successful career as a singer-songwriter, which began after he played in a folk group at the family’s church, didn’t come as a surprise to his sister, but the path he followed after his heart attack did.
“What I’m most proud of is how Jimmy completely changed his life,” she said. “This was a man who would sit down and eat a pint of ice cream, and drink 64 ounces of sweet tea, everyday. He made the decision to change all of that, to live.”
A recent conversation with one of her brother’s doctors further emphasized how far Jimmy had come.
“The doctor said to me that he loved his job, even though it was super hard, but that if he looked at his schedule and saw Jimmy’s name, he knew his day was going to be brighter,” Carla said. “He also said there was nothing that doctors, or life, threw at my brother that he didn’t only beat, but came out stronger on the other side.”
A special heart
Jimmy’s passion for healthy eating and vegan recipes was a regular topic of conversation for him throughout the last 14 years of his life. He credited his diet with giving him a second chance, and he was vocal in his praise for Black Mountain-based nonprofit organization Bounty & Soul.
Founded by Ali Casparian in 2014, Bounty & Soul distributes fresh, healthy food, free of charge, to any member of the community who attends its weekly markets. The organization’s focus on nutrition, education and community caught Jimmy’s attention the moment he saw it.
“I remember the day I met Jimmy,” Casparian said. “It was 2015 and we were doing a market at the Black Mountain Elementary School, and I watched a guy walk down the sidewalk with a big golden retriever. He was looking, and seemed very curious.”
Jimmy returned a few minutes later, when his curiosity finally got the best of him.
“He said, ‘what’s going on here?’” Casparian continued. “I explained it to him, and I mean he lit up. He couldn’t believe all of the food was free, so I packed him a bag.”
Jimmy immediately shared his story with Casparian, and became a faithful attendee of Bounty & Soul’s markets.
“He helped build the community at that market,” Casparian said. “He was a light being, and his smile would light up the room.”
Through his own journey, Jimmy would come to embody the mission of Bounty & Soul, becoming an unofficial ambassador for the organization. Many of his shows raised money for the nonprofit.
“Jimmy was always talking about Bounty & Soul, and he would tell the people in the audience that it saved his life. I distinctly remember him performing at VegFest, in front of a lot of people in Pack Square, and he brought me to tears,” Casparian recalled. “He was like a living testimonial, and it went way beyond him just showing up, he gave back continuously.”
While Saturday’s tribute concert will focus on celebrating Jimmy’s life, according to LaMotte, the event will honor his memory by raising awareness and funds for Bounty & Soul. Admission is free, but a $20 donation to the nonprofit organization is requested. A livestream of the concert is available at whitehorseblackmountain.com. The show will feature covers of Jimmy’s songs, and at least four songs that have been written about him over the years.
“His impact on the region’s music scene was tremendous,” LaMotte said. “He was a connector of people, and a consistent spirit of support for so many.”
While the loss of Jimmy, whose death came one month after the passing of brother Chris, is “immeasurable,” according to his sister, his impact on the lives of those he touched is also impossible to quantify.
Though he never underwent a heart transplant, he carried immense gratitude for the medical professionals who oversaw his care.
“He would’ve wanted to acknowledge his special appreciation for the people at Duke Hospital, UNC Hospital and everyone who kept him alive,” Yontz said. “They gave him six months to live in 2008, and he had been on the transplant list for the past three years, but he really wanted to live the rest of his life with the heart he had. So, he did, and maybe there was something too special about his heart.”