Boogie Cat Norman Sylvester: A Father’s Journey of Guitars, Blue, Economics and Family

"It all started in Bonita, Louisiana on a 112 acre farm that my Grandmother owned," local Blues icon Norman Sylvester remembered. "She is a midwife and in that farmhouse she delivered my Sister and I.” 

Growing up in the segregated south, Sylvester enjoyed a childhood filled with beauty and natural wonders that often seemed worlds apart from the gruesome reality on the other side of the property line. “I always tell my kids I was born in paradise because we would take off our shoes and run over that dirt with butterflies and hummingbirds and fruit,” he said with a smile. “Anything that you could've wanted is on that land. She farmed cotton and sugarcane and went to church every Sunday. My Mom and Dad met on that farm. He was a quartet singer and during that time was in an acapella group so I got to hear that gospel voice and the blending of the harmonies. When they added the guitar, that was my first introduction to what guitar sounded like with harmonizing voices. I was hooked on music then, just knowing it and feeling the emotion created by African-Americans when they put Blues and Gospel together during slavery. The whole thing was a survival communication thing.”

The family relocated to Oregon in 1957 when his father accepted a job with Union Pacific. “Racism has been around me all my life,” he remembered. “I would hear horror stories from my Grandparents, Mom and Dad about life in the South and things that had happened there. When I came here to Oregon, it was culture shock but the area was also full of African-American people in schools and in shopping centers, so I didn't run into a lot of racism because we stayed in our neighborhoods. Racism was here too, but growing up as a kid, it didn't affect me.”

His love of Blues and Gospel was deeply rooted in his childhood experiences and he credits his father for being the first to recognize his budding talent. “When I was a sophomore in high school, my Dad bought me a $11.95 guitar from H and B Pawnshop. He said if I learned 3 songs on the acoustic, he would buy me an electric. I met Isaac Scott and Danny Osbourne who taught me those 3 songs, so my Dad bought me the electric," he fondly recalled.

After getting married at the age of 20, Norman Sylvester became a father to 4 children while attending trade school. Upon graduation, he became a heavy duty mechanic and a Teamster, 2 positions that he held for 25 years. True to his roots, however, music remained his lifeblood and he pursued opportunities to engage in the world of Blues and Gospel music. “I opened for BB King in 1987 at the Arlene Schnitzer Hall and went back to the trucking company the next day,” he shared. “That's the Boogie Cats Journey. God had a plan for me and at the same time, I had to make a living to support my family. When, due to Reaganomics, the trucking company went out of business in 1990, I started Boogie Cat Productions and went to music full time. I had already been playing music on the side and, boom, everything opened up for me.”

He released his first recording in 1969 with a band called Rated X and credits his music with saving his sanity and his life. “In 1987, I attended the first Rose City Blues Festival with Johnny Hooker as the lead. I've only missed 4 festivals since then and that music has helped me survive. Even through this COVID thing, it still helps me survive. My wife and my family are, of course, my rocks and my foundation, but it's the music that keeps me off the psychiatrist's couch," he said with a laugh. “The high points for me have always been the blessing that God gave me to translate and communicate with music. Sometimes I go to a level of  playing that I didn’t know I could do, a level that’s higher than me. That’s because something is taking me there and I really appreciate those times.”

As much as he appreciates the highs he has experienced throughout his illustrious career, he also credits the lows along the way for revealing the Soul of his journey and the resilience and faith it has taken to transcend some of its greatest challenges. “The low parts of any man’s journey are, of course, health. I’ve had 4 hip surgeries because the trucking company wore out a lot of joints. The lowest point ever was when the trucking company went broke in 1990. 8,000 people were out of work and I had zero wages. I went from a good wage to nothing.”

His breakthrough and bounce back came when The Dislocated Workers of Oregon, who had trained him for bookkeeping, computer and interviewing skills, asked him what he wanted to do with the training they had provided. “I said that I never wanted to punch the clock again, God-willing,” Sylvester stated resolutely. “That’s when I started Boogie Cat Productions. The journey has not always been easy because being a Blues musician has not been a thing that was accepted by my culture of African-Americans. They look at the Blues as a sad, mournful thing that reminds them of pain and bad times. I look at Blues and Gospel as something that was a vehicle for oppressed people to have a voice and something that they created inside their Soul that they could call their own, that no one else had ownership of or could take away from them. The earliest musicians were sharecroppers and hardworking people back in the day. I could not sing the Blues like Muddy Waters because I never lived the Blues like him, but I can stand on his shoulders and play the Blues. I can stand on BB’s shoulders and play the Blues because he laid the path. The hard part is when I look out in the audience and I don’t see a lot of my people. BB talked a lot about having to come to terms with that too. The bright spot and Blessing is that when I play Good in the Hood at King School,  I see every African-American person that I know and that I haven't seen in a long time. I was on the committee that started that Festival 11 years ago and since, it has been bringing positive vibes to North and Northeast Portland by bringing folks in who thought it wasn’t really “Good” in the “Hood”, thanks to negative press.”

The changes and gentrification he has witnessed as a resident of North Portland over decades brings tears to his eyes. "What hurts me about the journey of the neighborhood is how much it's changed,” he said sadly.  “I get tears in my eyes when I drive past 7th and Alberta where Coast Janitorial used to be. Coast used to give lots of folks work and I see a lot of other spots like that now that used to be predominantly African-American. It was a struggle then and the struggle continues.”

While Sylvester still mourns the losses that have beset his community, his spirit is buoyed by the awakening he has also witnessed over the course of his lifetime.  “I have a video of a song called “I Don’t Know What This World Is Coming To”,” he reflected. “It is about George Floyd and the very pivotal and enlightening time we went through last year when there were people who hadn’t ever experienced racism, laying down on the bridge in protest. As an elderly person in the community, I just want to support that because Black Lives DO Matter. I remember Medgar Evars. I remember Martin Luther King. I remember Emmett Till's death. Every day felt like the darkest days in the world, but that was life. After these dark days, there will be light, because people are out there shining light on the situation. It’s a shame that we still have to be singing “We Shall Overcome” after all this time. I want to be singing, “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it Shine”. Shine your light on the problems and bring them out of the shadows. Put your light on it with your words, your letters to your Congresspeople and Representatives. Speak your words and let’s not tear down our neighborhoods and everything that we need. Let’s march, speak our words, try and get into politics and into positions where we can make a change. We need a seat at the table. We just gotta keep holding on and keep struggling.”

The struggle continues and has taken on new meaning since the COVID 19 pandemic gripped the nation and the world. “The pandemic for me has been a family bonding and soul searching time,” mused Sylvester. “I have always valued my family, but now, I value them 100 times more. I had a major surgery back in January and my last live club gig was March 13th. Since then, I have been doing virtual videos, writing at home and my band has been submitting studio pieces that we have recorded at home. The bass man mixes it down into a song, my daughter records her part on her IPhone and sends it to us. We have had to reinvent the way we make music virtually and that’s a learning curve for a 75 year old man,” he said with a laugh. 

Awareness of his health and the need to be proactive in finding solutions to the crises facing his family and community led him to testify in front of the legislature on a panel for Healthcare for All Oregon. “I sang a song called “Healing the Healthcare Blues”, because we as African-Americans need healthcare for these underlying conditions that plague us. Healthcare is a human right and that is where we need to be focusing a lot of our energy. Human rights, equality, accountability, healthcare are so important. Even though we are scattered all over the place in Portland, we can still have unity.” 

Despite the vast changes across the entire sociopolitical landscape, Sylvester believes that there are incredible opportunities for musicians recently entering the field as long as they stay true to their purpose. “What I would say to young people is do what makes your soul feel right,” he stated passionately. “You might be a spoken word person, you might be a hip-hop person or a rap person, you might be blues, you might be jazz. Find your genre.” In addition to pursuing one's Soul and driving force, it is the business of music that he feels is the most important factor to take into consideration when getting into the industry. “I’ve always been a Union person,” he said firmly. “I have an attorney and am aware of copyrights. I copyright all my materials. Know the business of music because it is the business that can wear you down. Before you play your music for anybody, do a statutory copyright. Put the lyrics and words in an envelope with a signed receipt and send it via registered mail to yourself. Never open it because that’s your copyright. Go to Sound Exchange and if your song ever gets played on the internet, Sound Exchange will recoup your money if you are a member of BMI and/or ASCAP.”

Throughout his 75-year journey as a man, husband, father and musician, Norman Sylvester considers his greatest accomplishments to come from the people he is closest to who surround him with love. “If you ever ask me what the biggest accomplishment of my life is, I will say fatherhood,” Sylvester concluded. “I have children on this planet that call me out of the blue and ask me how I am doing, that’s my Grammy right there. When I’m on my rocking chair with my guitar, even if I’m not strong enough to do the rocking, I have a family that will do the rocking for me and keep me going.”