Jim Morrison’s On-Stage Arrest

A listener note, this episode contains references to drug use and addiction.

It may not be suitable for all audiences.

It's the evening of December 9th, 1967, at New Haven Arena in Connecticut.

Backstage, a police officer grumbles as he lumbers down a seemingly endless corridor.

He's already put in a long day shift on the streets of New Haven.

Now he's moonlighting as a security guard at a rock concert.

Keeping an eye on boisterous teenagers isn't his idea of a good time.

But with payments to keep up on his new car, he has little choice but to work the grueling hours.

He continues down the corridor, and as he passes by a bathroom, the officer hears suspicious laughter from behind the door.

He decides to investigate.

When he opens it, a girl and a boy fly apart.

The girl looks to be in her late teens.

Her hair and clothes are ruffled from the makeout session he knows he just interrupted.

The boy looks a little older, mid-20s perhaps.

He's dressed in all black clothes and has shoulder-length dark hair.

The officer sneers at this long-haired kid who looks like he's never done a proper day of work in his life.

Then he barks at the couple to get out.

He says if he catches them backstage again, he'll throw them out of the arena.

But the long-haired kid fixes the officer with an angry glare and says, eat it.

Shocked by the kid's attitude, the officer unbuckles the can of mace from his belt and says this is their last chance to leave.

But the long-haired kid doesn't move.

He mimics the officer and replies, last chance to eat it.

Furious, the officer squirts the mace in the face of the kid who falls to the floor, rubbing at his burning eyes.

The officer is now pretty sure this kid won't cause any more trouble tonight.

But he's startled when three more young men rush in, all dressed like the long-haired kid he just maced.

The officer tells the young man to back away, and he has the situation under control.

But one of them steps forward and shouts incredulously that he just maced Jim Morrison, the lead singer of The Doors.

As a result of Jim Morrison's backstage confrontation with the off-duty police officer, The Doors concert gets off to a late start.

By the time he takes the stage, Jim has been stewing for over an hour.

And almost as soon as the concert begins, he angrily tells the audience what happened, hurling expletives and insults.

Hearing this, the police on site grow concerned that Jim intends to incite a riot.

So they turn on the auditorium lights, haul him off stage, and take him down to the station to read him his rights.

Because of this New Haven incident, as this event will come to be known, Jim Morrison is accused of inciting a riot, indecency and public obscenity.

Though these charges are eventually dropped, the arrest has a monumental impact on Jim's career.

The incident garners headlines and boosts Jim's status as a cultural icon who isn't afraid to push the boundaries of acceptable behavior, a controversial reputation Jim earned in part due to his arrest on stage on December 9, 1967.

From Noiser and Airship, I'm Lindsay Graham, and this is History Daily.

History is made every day.

On this podcast, every day, we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is December 9th, 1967, Jim Morrison's on-stage arrest.

It's August 10th, 1966, at the Whisky a Go Go nightclub in West Hollywood, California, more than one year before Jim Morrison is hauled off stage in New Haven, Connecticut.

Musician Ray Manzarek hunches over his keyboard as his band, The Doors, come to the end of their set.

Ray plays along with guitarist Robbie Krieger and drummer John Densmore, while vocalist Jim Morrison sings the final few lines.

Then with a final flourish of crashing notes and cymbals, the show is over.

Ray exhales and stretches.

He's glad his work for the night is done, and now they can spend the rest of the evening partying with his bandmates.

One year ago, Ray met Jim, a fellow student of the UCLA film school.

The two men instantly bonded over their shared love of rock and roll.

Ray invited Jim to join his band, called Rick and the Ravens, which played occasional gigs and scruffy nightclubs.

Jim accepted, but he suggested a name change.

His choice was The Doors, a reference to Aldous Huxley's book, The Doors of Perception, which describes the effects of psychedelic drugs.

Soon the newly renamed Doors picked up regular gigs, initially at a sleazy nightclub called London Fog, and then later at the Whisky a Go Go on Sunset Boulevard.

Tonight, Ray steps down from the stage as the crowd continues dancing to taped rock music glaring over the PA.

On his way to the bar, Ray spots a man near the edge of the dance floor who seems out of place.

He's older than the club's usual crowd, looks to be in his mid thirties, and he's trying to catch Ray's attention.

Ray tries to avoid eye contact.

He's too exhausted to deal with a fan.

Performing on stage takes all his concentration.

He plays two keyboards simultaneously, using a bass keyboard with his left hand and playing melodies on a combo organ with his right.

All Ray wants to do right now is relax and grab a beer.

But before he can make it to the bar, the older man steps in his way.

Ray sighs and shakes the man's proffered hand.

But Ray then perks up when the man introduces himself as Jack Holzman, the president of Electra Records.

Jack tells Ray that he's heard good things about the doors and the show he just saw definitely lived up to the hype.

Ray's eyes light up and soon Jim slides up next to Ray and hands him a beer and a cigarette.

Ray makes introductions and Jack announces that he wants to sign the doors to a record deal.

Right there, Ray and Jim high five.

This is the big break they've been waiting for.

They tell Jack they'd be delighted.

11 days later, with the paperwork signed and sealed, the doors are back on stage at the Whiskey-A-Go-Go.

Ray is doubling up on two keyboards as usual.

Robbie and John play their instruments with giddy enthusiasm, and Jim is working the audience to perfection.

All four members of the band are playing with gusto, excited that they finally have the backing of a record label.

That night, when the band reaches the midpoint of their 11-minute song, The End, Jim begins a spoken word section.

It's often improvised, and tonight Jim launches into a retelling of the Greek myth of Oedipus.

Ray shakes his head, chuckling.

He knows Jim fancies himself a poet of some sort, and that he read the Greeks in college.

But tonight, Jim's story of Oedipus killing his father and marrying his mother is told in graphic and explicit detail with plenty of foul language.

Even Ray, who's used to Jim's cursing, is shocked.

But he grins when he sees the reaction of the audience, who are in equal parts amused and offended.

Ray knows the audience will never forget this performance.

When the set finishes, Ray is again approached by an older man as he steps off stage.

But this time, it's the frowning owner of the Whiskey-A-Go-Go.

He screams at Ray, telling him that Jim's antics on stage are unacceptable.

The doors are not welcome back, he tells them.

But appearing out of nowhere, Jim places himself suddenly between Ray and the owner and puts a hand on the owner's shoulder.

Jim calmly tells him it makes no difference, because tomorrow the doors are going to Sunset Sound Studios to start recording their first album for Elektra Records.

They don't need Whiskey-A-Go-Go anymore.

And soon, Ray, Jim and the rest of the man leave the club fired, but with a promising future ahead.

Still, this won't be the last time Jim's tendency to veer into the obscene and push boundaries will get Jim and his bandmates in trouble.

As the doors release their first records and hit the national charts, Jim's antics will escalate and reach a fever pitch on national television.

It's September 17th, 1967, in New York, three months before Jim Morrison's on-stage arrest.

A television producer for the Ed Sullivan Show knocks on the dressing room door.

It's only 15 minutes before the show goes on air, but he has an urgent message for the band he has booked for tonight, a new sensation called The Doors.

After recording their debut album, The Doors began a publicity drive to let America know there was a new rock band about to hit the charts.

Their first single, Break On Through, didn't do very well, but their second, Light My Fire, did.

It reached number one, sold over one million copies, and drove sales of their album to the top of the charts.

The Doors were soon booked for national television shows, including The Ed Sullivan Show, which in the past made names like Elvis Presley and The Beatles into superstars.

But the producer knows that won't happen for The Doors, not unless they behave themselves.

He's heard they have a reputation, and has been told they sometimes trash equipment and that their vocalist is known for swearing.

So the producer walks into The Doors dressing room and the four members of the band look up.

The producer nervously clears his throat and tells the band that they were great in rehearsal, but he needs them to change a lyric in one of their songs.

Ray Manzarek asks which line the producer didn't like.

The producer says, it's a lyric from Light My Fire.

When Jim Morrison sings, girl, we can't get much higher.

The producer tries to explain his reasoning as Jim scoffs from the corner of the room.

The Ed Sullivan show is watched by families and the word higher has connotations of illegal drug use.

Jim interrupts saying, that's the point.

The producer is sweating.

Until Ray steps in and assures the producer they'll change the word higher to something more appropriate.

The producer nervously backed out of the room.

Thankful Ray prevented the discussion from escalating into a confrontation.

But when he closes the door, he hears derisive laughter from inside.

He worries that Jim, the only one who can control what goes into the microphone in his hand, will ignore his request.

An hour later, the producer watches from behind a curtain as Ed Sullivan introduces the doors to the audience of millions watching live at home.

Fans inside the studio cheer and scream, drowning out the opening chords of their new single, People Are Strange.

Despite his tense interaction with the band, the producer has to admit the doors are good.

Their style of music is quite different to the cleaner sound of Elvis or The Beatles, but the producer's foot taps along to the rhythm.

And at the song's conclusion, the band transitions into their number one single, Light My Fire.

The producer holds his breath as Jim approaches the troublesome lyric, but Jim doesn't sanitize or change it.

He sings every word, including higher.

The producer's stomach lurches.

He momentarily wonders if Jim simply forgot to change it.

But when he sees guitarist Robbie Krieger smirking at Jim, he's left with no doubt he was deliberate.

The producer grabs a headset and talks into the host's earpiece, telling him to cut to a commercial as soon as the song is over.

When the band finishes, Ed Sullivan turns away to speak into a camera and take the show to a break.

The doors are ushered off-set without a chance to plug their new single.

Soon the producer storms into the dressing room.

The four band members have cocky smiles on their faces, but the producer angrily tells him that the doors were booked for several more performances on the Ed Sullivan show, but the band can consider those canceled.

They'll never appear on the show again, but Jim seems unfazed.

He lounges back in his seat and replies, hey man, we just did the Ed Sullivan show.

The producer exit fuming, slamming the door behind him and stalks down the corridor to another peal of laughter from the band.

Just like when the doors were sacked from the Whiskey-A-Go-Go, the cancellation of the band from future episodes of the Ed Sullivan show leaves Jim completely unrepentant.

He insists they are going on to bigger and better things, and once again, he will be proven right.

The Doors 1968 singles, Hello, I Love You and Touch Me, reach number one in the US and Canada, and their next five studio albums break into the top ten in the US charts.

But as their success increases, so too will Jim's antics.

Three months after their infamous appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show, on December 9, 1967, Jim Morrison will be arrested in the middle of a gig in New Haven, Connecticut.

The sight of him being dragged off stage by two uniformed officers is met with howls of fury by Jim's outraged fans.

But facing arrest doesn't convince Jim to change his ways, and he doesn't slow down his partying either.

A little over three years after the New Haven incident, Jim's lifestyle will catch up to him and bring his notorious life to a premature end.

It's the early morning hours of July 3rd, 1971 in Paris, three and a half years after Jim Morrison's onstage arrest.

Pamela Corson awakes suddenly.

She's alone in bed, drenched in a cold sweat.

She tries to focus and work out where she is.

When she hears the sound of someone vomiting in the nearby bathroom, she remembers.

She's in a Parisian apartment with her boyfriend, Jim Morrison.

They're both feeling rough from taking heroin just a few hours ago.

After Jim's on-stage arrest in New Haven, the Doors continued to record new albums and perform gigs, but the rock and roll lifestyle was increasingly taking a toll on Jim Morrison.

He became dependent on alcohol and drugs, and his behavior continued to cause problems, even as it helped boost the band's bad boy reputation.

In March of 1969, Jim was arrested for indecent exposure after dropping his pants in full view of the audience at a Miami concert.

The incident made headlines, but many subsequent shows were canceled by outraged promoters.

Now, Pamela has accompanied Jim on a sabbatical to Paris to try to get clean and shake off their addictions, but neither of them have managed to kick their habits.

Pamela forces herself from bed and stumbles to the bathroom.

She sees Jim lying in a bath full of water, throwing up on the floor.

She goes to the kitchen to fetch a saucepan and brings it to the bath for Jim to be sick in.

She empties the saucepan two or three times, her own stomach churning at the sight of the flecks of blood in the vomit.

Finally, after getting it out of his system, Jim starts to feel better.

While Jim stays in the bath, Pamela returns to bed and drifts off into a fitful drug-induced sleep.

Half conscious, she thinks she hears Jim calling out, Pamela, are you there?

Around an hour later, Pamela wakes again with a start.

She feels the other side of the bed, and once again, Jim is absent.

She goes back to the bathroom.

This time, the door is locked.

In a panic, Pamela telephones a friend who hurries to the apartment.

He breaks a window in the bathroom door and forces it open.

When Pamela steps inside, she sees Jim in the bathtub under water.

Pamela tries and fails to lift Jim out of the tub.

She slaps at his face, hopelessly trying to jolt him awake, refusing to accept what is painfully obvious.

Her boyfriend is gone.

Jim Morrison's premature death robbed the world of an influential rock star.

His swaggering and surly persona won him legions of fans and made The Doors one of the most popular bands of the era.

But alcohol and drugs drove his bad behavior to excess, leading to canceled performances, trouble with the police and his tragic early death.

But it also solidified his legend as a countercultural icon of the 60s, a reputation that truly began when he was arrested on stage on December 9, 1967.

The podcast on History Daily, December 12th, 1936.

During the Chinese Civil War, nationalist leader Chiang Kai-shek is kidnapped, sparking a consequential political reckoning.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily.

Hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Molly Bach.

Sound design by Derek Barron.

Music by Lindsay Graham.

This episode is written and researched by Scott Reeves.

Executive producers are Stephen Walters for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.