Before he died last Tuesday of cancer at the age of 77, former “Tower of Power” lead singer Rick Stevens led an extraordinary life that touched the extremes of the human condition — fame, disgrace, murder, and redemption.
The lowest ebb of his story, the moment he said made him fall to his knees, happened in Santa Clara County. Stevens served 36 years in California prisons for two drug-related murders in the Los Gatos mountains in 1976 and a third slaying in San Jose.
The singer narrowly escaped the death penalty when the California Supreme Court threw out the state’s capital punishment law at the end of 1976. In fact, what happened to Stevens in prison might be one of the most eloquent arguments against the ultimate penalty.
His odyssey began in Beaumont, Texas, where Stevens — real name: Don Charles Stevenson — grew up surrounded by music. His uncle was the rhythm and blues singer Ivory Joe Hunter, and one of his friends was the young Janis Joplin.
By the time he moved to Oakland at age 14, Stevens was already a veteran performer. He appeared with the “Idolistics’’ in 1964 and then led a band called Rick and the Ravens, which played in San Francisco at the Condor night club.
Joining the “Tower of Power,” in 1969, he was known for hits like, “You’re Still a Young Man,” and “Sparkling in the Sand.” He had a raspy, funky voice that offered a haunting contrast with the brass of the band. And for several years, he was at the top of the West Coast musical scene.
He also acquired a formidable drug habit that gave him the nickname “The Junkie” and led to his departure from the band in 1972. And it was heroin that led him on Feb. 18, 1976, to the Bear Creek Road cabin of brothers Harry Austin, 24, and Andrew Austin, 29.
Stevens later testified that he was being pressured to pay a debt to the Austins for supplying him with heroin. The singer brought two men with him. But there was no question that he was the triggerman that day, or that the Austins were very much dead.
The next day, in an argument inside a San Jose home, Stevens shot to death Elliott Ray Wickliffe, 30. In a bit of superb work by San Jose police, he was captured running across the grounds of the Edenvale Elementary School. “What’s the hassle?” Stevens asked the arresting officer, Rich Vizzusi.
His trial in the courtroom of Superior Court Judge John McInerny was marked by soap-box revelations and thorny questions of law. At one point, the courtroom was stunned by testimony that Steven’s attorney, LeRue Grim, had slept with one of the prosecution’s key witnesses.
“Stevens was a very charming and talented person,” said former DA George Kennedy, who prosecuted the case as a deputy DA. “I continue to view it as a fascinating drama because of the legal issues, witnesses, defense lawyers, victims, era and judge.”
Stevens, then 35, was convicted of double first-degree murder of the Austins — a death penalty offense — and manslaughter in the death of Wickliffe. But a few days before McInerny was due to sentence him, the California Supreme Court threw out the death penalty, saying it did not allow for consideration of mitigating circumstances.
The judge, who later stayed in touch with Stevens, said he was glad to be able to sentence him to life rather than death. Later, McInerny recalled, he asked Stevens why he never appealed his sentence. “Why?” the singer replied, according to the judge. “I got a fair trial.”
Stevens was a relatively lucky inmate: When he got to prison, he said later, there were care packages waiting for him. He sang with a band in the big yard. And he was able to get escorted passes out of prison to sing before correctional groups. He was paroled in 2012.
Two years ago, he appeared in a TV interview with talk show host Danna Wilberg, who asked him about his path to redemption. “One does a lot of praying,” Stevens replied. “One does a lot of self-realization, of realizing drugs are not the way to go.”
Judge McInerny, now in retirement, summed it up this way. “When they say, ‘He found God in prison,’ he really did find God in prison.”
