I was briefly acquainted with Booker during the early 80's. I actually moved to New Orleans in 1980 and fronted a (bad) blues band called "The Uptown Blues Organization. We were so bad that we were politely ignored, rather than panned, by the local music press. (This says a little about discretion in the media, which I fear has been, sadly, lost). But, I digress. Booker was a heroin addict. He died from complications due to a bad mixture of drugs. But, man, could this cat boogie! He HAD the blues, through and through. Once, our little combo scored a gig at The Rose Tattoo, across the street from Tipitina's on Napoleon St. in N.O. It was Jessie Hill's birthday party. The Nighthawks (fromD.C.) were playing at Tip's that night, and we got some of their overflow. Booker showed up and jumped on stage with us and tried to blow the saxophone! We thought that was funny then, but this little bio on Booker that you have clued me in to why. I had never before known that his first instrument was sax.
I have more Booker stories; you can e-mail me at TASHPI@yahoo.com