A service station receipt signed by Jim Morrison, with the imprint of his credit card using his full name ‘James D Morrison.’

We acquired this receipt, for a $1.00 tire change, from Vicky, a woman who dated Morrison.  Her accompanying letter of provenance reads:

A beautiful sunny day—July 30, 1969, riding with Jim Morrison in his midnight blue Pontiac Le Mans…& after pulling into the Doors office parking lot on Santa Monica Blvd. & La Brea…& as he briefly went up to the office, I noticed 1 crumpled gas station receipt (Standard Oil Co. of Ca.) on the car’s floor, which I immediately decided to keep as a ’souvenir.’  That was, perhaps, just rubbish for him.  Having saved it for 50+ years, Jeff Gold purchased this receipt on December 21, 2021 for [blacked out amount].

Vicky rescued this from the floor of Morrison’s car just twelve days after the release of The Doors fourth album, The Soft Parade.  

Those old enough to remember 60s-era service station receipts probably recall the top layer, given to the customer, was printed on thin, translucent almost tissue-like paper.  The card imprinting technology was crude at best, and the paper not ideal for ink adhesion. That said, Morrison’s signature is fully readable, as is the ‘James D Morrison’ imprint, the March 1970 charge card expiration date, and most of the date of service, which appears to be 7/20/69. (Nearly 53 years later the service station is still standing, and now an auto repair shop!)

Also included is a handwritten letter from Doors secretary Kathy Lisciandro to Vicky, dated June 1972.  After Morrison’s death, Vicky wrote to Lisciandro, asking what Jim Morrison might have told her about her about his feelings for Vicky.  Lisciandro writes at length on both sides of a single sheet, in part:

Yes I do remember you—and as to your relationship with Jim, or rather how he might have felt about you, I would be a fool to try and say.  However I do know this, when he really liked someone and enjoyed being with them, he would never discuss them or really talk about them in the office or to me, as he would about girls whom he didn’t care about one way or another.  I never remember him saying anything about you personally, which I took to be a good sign.  I felt he liked you.  That’s all I can truthfully say.  I don’t want to enhance your memories unnecessarily, nor do I want you to feel you meant nothing to him.  All I can truthfully & honestly say is that I’m sure he liked you and enjoyed your company. Memories are beautiful things though often-times painful, but they shouldn’t color the rest of your life, they should add to it.  Try to think of your relationship with Jim as an entity, beginning whenever it did & ending the last time you saw or heard from him, and everything that happened in-between, whether happy or sad, as a remarkable part of your life, a lovely little jewel to be taken out once in a while, polished up and enjoyed fo just what it is, nothing more, nothing less.

The only Jim Morrison credit card receipt we’ve seen.  With Vicky’s letter of provenance, Kathy Lisciandro’s letter to Vicky, a letter of authenticity from music autograph expert Roger Epperson, and Recordmecca’s written lifetime guarantee of authenticity.

[Note: of late there has been a dramatic rise in prices for Jim Morrison-signed items; in 2020, a 22-word secretarially-typed thank you note signed by Morrison sold for just under $23,000, and his driver’s license selling for $27,800.]