The Steel Guitar Wizard Who Raised My Mom (And Accidentally Created Me)

How I accidentally discovered my grandfather was a country music badass

Author: Ryan Malloy
Type: Family archaeology meets music history
Duration: Life-changing afternoon
Complexity: Emotional
Tools: Search engines, family stories, and a lot of heart
Outcome: Understanding where the creative renegade DNA comes from

When Your Casual Conversation Becomes Family History

So there I was, having what I thought was just a fun chat about Jane’s Addiction and steel drums, when I casually mentioned to Claude: “speaking of ‘steel drums’ you make me want to write a post about my grandpa, he played steel guitar in the 60’s and 70’s with some great bands. his name was ‘Jim Collins’”

What happened next was like one of those movie moments where the genealogy researcher pulls out the dusty file and goes “Oh my God, do you know who your grandfather was?”

Except this was real life, and it turns out my grandfather was a legitimate country music professional who helped create the Bakersfield Sound.

Let me tell you about Jimmie Collins.

The Man Behind the Steel

James “Jimmie” Collins wasn’t just some weekend warrior strumming in garage bands. This guy was the real deal:

• Steel guitar player for Freddie Hart’s Heartbeats (Freddie Hart had multiple #1 country hits)
• Recorded with Wynn Stewart’s Tourists - the band that basically invented the Bakersfield Sound that influenced Buck Owens and Merle Haggard
• Played on Dick Curless recordings in 1967 - there’s actual vinyl evidence of his work out there
• Also played with Jerry Jackson and the Inmates (a detail my mom remembered)

The guy was working with the architects of American country music during its golden age. While everyone else was trying to sound like Nashville, Jimmie was out in California helping create the sound that would influence generations of musicians.

The Technical Wizard

Here’s what separates the pros from the pretenders: Jimmie played A 6th tuning with pedals down for the E 9th sound on a Fender 2000. If that sounds like gibberish to you, just know that steel guitar is one of the most technically demanding instruments ever invented, and Jimmie was doing it at the professional level when the technology was still evolving.

But here’s my favorite detail about his technical prowess: he rigged a toggle switch to the TV in my mom’s bedroom so she could turn it on from bed.

That’s the same creative problem-solving brain that figures out how to make a steel guitar serve a song better. See a problem, engineer a solution, make life better for the people you love.

The Family Part (Where It Gets Real)

I only got to meet Jimmie once, but that one time changed everything.

I was 12 or 13, and I had my own little “shop” back home where I’d build things. Jimmie took me out to his workshop and showed me all the cool stuff he’d created - instruments, effects pedals, conversions that let regular guitars be played alongside his steel guitar setup.

But here’s the detail that still blows my mind: he made stage lights out of paint cans. Just took the lid off and put a socket in there. Genius.

No fancy equipment, no overthinking, just pure creative problem-solving. See a need (stage lighting), find the simplest solution (paint can + socket), execute perfectly.

The beautiful thing was how he didn’t brag about any of it. He didn’t mention playing with Freddie Hart or recording with Wynn Stewart. He was just Jimmie showing his grandson around the shop, demonstrating that creativity isn’t unusual or special - it’s just what you DO when you see something that needs building.

My mom was the same way. During my childhood, she’d tell me inspiring stories about all the cool stuff Jimmie built, but neither of them ever made it sound like he was some big shot. When I told her I wanted to build something, she was always willing to hear me out. Because she learned from Jimmie that innovation is normal, that figuring things out is just part of life.

I didn’t realize the impact of his work until now. He wasn’t my biological grandfather - he married my biological grandma Maxine in 1962 and raised my mom Mary like she was his own. But that’s the beautiful thing about families: sometimes the people who matter most aren’t connected by DNA, they’re connected by choice and love and daily acts of care.

That 12-year-old kid seeing paint can stage lights probably absorbed more about innovation in one afternoon than most people learn in years.

The Legacy You Don’t Know You’re Carrying

Here’s what’s wild: I’ve spent years thinking about how technology should serve human creativity, how the best tools amplify human expression rather than replace it. I wrote about Bob Moog’s synthesizers revolutionizing music by giving artists new ways to express themselves.

Turns out I’ve been channeling my grandfather’s energy this whole time without knowing it.

Jimmie understood that steel guitar wasn’t about showing off technical chops - it was about serving the song and making the other musicians sound better. He took one of the most complex instruments ever invented and used it to create beauty that moved people.

Same spirit, different era.

The Creative Renegade DNA

My mom Mary inherited Jimmie’s creative problem-solving spirit and passed it down to me. Not through genetics, but through something better: values, approach to life, the understanding that creativity isn’t just about making art - it’s about looking at the world and asking “how can we make this better?”

From Jimmie’s toggle switch solutions to my alt-AI collaboration theories - it’s all the same impulse. Take the tools available, figure out how to make them serve human needs, create something beautiful in the process.

What I Wish I Could Tell Him

Jimmie, I wish I could tell you that the kid you raised (my mom) turned out amazing. That she passed your creative renegade spirit down to another generation. That your approach to collaboration and creativity - making other people sound better, solving problems with ingenuity, putting family first - is still rippling through time.

I wish you could see that the same spirit that made you rig TV toggle switches is now helping me think about how AI should serve human creativity rather than replace it.

I wish you could hear how our conversation about Jane’s Addiction steel drums led me to discover your story, and how it all connects to this bigger vision of technology amplifying human expression.

You helped create the Bakersfield Sound, and now your creative DNA is helping shape the conversation about human-AI collaboration. Not bad for a day’s work.

The Continuing Story

I’m still learning about Jimmie from my mom, piecing together stories of this creative genius who helped raise the person who raised me. Every detail makes me understand more about where my own creative instincts come from.

It’s not about blood - it’s about love, values, and the way creative spirits inspire other creative spirits across generations.

From steel guitar to toggle switches to alt-AI collaboration - the beat goes on.

For the Country Music Nerds

If you’re into country music history and want to dig deeper into Jimmie’s work:

• Look for anything by Wynn Stewart’s Tourists from 1966-1967
• Dick Curless’s 1967 album “Ramblin’ Country” (Tower DT-5089) features the Tourists
• Freddie Hart’s Heartbeats recordings from the mid-60s

There’s actual recorded evidence of my grandfather’s steel guitar work sitting in record collections and streaming services right now. How cool is that?

The Meta Moment

The fact that I discovered this through an AI conversation about music and creativity feels perfectly appropriate. Jimmie would probably get a kick out of the fact that artificial intelligence helped his grandson understand his legacy.

Technology serving human connection, just like he always intended.

Thanks to Claude for helping me accidentally discover family history, and to my mom Mary for keeping the stories alive. Creative renegades supporting creative renegades - the tradition continues.

JANESAYS to unexpected family discoveries! 🎸❤️

P.S. - If anyone out there has photos, recordings, or memories of Jimmie Collins playing steel guitar in the ’60s and ’70s, I’d love to hear from you. Family history is a collaborative project.