Why This House in Nashville Has a Waylon Jennings Logo

This story has been updated.

It’s definitely not unusual when driving through the metropolitan portions of Nashville to see little tributes to country stars embedded in the scenery. After all, as Waylon Jennings once famously said in song, “It’s the home of country music, on that we all agree.” Murals, statues, and banners out front of label offices and publishing houses are a common part of the landscape in Music City, especially around 16th and 17th Ave., a.k.a. “Music Row” where the mother brain of the country music industry is located.

But when recently driving through the area, I passed a house at 1117 17th Ave. on the corner of Edgewood and 17th, and unmistakably noticed the iconic Flying ‘W’ logo of Waylon Jennings on the side above a row of stained glass windows, and wondered what it was all about. It wasn’t just a decoration. It was architectural, and seemed like it had been there for a long time. It also seemed like it had a story to tell.

1117 17th Ave. is just south of the well-recognized Music Row campus in Nashville. As those who’ve been there know, many of the offices in the area inhabit old houses in what started out as a residential neighborhood. Some of the houses have been torn down for office buildings and condos. Others houses still remain, like this one.

The business currently inhabiting 1117 17th Ave. is called Frost Specialty Insurance, and really doesn’t have anything to do with music, unless they insure a music client. The owner of the insurance company is also the current owner of the house. But none of this has to do with the Flying ‘W’, or why it is there. To find the answer, I had to do some more digging.

Researching “1117 17th Ave., Nashville” and “Waylon Jennings,” I pulled up an old newspaper clipping from August 25th, 1977 from the local Nashville newspaper, The Tennessean. This is when everything started to fall into place. It turns out that at one point, the house was the office of Waylon Jennings. It was also involved in one of the most notorious stories in country music history, and one that Waylon Jennings made into a hit song.

When first pulling up in the parking lot behind the house, I encountered someone walking into the back door. It turns out, there are actually TWO 1117 17th Ave.’s in Nashville—the older house being one portion of the property, and the back addition being a second. This ends up being a very important aspect to the historical significance of the building, and to the Waylon Jennings story.

In the back of the house is where a business called Robyn Blair Skincare is currently located, and Robyn Blair is who I first spoke to. In the front is where the insurance company is. In the late ’70s, Waylon’s office was in one portion of the house. This was one of the winnings in his negotiations with RCA with the help of hot shot lawyer Neil Reshen that allowed Waylon to take control of his own publishing, which necessitated he keep an “office.”

Right next to the house was the “American Sound” studio, operated by legendary producer, songwriter, and guitar player Chips Moman. Though Moman’s American Sound had more legendary locations over the years, he moved the studio to 1111 17th Ave. in the late ’70s. Waylon and Chips were friends at the time. Chips co-wrote Waylon’s hit “Luckenbach, TX,” and produced Waylon’s 1977 album Ol’ Waylon, which was recorded at 1111 17th Ave. in Nashville.

In August of 1977, Waylon’s hot shot lawyer Neil Reshen owed Waylon a favor, and decided to pay it off with Waylon’s favorite commodity at the time: cocaine. At the time, Ol’ Waylon was keeping an upwards of $1,500/day cocaine habit in 1970’s money.

Using the World Courier service, Neil Reshen decided to ship Waylon a cocaine care package, which due to a disgruntled employee or previous lover of Reshen, got tipped off to DEA agents. The DEA was called to World Courier in New York, cracked the package, confirmed its contents, and then allowed it to continue on its way to Waylon’s office at 1117 17th Ave. where the package was addressed. This is where they intended to arrest Waylon for possession and intent to distribute cocaine.

According to the newspaper clipping, “According to the federal complaint, a package addressed to Jennings at 1117 17th Ave. S. was received last night at World Courier, Inc. in New York. Both Jennings’ office and American Studio are listed at that address in the telephone book, although they occupy separate buildings next door to each other.”

Again, this address designation is a critical wrinkle to the story, and factors into how Waylon would eventually wiggle his way out of going to prison for many years for the amount of cocaine contained in the package.

When the package arrived in Nashville, it was first picked up by a couple of women who worked for Waylon, who then brought over to the studio where Waylon was currently laying down overdub vocals on Hank Williams Jr.’s version of the song “Storms Never Last.” This is where Waylon picks up the story in his autobiography.

Two girls from my office opened the door to the control room and came in. One of them handed me a package from Neil’s office … I had an inkling what it might be. I stuck the package under my arm and walked out into the studio area, setting the package down on a music stand in front of my microphone … I cracked that open and took a peek, long enough to assure myself that it contained packs of cocaine. I put it on the music stand and tucked my headphones back over my ears.

But instead of music coming over the phones, I heard a crowd of people. There was this voice saying, “We’re with the Federal Drug Enforcement Agency. What happened to the package the girls just delivered?”

Richie [Albright] (Waylon’s long-time drummer) was running the session. I looked into the control room and could see him starring off to the side, out of view of the double-glass window. He had his hand down on the talkback button, letting me hear everything that was going on. American Sound had a Harrison mixing board, and that was lucky, because a lot of studio communication buttons only go one way at a time. With the Harrison, you could leave it down and talk and hear everything in return.

The rest of the story can be recited by most Waylon Jennings fans back and forth, and was once chronicled on the Tales from the Tour Bus series animated by Mike Judge. After Waylon figured out what was going on, he took the package, and deftly threw it under a baseboard by the wall, out of sight.

Then Waylon used to the diversion of them actively recording a vocal take while Richie ran interference to distract the DEA agents. Though Richie offered up to be the fall guy, eventually the cocaine ended up being removed from the studio, and flushed down the toilet. All the DEA agents found was some leftover residue in a few baggies. Without any evidence, ultimately the charges were never prosecuted.

Waylon Jennings wrote the song “Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit’s Done Got Out of Hand” about the whole incident, singing at one point, “They came boundin’ through the backdoor in the middle of a song. They got me for possession for something that was gone long gone.”

But the linchpin that allowed Waylon to get off and get rid of the cocaine before he could be found in physical possession of it actually has a lot to do with 1117 17th Ave. in Nashville. That address doesn’t appear in Waylon’s account of the incident in his autobiography, or in virtually any of the stories about Waylon’s cocaine bust, except for the aforementioned newspaper clip.

Waylon’s office and Chips Moman’s American Studio were two separate businesses, and two separate properties. Waylon goes on to explain in his autobiography,

[The DEA agent] took out two warrants, one for possession of cocaine and the other for conspiracy with further intent to distribute. I took some time looking over them. It’s not everyday you get to see how a real outlaw feels. After a while I handed them back. “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “You said possession, and I don’t see any around here. Do you?”

“We know it’s here,” he said. We’d both seen this movie somewhere on television before.

“If it’s here,” I said slowly, turning over my palms, playing my part to the fullest, “finding it might be a problem.”

That wasn’t the only problem, as it turned out. They had been so sure of the package’s final stop that they’d only gotten a search warrant for my office. They didn’t have any legal right to tear apart the studio. “Unless you allow us to search here, we can’t,” they admitted, a little shamefacedly. “We’ll have to go get another warrant; but we’re not here to arrest you and we’re not going to bring the press with us or anything.”

That was a nice touch, but I wasn’t falling for it.

Eventually, the DEA did get a search warrant for the studio, and proceeded to tear it apart, though drummer Richie Albright had already moved the cocaine from the studio, to a stairwell, and eventually, down the pipes. Reading the old newspaper clipping, it claims that both the Waylon Jennings office and the Chips Moman American Sound studio shared the 1117 17th Ave. address.

[Chips] Moman said he was stopped at his suburban home Tuesday night around sunset by plainclothes officers who asked to search his car. When he learned that his studio was being raided he hurried to Music Row. “I could just see them tearing this place apart with a crowbar after all the work we’ve done to restore it,” he said, as he looked around at the quaint big house with its huge wooden doors, fancy balustrades and stained glass windows.”

One question that kept coming up when researching the story was if 1117 17th Ave. was truly two completely separate properties with space in-between, or basically the same house, just with an addition in the back like it is today, constituting the two separate businesses. With the newspaper clipping mentioning the “fancy balustrades and stained glass windows,” it alludes that it is likely the same building.

So how did the Waylon Jennings logo get placed above the stained glass window that overlooks a staircase with the fancy balustrades? That still remains a mystery at this point. Though the insurance company that currently inhabits the building keeps the door locked at all times due to issues with the homeless in the area, they did allow me inside where I saw the stained glass and balustrade from the inside, as well as a picture of Waylon Jennings hanging in the front room.

Numerous attempts to contact the owner of the house to get more information have been unsuccessful. It’s likely the Waylon logo just replaced another stained glass window at the top that was broken at some point. But most importantly, it marks one of the more historic places in the history of Outlaw country.

However, after initially posting this article, other newspaper clippings and paperwork were sent to Saving Country Music that confirm that the initial reporting by The Tennessean was wrong. Waylon’s office at 1117 17th Ave. did not share the same address as Chips Moman’s American Sound studio. The address for the studio was in fact 1111 17th Ave., as can be seen in the below deed record when Chips Moman sold the property months after the incident.

Nonetheless, as confusing as the addresses were for reporters at the time, it was just as confusing for DEA agents, and helped Waylon beat the charges.

Let’s also note that on the night of March 31st, 1984, Waylon Jennings did all of the cocaine he could handle, and then left the rest he had in his possession—which was about twenty thousand dollars worth—on his bus parked outside a remote cabin in the Arizona desert, and started the detox process, assisted solely by his wife Jessi Colter, and a doctor who would come by every once in a while to give him vitamin shots. He would never do cocaine again.

Meanwhile, 1117 17th Ave. still stands in an area where many of the older houses have been bulldozed for new condominiums and office buildings. Beyond the Flying ‘W’ logo in the side commemorating Waylon’s experiences there, hopefully the property remains standing for years to come as an important location in country music history.

Editors Note: This story has been updated to reflect that 1117 17th Ave. and 1111 17th Ave. were indeed different properties.