Prologue
I wasn’t searching for Margie Hendrix—that raw, trembling “Baby!” that nearly shattered the grooves of “(Night Time Is) the Right Time” found me. It wasn’t just arrival—it was a storm. That kind of voice doesn’t happen by accident; it’s forged in faith, pain, and defiance. Her voice, her godblessed voice!!!!!
And then I learned her story, I heard not only the voice but the life wound inside it—the soaring highs, the grit beneath the glamour, and the tragedy that turned spark into flicker. Such loss for humanity.
1. Georgia Roots: Born to Sing
Margie Hendrix—Marjorie to her family—was born March 13, 1935, in Register, Georgia, a quiet town near Statesboro.(Wikipedia, sirshambling.com) The youngest of three, her brother Harley died when she was around three, leaving a quiet grief that shadowed her early years.(Wikipedia, Longreads)
The church was her first stage. She sang, played piano, and directed her local choir—her voice trading in earthly sorrow for sacred catharsis.(sirshambling.com, Wikipedia) She had discipline, conviction, and a voice fierce enough to rattle chandeliers.
2. Heading North: Ambition Meets Opportunity
At around 18, Margie followed her sister Lula north to New York. There, the city’s hum met her humble Southern roots. In 1954, she recorded her first single, “Good Treatment / Every Time,” on Lamp Records—but it made no immediate impact.(Wikipedia)
Yet fortune found her in 1956 when she joined The Cookies, replacing a founding member. The trio scored a #9 R&B hit with “In Paradise,” signaling she was more than just some voice in the pews.(Wikipedia)
3. The Raelettes: Fire, Fame, and a Father
In 1958, Margie merged with Darlene McCrea to form The Raelettes, Ray Charles’s official backing ensemble. Their debut together, “(Night Time Is) the Right Time,” soared to #5 on the R&B charts—and Margie owned it.(Wikipedia, Longreads)
Ray, ever enthralled, said, “Aretha, Gladys, Etta James … these gals are all bad, but on any given night, Margie will scare you to death.”(CultureSonar)
Their collaboration sparked more than harmony. Their affair led to the birth of their son, Charles Wayne Hendrix, on October 1, 1959. Margie begged Ray to leave his wife, Della, and raise their child together—but he remained committed on paper.(Wikipedia, Longreads, CultureSonar)
4. Cracks Beneath the Glitter
By the early 1960s, Margie was both stage dynamite and personal wreckage. Addiction shadowed her, fueling volatile behavior: missed gigs, fights in the recording room, arriving drunk. Her brilliance began to corrode.(Wikipedia, Lipstick Alley)
In 1964, “A Lover’s Blues” became her last recording with Ray. Shortly after, on tour in Europe, she admitted to an affair with one of Ray’s trumpet players—a final turn in a spiral. Ray fired her, cutting ties officially.(Wikipedia, Lipstick Alley)
5. Solo Sparks and Streets of Struggle
Undeterred, Margie signed with Mercury Records in 1965. She released singles—“Now The Hurts On You,” “Baby,” “Restless,” “One Room Paradise,” “I Call You Lover But You Ain’t Nothin’ But A Tramp.”(Wikipedia, Longreads) None of them charted. The label shelved her album, and she sank further into alcohol and drugs.(Lipstick Alley, Longreads)
In 1966, she married jazz singer Robert Fulson, Lowell Fulson’s brother—they toured but couldn’t cement momentum.(Wikipedia, Lipstick Alley)
Then came a car accident in September 1967 in Texas—she survived, but suffered neck injuries and partial hearing loss. Mercury dropped her that year.(Wikipedia, Lipstick Alley)
She signed with Sound Stage 7 in 1968, released two singles, but again failed to chart, and was dropped by 1970.(Wikipedia, Lipstick Alley)
6. Fade into Silence
By 1971, Margie was invisible, unstable. Her performances stopped. Drugs and alcohol ruled. Her voice—once a national riot—went silent.(Wikipedia, Lipstick Alley)
On July 14, 1973, at age 38, she died in New York. No autopsy, no closure. Rumors swirled: overdose, cancer, car accident—but poverty and isolation seem undeniable.(Lipstick Alley, Longreads) She was buried back home in Register, Georgia.(Longreads, Lipstick Alley)
7. Echoes — The Invisible Giant
Margie left no awards, no renown—but her whispered howl lives on. Tarisai Ngangura writes how her story reflects a cruel truth: a talented Black woman, public but unseen. Her erasure wasn’t just personal tragedy—it speaks to industry neglect and systemic cruelty.(Longreads)
Her musical DNA runs through voices like Jennifer Hudson, Jazmine Sullivan, Ledisi—women who wield their vocal power like protest.(Longreads)
Margie Hendrix was a storm disguised as a voice. When I listen, I don’t hear her death—I hear stories untold, and the brilliance that still inspires me.
