Behind Bars and Behind the Mic: The Story of The Prisonaires, Sun Records’ Most Unlikely Stars

Daniel Holland
Dec 5, 2023
7 min read

Updated: 2 days ago

Historical photo of prisoners on a metal walkway beside a vibrant group holding a record. Text reads: "Behind Bars with The Prisonaires."

In the golden age of rock and roll, rebellion was as much a part of the music as the beat itself. Sam Phillips’ Sun Records in Memphis was built on that energy. Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis all carried an aura of danger, defying convention and reshaping music in their own way. But even these icons, with their talk of prisons, heartache and sin, could not match the genuine outlaw status of one of Sun’s most unusual acts.

The Prisonaires were not rock stars pretending to be rebels. They were real prisoners, serving time for serious crimes in Tennessee State Penitentiary. In 1953, they recorded a hauntingly beautiful doo-wop song called “Just Walkin’ in the Rain”, a tune that would make them famous far beyond the prison walls and forever etch their names into American music history.

The musical group the Prisonaires performing for other inmates, Tennessee State Penitentiary, 1953.

Born in Captivity

The story began in Nashville in the early 1950s at the Tennessee State Penitentiary, a sprawling stone fortress that loomed like a monument to human misery. Inside its walls was Johnny Bragg, born February 26, 1925, a man with a voice so soulful that it carried through the cell blocks and into the hearts of everyone who heard it.

Bragg had been locked up since 1943, when, at just 17 years old, he was convicted of six counts of rape. Years later, those convictions would be called into question as witnesses recanted their testimony, and many came to believe the charges had been falsified. But at the time, the teenage Bragg was handed an almost unimaginable sentence: 99 years in prison.

Robert Riley, serving 10 to 16 years for housebreaking, sat in his cell composing music, Tennessee State Penitentiary, 1953. Riley co-wrote the hit song, “Just Walkin’ in the Rain.”

Music became his escape. While incarcerated, he met two gospel singers, Ed Thurman and William Stewart, both serving 99 years for murder. Joining them were two other inmates, John Drue Jr., sentenced to three years for larceny, and Marcell Sanders, serving one to five years for involuntary manslaughter. Together, they found solace in harmony, forming a small group they called The Prisonaires.

Bragg’s natural talent as a singer and songwriter soon became evident. His voice could shift from a tender croon to a mournful cry, and it carried a depth that only life behind bars could produce. In an environment built on punishment, their songs were filled with longing, hope, and the quiet dignity of survival.

A Song from the Yard

The group’s breakthrough came one rainy afternoon in the prison yard. Bragg, reflecting on lost chances and the simple act of walking freely, began humming a melody that seemed to mirror the rhythm of the rain. Another inmate, Robert Riley, helped him write lyrics to match the tune. Together, they created “Just Walkin’ in the Rain,” a song filled with melancholy and quiet resignation.

“Just walkin’ in the rain,Gettin’ soaking wet,Torturin’ my heart,By tryin’ to forget.”

It was a simple song, yet its meaning reached beyond prison walls. It was about loneliness, regret, and the aching human desire for redemption.

Their talent might have stayed hidden forever if not for Joe Calloway, a Nashville radio producer preparing a broadcast from the prison. Hearing the men sing, he was struck by their harmonies and arranged for them to perform live on local radio. The broadcast caused a sensation. Listeners were astonished to learn that these beautiful voices belonged to convicted criminals.

A Song from the Yard

“Just walkin’ in the rain,

Gettin’ soaking wet,

Torturin’ my heart,

By tryin’ to forget.”

It was a simple song, yet its meaning reached beyond prison walls. It was about loneliness, regret, and the aching human desire for redemption.

The Prisonaires performed at Tennessee State Penitentiary warden James Edwards’ home, Nashville, Tenn., 1953. — The Prisonaires performing at Tennessee State Penitentiary warden James Edwards’ home, Nashville, Tenn., 1953.

Sun Records Steps In

Word reached Sam Phillips, the visionary founder of Sun Records, who had a gift for recognising authentic emotion in music. Phillips was intrigued. He sought permission from the Tennessee Department of Corrections and arranged for the group to be transported under armed guard to Memphis to record at his studio.

In July 1953, The Prisonaires walked into Sun Studio, their chains temporarily removed, and recorded “Just Walkin’ in the Rain.” The session was professional but tinged with poignancy. The guards stood by, rifles slung over their shoulders, while Bragg and his fellow inmates sang about the world beyond the walls.

When the single was released, it became an unexpected hit, selling more than 250,000 copies. It was one of Sun Records’ earliest successes and a striking example of how music could transcend even the most unlikely circumstances.

Prisonaire Johnny Bragg, Tennessee State Penitentiary, 1953.

Out on Day Release

As their popularity grew, The Prisonaires began to experience something almost unimaginable: partial freedom. With support from Governor Frank G. Clement and warden James Edwards, they were granted day passes to perform around Tennessee.

They sang at churches, VFW halls, and charity events, always accompanied by guards. They even performed regularly at the governor’s mansion, becoming favourites of Governor Clement and his family. LIFE magazine photographer Robert W. Kelley captured these surreal moments in a series of 1953 photographs: the five prisoners in pressed suits, singing sweet love songs under the watchful eyes of armed guards.

Audiences were fascinated by the contrast. Here were men convicted of murder, rape, and theft, harmonising about love and loss. Their sincerity and humility won over the public. The Prisonaires became living proof that music could reveal the humanity even in those society had cast aside.

Lives and Crimes

Each member of the group carried a dark history, and their crimes shaped both their music and the public’s perception of them.

Johnny Bragg, convicted on six counts of rape at 17, maintained his innocence until his death, with later reports suggesting the charges were falsified. His sentence was eventually commuted in 1956.
Ed Thurman and William Stewart were both convicted of murder and sentenced to 99 years each. They had been gospel singers before their imprisonment, their voices lending depth and gravity to the group’s harmonies.
John Drue Jr., serving three years for larceny, brought a lighter, youthful energy to the group.
Marcell Sanders, convicted of involuntary manslaughter, completed his term not long after the band’s formation.

For a while, The Prisonaires seemed to be living a second life. They were proof that something beautiful could emerge from violence and despair.

Fame Beyond the Walls

Their success caught the attention of artists and producers far beyond Tennessee. In 1956, Johnnie Ray recorded his own version of “Just Walkin’ in the Rain,” turning it into an international hit. Ray’s version reached #2 on the Billboard charts and #1 in the UK, selling more than eight times as many copies as the original. Yet even as Ray’s version climbed the charts, many music fans still remembered where it began.

Ray later credited Bragg for the song’s emotional depth, saying, “It was born behind bars, but it spoke to everyone who ever made a mistake.”

Second Chances and Setbacks

In 1956, Johnny Bragg’s sentence was commuted, and he finally walked free after 13 years in prison. He quickly formed a new group with Hal Hebb, Willy Wilson, Al Brooks, and Henry “Dishrag” Jones, performing first as The Sunbeams before rebranding as The Marigolds.

The Marigolds found modest success, scoring a hit with “Rollin’ Stone” on Decca Records, which reached #8 on the US R&B chart. For a brief time, Bragg seemed to have escaped the shadow of his past.

But in 1960, tragedy and injustice struck again. Bragg was sent back to prison on what he described as trumped-up charges, spending another six and a half years behind bars. During that time, he formed another group of inmates under The Prisonaires name, though they never recorded new material.

After his release, Bragg lived quietly in Nashville, working in a cemetery and occasionally performing at local events. Despite the hardships, he remained proud of what he had achieved, telling one journalist, “We sang to stay alive. Every song was a piece of freedom.”

The Final Chorus

The years that followed saw the gradual fading of The Prisonaires’ story. Their members met tragic ends:

William Stewart died of a drug overdose in a Florida motel in 1959.
Marcell Sanders passed away in the late 1960s.
Ed Thurman was killed in an accident in 1973.
John Drue Jr. died of cancer in 1977.
Johnny Bragg succumbed to cancer in 2004, aged 79.

Though they never achieved the long-lasting fame of Sun’s more famous stars, The Prisonaires left a legacy that was both musical and moral. Their story challenged public attitudes toward prisoners and redemption, showing that talent could thrive even in the harshest of circumstances.

Legacy and Meaning

Today, The Prisonaires stand as one of the most extraordinary acts in American music history. Their existence was improbable, their journey unprecedented, and their voices unforgettable. “Just Walkin’ in the Rain” remains their greatest legacy, a timeless reminder that beauty can emerge from the bleakest places.

In a world that loves to romanticise the outlaw, few stories are as real as this one. The Prisonaires were not play-acting at rebellion. They lived it, endured it, and somehow turned it into harmony. Listening to their recordings today, the music still sounds soft and sorrowful, but also full of defiance. It is the sound of men who found a way to be free, if only for three minutes at a time.