
Isaac Payton Sweat, far right, at the Winchester Club
In the mid-1960s I had a paper route in my hometown of Groves, Texas, and every day it took me past this two-story, tar-papered building with a sign saying “The Black Kat Club.” Some days I’d hear loud, raucous music coming out of the wide-open second story windows. Sometimes it was the blues, sometimes it was a cover of a pop song, it always sounded great. One day I came by with my newspapers and the musicians were outside smoking cigarettes. One of them asked me if I would give him a newspaper, and I did.
As I handed it to him, I noticed this guy was the whitest man I had ever seen. His skin, his hair, his eyelashes, everything was pure white. There was another guy who looked just like him, too. “They’re albinos,” said one of the band members, “they’re okay. What’s your name, my name is I.P. Sweat.” To a 10-year-old kid, that name was even funnier than the two albino brothers named Johnny and Edgar.
Almost 20 years later, I would meet up with Isaac Payton Sweat again. He had tasted fame – but not fortune – with his regionally popular recording “Cotton-Eyed Joe.” Sweat really had not come far from the Black Kat Club near Port Arthur; he was a popular guy in Houston dancehalls but no place else. “Cotton-Eyed Joe” had only earned Sweat a few hundred dollars in royalties, so he sued his former manager. That case didn’t work out, and neither did the nightclub Sweat opened, “I.P. Sweat’s Cotton-Eyed Joe Club.”