By March 1969, nudity was everywhere.

Or so it would seem if you had grown up in the conventional and relatively orderly life of the 1950s. Rising hem lines, plunging necklines, women taking off their tops in public, men and women cavorting in the nude at festivals. Hair had been on Broadway almost a year by this point, billing itself as “the American Tribal Love-Rock Musical” in which the actors and actresses get naked on stage. Six nights a week, twice on the weekends, but never on Mondays. And people dug it. Hair ran for four years and 1,750 performances.

When raucous and unpredictable Doors front man Jim Morrison was accused of showing his penis to 12,000 adoring fans at a Doors concert in Miami on March 1, 1969, those who weren’t terribly appalled also weren’t terribly surprised.

Morrison was the bad boy of rock and roll. After four years as lead singer of the Doors, Jim Morrison had gained a reputation for rowdy, drunken behavior on stage and off. His December 1967 arrest on stage during a concert in New Haven, Conn., was already the stuff of legend. No rocker had ever been plucked off stage by the cops in the middle of a performance before.

That wasn’t the only limit Morrison broke. A talented writer and iconic lead singer with little care or concern for self-control, he pushed against every boundary that he came across. Morrison was anti-authoritarian by nature, and run-ins with the law were not uncommon.

Morrison had been an avid reader of philosophy and psychology since he was a teen, driven by and toward anything that delved into the subconscious and breaking down the barriers of the mind. Unfortunately for Morrison, in real life this translated into being drunk, stoned, tripping, or some cocktail of all of the above. Around the clock. Which is fun for a while.

But just a while.

By March 1, 1969, Morrison’s antics were wearing thin. The lanky, sexy, lion-maned poet whose face had sold millions of records had grown heavy and bearded, his thickening body exhibiting the fruits of his Dionysian labors. His erratic behavior and seemingly constant drunkenness frayed relations with his bandmates. The quality of his singing and live performances were hit and miss. He showed up late for recording sessions completely sozzled.

Which is how Morrison arrived at the Dinner Key Auditorium in Miami’s Coconut Grove that night for a concert. Drunk off his ass and an hour late. The crowd was over capacity, over heated, and annoyed. Perfect opportunity to incite a riot.

Is this the face of a man who would expose himself in public?

Morrison drunkenly taunted his audience, stirring them up, yelling at them. Whatever it took. The show degenerated into a circus. People climbed up on stage and started taking off their clothes. Someone even brought a lamb. Morrison peeled off his shirt, dangling it in front of his groin, teasing the audience into thinking he was going to whip it out.

The Doors skipped town after the show for a pre-scheduled trip. Back in Miami, Morrison’s behavior was all over the media. Florida was one of the more conservative states of the time, and there were officials who believed a stand had to be made for common decency, lest Miami become a haven for the sort of anti-authoritarian behavior that Morrison was encouraging.

On March 5, a warrant for Morrison’s arrest went out. The misdemeanors: public drunkenness, open profanity, and indecent exposure; and a felony: lewd and lascivious behavior. Apparently, Morrison also simulated fellatio on Robby Krieger on stage. What a cut-up, this guy.

On March 23, a Rally for Decency took place at Orange Bowl Stadium in Miami in direct response to Morrison’s performance at the beginning of the month. 30,000 people attended the event, which included musical acts and wholesome entertainment for the whole family. On April 3, Morrison turned himself in.

Morrison’s bandmates denied that he exposed himself, and there were many witnesses who testified to the same. The theory took shape that the case against Morrison was a put-on driven by cultural forces at war with the younger generation. The sentiment that such a case could be prosecuted was proof of the lack of trust between generations and the cynicism that youth held against the Establishment.

Either way, Morrison was facing jail time. But he wasn’t the only one suffering. Tour dates began to evaporate after the Miami incident, and the Doors took heat in the press. They still managed to play 18 shows in North America the remainder of 1969, but it was evident that Morrison’s behavior had affected the band financially. Creativity suffered too, as Jim’s drinking posed a major challenge to recording the band’s fourth album, The Soft Parade, which they released on July 18.

The Soft Parade and everything that followed was still good music. Some folks make a point of saying that earlier Doors albums were better. But it’s all rock and roll, man. Just listen to it and enjoy it.

Miami still hung on Morrison, and the fight to keep him out of jail was a long one. He pleaded not guilty to the charges on November 9, but his case did not go to trial until August 10 of 1970. The defense and supporters of Morrison saw the trial as a farce, with Judge Murray Goodman out to get Morrison to either send a message to the liberals or score political points with the conservatives. Maybe both.

Morrison in court, 1970.

On September 20, 1970, Morrison was found guilty of open profanity and indecent exposure. He was sentenced to six months hard labor and a $500 fine. He was allowed to go free pending his appeal, which was never settled because Morrison took what turned out to be a one-way flight to Paris in March 1971. He died in the City of Light on July 3.

Morrison’s case was brought to rest by Florida Governor Charlie Crist in 2010. Crist was about to leave office, but as a Doors fan he could not pass up the opportunity to posthumously pardon Jim Morrison for his crimes, which Crist did on December 9.

Pardoning Jim Morrison for his actions in Miami 39 years after his death was a tying up of loose ends that you don’t often see in history. But it does not detract from the legend. Morrison’s reputation as the ultimate bad boy of rock and roll is secure.

“I am the Lizard King. I can do anything.” Jim Morrison