tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13338802408592471132024-03-25T07:17:45.825-07:001960s & 1970s USA Hit ParadeLuiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-85686813412865225552024-03-25T02:07:00.000-07:002024-03-25T07:17:12.365-07:00WWDJ Hackensack, N.J. 18 April 1973 - Bwana Johnny's countdown on Sunday night<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>WWDJ</b> was a radio station in Hackensack, N.J. that in the early '70s that tried to compete with <b>WABC</b>. However, the signal did not have the reach that WABC did. Here is arguably the most popular DJ, <b>Bwana Johnny</b> (real name: Richard Johnson) counting down the <b>top 30</b> of week of <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">25 April 1973</span></b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">1. </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Tie a yellow ribbon on the ole oak tree</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> - </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Tony Orlando & Dawn</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> (Bell) (1)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">2. The night the lights went out in Georgia - Vicki Lawrence (Bell) (2)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">3. <b>Superfly meets Shaft</b> - <b>John & Ernest </b>(Rainy Wednesday) (7)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">4. Cisco Kid - War (UA) </span><span style="font-family: arial;">(8)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">5. Sing - Carpenters (A&M) </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">6. Stuck in the middle with you - Stealers Wheel (A&M) (16)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">7. Little Willy - The Sweet (A&M)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">8. You are the sunshine of my life - Stevie Wonder (Tamla-Motown)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">9. Twelfth of never - Donny Osmond (MGM)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">10. Neither one of us - Gladys Knight & the Pips (Soul-Motown)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">11. Ain't no woman like the one I've got - Four Tops (Dunhill)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">12. Reeling in the years - Steely Dan (ABC) (27)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">13. <b>Pillow talk</b> - <b>Sylvia Robinson</b> (Vibration)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">14. <b>Armed and extremely dangerous</b> - <b>First Choice</b> (Philly Groove) (21)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">15. <b>Wild flower</b> - <b>Skylark</b> (Capitol) (29)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">16. Danny's song - Anne Murray (Capitol) (10)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">17. Killing me softly with his song - Roberta Flack (Atlantic) (6)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">18. <b>Peaceful</b> - <b>Helen Reddy</b> (Capitol)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">19. Space oddity - David Bowie (RCA) (11)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">20. Drift away - Dobie Grey (Decca) </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">21. <b>Frankenstein</b> - <b>Edgar Winter Group</b> (Epic)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">22. <b>Daniel</b> - <b>Elton John</b> (MCA)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">23. <b>I'm doin' fine, now</b> - <b>New York City</b> (Chelsea)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">24. <b>Walk on the wild side</b> -<b> Lou Reed</b> (RCA)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">25. <b>Hocus pocus</b> - <b>Focus</b> (Sire)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">26. <b>Funky worm</b> - <b>Ohio Players</b> (Westbound) </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">27. Stir it up - Johnny Nash (Epic)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">28. <b>I can understand it</b> - <b>The New Birth</b> (RCA) (27)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">29. Masterpiece - The Temptations (Gordy-Motown)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">30. <b>Leaving me</b> - <b>The Independents</b> (Wand) </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeSLWYXoydiTQ3aMCWvIkvQFuUjbuRAL4lhQEUtizwEfRtVO0FLlep2KQ6zZkSjh4fvwfZSdDjaKyFvuSXJnXoivNvoBqiBionp2hGVmKHWANqYKLx8aAcnccgtUtSKlrbcVBMfy1Hb0eyQlkQVGr4VakNrSteeBeruOSHsWTX_1uIbFy_UnvfCeQEYjHD/s373/WWDJ.Bwana.1971.cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeSLWYXoydiTQ3aMCWvIkvQFuUjbuRAL4lhQEUtizwEfRtVO0FLlep2KQ6zZkSjh4fvwfZSdDjaKyFvuSXJnXoivNvoBqiBionp2hGVmKHWANqYKLx8aAcnccgtUtSKlrbcVBMfy1Hb0eyQlkQVGr4VakNrSteeBeruOSHsWTX_1uIbFy_UnvfCeQEYjHD/s16000/WWDJ.Bwana.1971.cover.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkQlQn_BA03HjUpqE4Qsu87f45GX_vfVOVN_dRB2sRDAOIwiJf1Vr9tZVHZ5NXSowxkG3CEjPzhKvwy-bMUf2GPcsPMy5fQ9WyO63AnACtr2fGEauFXFqwVaLaPMQ8wUXBBKMJcq4GvQmrXOfwRuO7UtC9JZxV2QQXbEwIMa8TaMStzHe_1Gqb7hKPJZO/s862/WWDJ.Bwana%20Johnny.passaic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="862" data-original-width="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkQlQn_BA03HjUpqE4Qsu87f45GX_vfVOVN_dRB2sRDAOIwiJf1Vr9tZVHZ5NXSowxkG3CEjPzhKvwy-bMUf2GPcsPMy5fQ9WyO63AnACtr2fGEauFXFqwVaLaPMQ8wUXBBKMJcq4GvQmrXOfwRuO7UtC9JZxV2QQXbEwIMa8TaMStzHe_1Gqb7hKPJZO/s16000/WWDJ.Bwana%20Johnny.passaic.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">clipping of a <b>Hackensack</b> newspaper announcing a 3-day '<b>rock-a-thon</b>' starting on Friday, <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1st October 1971</span></b> through Sunday, <b>3rd October 1971</b>, sponsored by the Bergen & Passaic counties. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Bwana Johnny</b>, popular DJ and music director of <b>WWDJ</b> from <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1971</span></b> to <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1973</span></b>, whose real name was <b>Ricky Johnson</b>, was born on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">29 August 1946</span></b>, in Portland, Washington. After working as DJ & music director throughout the USA, Bwana died of heart failure and diabetes on <b>28 October 2005</b>, in Mercer Island, WA.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRzWFf8_JTNTrWaqTzGOGCorhsGQQFoZBHHtyjDM4Cbh2wssSnOfH6tIr9WNp0UjdBp3_4ZmL3SAU9M9sLlmFlPVQZcacvSf9NjDmyxBf3arS_I__UJ3b87YaZYIMU3TzfkhOumuzeHH6tOV6ENNRh9ay2lO-0tVHrZQziT_Xo81BCmdt8ygQsJtPSqO1/s530/WWDJ.Bwana.1971.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="371" data-original-width="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRzWFf8_JTNTrWaqTzGOGCorhsGQQFoZBHHtyjDM4Cbh2wssSnOfH6tIr9WNp0UjdBp3_4ZmL3SAU9M9sLlmFlPVQZcacvSf9NjDmyxBf3arS_I__UJ3b87YaZYIMU3TzfkhOumuzeHH6tOV6ENNRh9ay2lO-0tVHrZQziT_Xo81BCmdt8ygQsJtPSqO1/s16000/WWDJ.Bwana.1971.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>23rd November</b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1971</span></b>. </div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-38183624805070241372022-10-08T13:39:00.005-07:002022-10-08T13:46:03.315-07:00WCFL - Chicago, 26 August 1971<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipX_nTIRjji3-plppxRmuNGWZuecAbt6s_ssve-d8Vk-reXy6KjuE-aWCwwM1cgGlK0MfPO5AGGJmvGgco8C2U6ql25imDT1WtRmaOmf2Sx1Je2fAjA9MAGpJKyMGBraZ_7FOh7CmkMinXA7fAAjMe4JmIMRdzIkfgiA5BDVdXBunsSsvOytcYNeT6Lw/s599/R-7141192-1434680694-6891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="599" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipX_nTIRjji3-plppxRmuNGWZuecAbt6s_ssve-d8Vk-reXy6KjuE-aWCwwM1cgGlK0MfPO5AGGJmvGgco8C2U6ql25imDT1WtRmaOmf2Sx1Je2fAjA9MAGpJKyMGBraZ_7FOh7CmkMinXA7fAAjMe4JmIMRdzIkfgiA5BDVdXBunsSsvOytcYNeT6Lw/w400-h398/R-7141192-1434680694-6891.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">1. <b><span style="color: #01ffff;">Uncle Arbert / Admiral Halsey</span></b> - <b><span style="color: #01ffff;">Paul & Linda McCartney</span></b> (Apple)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">2. Maybe tomorrow - Jackson Five (Motown) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">3. Rings - Cymarron (Entrance) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">4. Wedding song (There is love) - Paul Stockley (WB)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">5. Smiling faces sometimes - The Undisputed Truth (Motown) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">6. Won't get fooled again - The Who (Decca)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">7. Spanish Harlem - Aretha Franklin (Atlantic)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">8. Ain't no sunshine - Bill Withers (Sussex)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">9. Take me home, country roads - John Denver (RCA)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">10. Resurrection shuffle - Ashton, Gardner & Dyke (Capitol)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">11. Liar - 3 Dog Night (Dunhill)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">12. Mother freedom - Bread (Elektra)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">13. Mercy, mercy me - Marvin Gaye (Motown)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">14. Go away little girl - Donny Osmond (MGM)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">15. I just want to celebrate - Rare Earth (Motown)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">16. Never ending song of love - Delany & Bonnie (Atlantic) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">17. Watcha see is watcha get - Dramatics (Volt) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">18. The night they drove Old Dixie down - Joan Baez (Vanguard)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">19. Woke up in love this morning - Partridge Family (Bell) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">20. Roll on - The New Colony Six (Sunlight Records) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">21. Riders on the storm - The Doors (Elektra)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">22. Moon shadow - Cat Stevens (A&M)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">23. Sweet hitchhiker - Creedence Clearwater Revival (Fantasy)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">24. Mr Big Stuff - Jean Knight (Stax)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">25. Bangla-Desh - George Harrison (Apple) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">26. Indian Reservation - The Raiders (Columbia)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">27. I ain't got time anymore - The Glass Bottle (Atco)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">28. Stagger Lee - Tommy Roe (ABC)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">29. How can you mend a broken heart? - Bee Gees (Atco)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">30. Marianne - Stephen Stills (Atlantic)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">31. Don't pull your love - Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds (Dunhill) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">32. Take me girl, I'm ready - Jr. Walker & The All Star (Tamla-Motown)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">33. Beginnings - Chicago (Columbia)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">34. I've found someone of my own - Free Movement (Decca)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">35. <b>Funky Nassau</b> - <b>Beginning of the End</b> (Alston) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">WCFL - Chicago 26 August 1971. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #ffa400; font-family: arial;"><b>A L B U M S </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">1. <b><span style="color: #01ffff;">Carpenters</span></b> (A&M)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">2. Every picture tells a story - Rod Stewart (Mercury) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">3. Tapestry - Carole King (Ode)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">4. Ram - Paul & Linda McCartney (Apple)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">5. Every good boy deserves favour - Moody Blues (Threshold-London)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">6. Who's next? - The Who (Decca)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">7. Mud Slide Slim - James Taylor (WB)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">8. B, S & T - Blood, Sweat & Tears (Columbia)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">9. Stephen Stills no.2 (Atlantic) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">10. Blue - Joni Mitchell (Reprise) </span></p><div><br /></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-65145592656471955862022-07-07T09:55:00.018-07:002022-07-08T12:40:09.302-07:00Joel Whitburn 1939-2022<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEwPhk8Y-UGAQvOi4atlcwM88NbVEnHhys6GwISa_6JGTRd4bSzRrGHlfObnEwCKo0zH0xjE7_Tibksq5Wyx6TLmBR2oFxtcWRUXwRl8Bl0dIWagdi_UZdKunhRiRkScMLqRhRbLsCQO_Ql6Q0vXreyerz41fnYTvfshYVOso4NjBvjL7K6Qer7v-zA/s1024/16whitburn-image1-jumbo.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEwPhk8Y-UGAQvOi4atlcwM88NbVEnHhys6GwISa_6JGTRd4bSzRrGHlfObnEwCKo0zH0xjE7_Tibksq5Wyx6TLmBR2oFxtcWRUXwRl8Bl0dIWagdi_UZdKunhRiRkScMLqRhRbLsCQO_Ql6Q0vXreyerz41fnYTvfshYVOso4NjBvjL7K6Qer7v-zA/w640-h427/16whitburn-image1-jumbo.webp" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Joel Whitburn</span></b>, tireless researcher of music charts, dies at 82</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His numerous books delved deeply into the <b>Billboard charts</b>, developing what an admirer called “the de facto <b>history of recorded music</b>.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">By Richard Sandomir & </span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">Jim Higgins at jim.higgins@jrn.com</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">17 June 2022</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Joel Whitburn, who relentlessly mined Billboard’s music charts to fill reference books that tell the statistical stories of pop, rock, country, R&B, hip-hop and dance hits since 1940, died on Tuesday, <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">14 June 2022</span></b>, at his home in Menomonee Falls, Wis. He was 82.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His death was confirmed by <b>Paul Haney</b>, a friend, <b>researcher and editor</b> at Record Research, Mr. Whitburn’s <b>publishing company</b>. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">He "passed away peacefully overnight" on 14 June 2022, following serious recent health issues. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Whitburn was a <b>music lover</b> whose personal collection — meticulously curated in his basement and, later, in a vault — totals more than 200,000 records, including every single ever to make a Billboard chart.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I go in that library alone — all these records — and it’s like they’re all my old friends,” he said in an interview with The Minneapolis Star Tribune in <b>1986</b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Whitburn published nearly 300 books (counting updated editions), most of them highly detailed chart histories of hit records and albums. He started cataloging records on index cards and turned that project into his first volume, “Top Pop Singles,” published in <b>1970</b>. Computers came much later.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Disc jockeys and record collectors were among his first customers. But his books also became important additions to other music fans’ libraries. Nearly all used <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Billboard charts</span></b>, but Mr. Whitburn also dug into those that were published by the trade magazines <b>Cash Box</b>, <b>Record World</b> and <b>Radio & Records</b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;">“I’m just a huge music fan, and I love the charts,” Mr. Whitburn once said. “I enjoy following artists’ success. There’s just a joy in that.”Credit...Adam Ryan Morris, for Milwaukee Magazine.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“He had a profound impact on the music industry as a whole,” Silvio Pietroluongo, Billboard’s senior vice president of charts and data development, said in a phone interview. “He was the first person to catalog the history of charted music, and by doing so it became the de facto history of recorded music.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He added, “Joel’s chronicling of the <b>Hot 100</b> gave it a significant stamp of approval nationally.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His books, with generic titles and alphabetical listings by artist or group, covered vast musical territory: “Top R&B Singles, 1942-2016,” “Hit Country Records, 1954-1982,” “Across the Charts: The Sixties.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The ninth edition of “The Billboard Book of Top 40 Hits” (2010) listed 52 Beatles songs, with the dates each song entered the Top 40, from the first (“I Want to Hold Your Hand” and “I Saw Her Standing There” on Jan. 25, 1964) to the last (“Real Love,” made by the surviving Beatles from demos cut by John Lennon, on March 23, 1996); their peak chart positions; how long the songs stayed on the chart; how long they remained in the No. 1, No. 2 or No. 3 spot; informational nuggets (like the fact that “Please Please Me,” the band’s fourth Top 40 hit, was recorded in 1962); and the record label (usually Capitol, later Apple, but also a few others in the early days).</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div>Here's an example of the clout of pop music chart historian Joel Whitburn. When he met <b>Elton</b> <b>John</b>, Whitburn told a Billboard podcast interviewer in 2016, he tried to give the famous singer one of his books. </div><div><br /></div><div>“Oh, I got all your stuff, Joel,” Sir Elton replied.</div></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He also published books containing a given decade’s worth of charts.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In his review of “Top Pop Singles, 1955-2006” (2007), the Los Angeles Times pop music critic Robert Hilburn noted that Mr. Whitburn augmented his updates to the book with new elements. “This time,” he wrote, “he borrows a page from baseball batting averages and assigns a ‘hit average’ to recording artists.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Whitburn explained his fascination with <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Billboard’s charts</span></b> — and the reason for his venture’s success — in an interview with that magazine in 2014.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I’m just a huge music fan, and I love the charts,” he said. “I enjoy following artists’ success. There’s just a joy in that. It’s a weekly thrill. And there are millions more like me all over the world.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Joel Carver Whitburn</span></b> was born on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">29 November 1939</span></b>, in Wauwatosa, Wis. His father, Russell, worked for a local electrical company. His mother, Ruth (Bird) Whitburn, was a homemaker.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Joel was already a music lover when, at <b>age 12</b>, he saw copies of Billboard for sale at a bus station in Milwaukee. His mother gave him a quarter to buy it, and while reading it at home he was gobsmacked by the information it offered.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“All of a sudden, I knew what the No. 1 song in the nation was,” he said in an interview in 2009 with the music journalist Larry LeBlanc for the entertainment website CelebrityAccess. “I had no idea that there was a chart that told you that information.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He later became a subscriber, and he held on to every issue.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Whitburn attended <b>Elmhurst College</b> (now University) in <b>Illinois</b> and the <b>University of</b> <b>Wisconsin</b>, <b>Milwaukee</b>, but did not graduate. He worked at several jobs before he was hired to represent <b>RCA Records</b>, having told a company distributor in Milwaukee how much he loved music. He was told of a new venture featuring <b>eight-track tapes</b> and got a job setting up eight-track departments at stores in Wisconsin and Illinois. While working for RCA, he met artists like <b>Chet Atkins</b> and Charley Pride.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div>Whitburn grew up in <b>Menomonee Falls</b>, turned his passion for music and fascination with the Billboard charts into a research and publishing behemoth that served music industry professionals and fans alike with books of organized data and trivia. If you wanted to know how many hits Elton John, Elvis Presley, or The Beatlesi ever had, Whitburn was your guy. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I was at the perfect age, 14 or 15, when rock and roll broke," he told interviewer Larry LeBlanc in a 2009 interview, describing his youthful passion for music. "I was able to go down once a week and buy a record. I had to make that awful decision of what record do I buy this week, and what records do I leave out until next week." </div><div><br /></div><div>Whitburn began reading <b>Billboard</b>, the music and entertainment industry trade magazine. In particular, he was fascinated with Billboard's weekly charts of the most popular records. </div><div><br /></div><div>Decades before the internet, spreadsheets and personal computers, Whitburn kept track of each week's top recordings. When Billboard launched its <b>Hot 100 chart</b> in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1958</span></b>, he began <b>logging</b> detailed <b>info</b> about every listed song on<b> 3-by-5-inch index cards</b>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Working in record distribution for RCA in the 1960s, Whitburn impressed radio staffers with the information he had. "They all said it would be a godsend to have that information at their fingertips, because there was nothing available,” he told Billboard in an interview.</div><div><br /></div><div>Seeing the opportunity, he quit his RCA job, founded <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Record Research</span></b> in <b>Menomonee Falls</b>, and published his first book "<b>Top Pop Records</b>," in <b>1970</b>. That book evolved into "Top Pop Singles," the flagship publication of Record Research, Haney said. </div></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By then he was deep into his Billboard research as a hobby, using stacks of the magazines that he had collected since <b>1954</b>. He focused his work on the <b>Hot 100 chart</b>, which began in <b>1958</b>, jotting down artists’ names and record information on index cards.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“The first card I wrote up,” he told Mr. LeBlanc, was ‘Nelson, Ricky, “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Poor Little Fool</span></b>.”’ That was the first No. 1 song on the first Hot 100.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When the first edition of “</span><b style="font-family: arial;">Top Pop Singles</b><span style="font-family: arial;">” was completed in 1970, he took out a tiny <b>advertisement</b> in Billboard that promised buyers a <b>history of the Hot 100</b>. Hal Cook, the magazine’s publisher, spotted the ad and called Mr. Whitburn.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“You can’t be using the Hot 100 in an ad,” Mr. Whitburn, in the 2014 interview, recalled Mr. Cook telling him. “Not without our permission.” Rather than threaten Mr. Whitburn with a lawsuit, Mr. Cook asked to see the book.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Two weeks later, Mr. Whitburn said, Mr. Cook called. “He said: ‘Joel, we got the book. It’s amazing. We love it.’” And he conceded that Billboard’s attempts to develop a similar book had failed. He paid for Mr. Whitburn and his wife, Fran, to come to Los Angeles.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After three days, Mr. Whitburn returned home with a 26-page licensing agreement that gave him the <b>exclusive right to use</b> the <b>Billboard charts</b> in his books, in return for royalties he would pay Billboard.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">With that permission, Mr. Whitburn built an empire of music research unlike any other.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;">Mr. Whitburn’s books “had a profound impact on the music industry as a whole,” an executive of Billboard magazine said. “Joel’s chronicling of the Hot 100 gave it a significant stamp of approval nationally.”Credit...Adam Ryan Morris, for Milwaukee Magazine.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He is survived by his <b>wife</b>, Frances (Mudgett) Whitburn; his <b>daughter</b>, Kim Bloxdorf, a vice president at Record Research; his <b>sisters</b>, Joyce Riehl and Julie Rae Niermeyer; his <b>brothers</b>, Charles and David; two <b>grandchildren</b>; and two great-grandchildren.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The veteran disc jockey Scott Shannon, currently heard on WCBS-FM in New York, said he bought his first copy of “Top Pop Singles” when he was working at a radio station in Mobile, Ala., in the early 1970s. He has bought some of the updated editions since, keeping one copy at the station and one at home.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“There was no other place to go for information about artists, and I wanted to be the authority on the music we were playing at the time,” Mr. Shannon said in a phone interview. “If you use it properly, you sound smarter than you are to the listener and sharper than the next jock.”</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He was no one-hit wonder. Counting successive editions of works such as "Top Pop Singles," Whitburn and Record Research are believed to have published nearly 300 books. Whitburn also tapped his chart knowledge to produce some 150 "Billboard Top Hits" compilation CDs for Rhino Records. </span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div><br /></div><div>His careful compilation of chart data made his work go-to references — and stymied charlatans. </div><div><br /></div><div>"His accurate reporting also made it more difficult for publicists and labels to credibly fudge the chart achievements of their artists, a notoriously common practice in the early 1970s," Andrew Unterberger wrote in a Billboard obituary article.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whitburn's personal music collection, stored at his home, added up to <b>200,000 singles</b>, albums and CDs, Haney confirmed. That collection includes every record ever listed in the Billboard Hot 100, and every record listed in rival and defunct charts.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a 2014 interview with the Journal Sentinel, he said that he used his collection as a primary source of accurate information on things like label names and B-sides.</div><div><br /></div><div>At <b>6 feet 6 inches tall</b>, Whitburn <b>played basketball</b> for <b>Menomonee Falls High School </b>as well as Elmhurt College in Illinois. Whitburn was inducted into the Menomonee Falls High School Fine Arts Hall of Fame in 2015. He was also a voting member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whitburn's <b>daughter</b> <b>Kim Bloxdorf</b>, a vice president at <b>Record Research</b>, will continue running the company. Haney, an editor and researcher there for 30 years, and Brent Olynick, who's worked there for more than four decades, will assist her, Haney said. </div><div><br /></div><div>Whitburn was an easy boss who <b>trusted employees</b> to get the job done, Haney said. But he was also passionate about detail and a stickler for accuracy. "If I didn't get something exactly correct, I would hear about it," Haney added.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some of Haney's favorite memories are of sitting in Whitburn's office for half an hour or hour, talking about charts and music. "He was really like a father figure to me," he said.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whitburn's survivors include his <b>wife</b> of 58 years, <b>Frances</b>; his <b>daughter Kim</b>; his sisters, Joyce Riehl and Julie Rae Niermeyer; his brothers, Charles and David; two grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. </div><div><br /></div><div>Visitation will begin at 1 p.m. June 24 at Northbrook Church, 4014 WI-167, Richfield, with service at 3 p.m. Contact Jim Higgins at jim.higgins@jrn.com. Follow him on Twitter at @jhiggy.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: arial;">Richard Sandomir is an obituaries writer. He previously wrote about sports media and sports business. He is also the author of several books, including “The Pride of the Yankees: Lou Gehrig, Gary Cooper and the Making of a Classic.” @RichSandomir; </span><span style="font-family: arial;">A version of this article appears in print on 19 June 2022, Section A, Page 23 of the New York Times.</span></div></div></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8pjVhqiA7EsoZnxx9csvRDgf1oizwZttzn0yxjblscQgEEax2Roj8wfALHt8QRqAcAR2GZgi8cwu6aThXAvuHszoSg_ngbWZfmNpOwuC_bwLEi6ETueQG5TBvniBYurCJdtXdpQHWdV5SeI6SCbZ_wYHBUffeotIqEzZv6eeBEhYqYpqGYu57UMmPg/s1024/16whitburn-image4-jumbo.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8pjVhqiA7EsoZnxx9csvRDgf1oizwZttzn0yxjblscQgEEax2Roj8wfALHt8QRqAcAR2GZgi8cwu6aThXAvuHszoSg_ngbWZfmNpOwuC_bwLEi6ETueQG5TBvniBYurCJdtXdpQHWdV5SeI6SCbZ_wYHBUffeotIqEzZv6eeBEhYqYpqGYu57UMmPg/w640-h427/16whitburn-image4-jumbo.webp" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Joel Whitburn's inner sanctum... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeY71-fUmc0yjsrwpQVPlLlDIDlxKUq3uc2ZSS-IlIDNsg-2j2TNPRPp3nGjywnXuXkLLS56NhMa7TN9DRW-VFz4ktLkCriUtGcKmNR85WrpyaKHJ-yEEirqmuUZBJZ5rU5thk8LZFpSDfEQ47CjjBlmFmUR6FdBH4hORTjhbvKOSDdLnj0eC8mx2eg/s1024/16whitburn-image3-jumbo.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeY71-fUmc0yjsrwpQVPlLlDIDlxKUq3uc2ZSS-IlIDNsg-2j2TNPRPp3nGjywnXuXkLLS56NhMa7TN9DRW-VFz4ktLkCriUtGcKmNR85WrpyaKHJ-yEEirqmuUZBJZ5rU5thk8LZFpSDfEQ47CjjBlmFmUR6FdBH4hORTjhbvKOSDdLnj0eC8mx2eg/w640-h427/16whitburn-image3-jumbo.webp" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Joel at work at home... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUergtL1YtvIaxfp8ZpipW1TTor5xOSpWQG-E6CgU4712EXFp5HdUFXsfk9m6HUtkRi5YE540cMrAJH4z3fMdebkAbPr9HfCkZkpVY3Kg3sBbNATj8-mPN63K11JGLBkvxi6K3r7MfEFP7xCBCdZgnJHC64-ozHjkj2T-8sP7pqcpVFuYCXiH4HzR73g/s565/merlin_25554119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="565" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUergtL1YtvIaxfp8ZpipW1TTor5xOSpWQG-E6CgU4712EXFp5HdUFXsfk9m6HUtkRi5YE540cMrAJH4z3fMdebkAbPr9HfCkZkpVY3Kg3sBbNATj8-mPN63K11JGLBkvxi6K3r7MfEFP7xCBCdZgnJHC64-ozHjkj2T-8sP7pqcpVFuYCXiH4HzR73g/s16000/merlin_25554119.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Joel Whitburn in earlier times...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYdvOvzmAAjr7KPxAlhY_uq1kGCvpr3IGg-RixB6jT9t5WVs2Ud3GtLbNS4OBS0drOrGfmzOa95ESqT043XpOfJtUX5yEXj6d-t3k5zGjQ91N41QECOuWxKGCBLJwrMOKQDvh6X43lDGo5H0Q5TVk-3haBZhEuDkPT78R6y86t5BpXy1EHyd5XqJOuA/s660/Joel.Whitburn.Menomonee.Falls.native..webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="660" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYdvOvzmAAjr7KPxAlhY_uq1kGCvpr3IGg-RixB6jT9t5WVs2Ud3GtLbNS4OBS0drOrGfmzOa95ESqT043XpOfJtUX5yEXj6d-t3k5zGjQ91N41QECOuWxKGCBLJwrMOKQDvh6X43lDGo5H0Q5TVk-3haBZhEuDkPT78R6y86t5BpXy1EHyd5XqJOuA/w640-h420/Joel.Whitburn.Menomonee.Falls.native..webp" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnHDQ1vp04jZfgXMLnPcczq23KVbc7EezO30HEwujEKhTZiScBHxOtVVw9SN9eghKFRtZhmRxezQD2MwMT2V8A-PqJt6to00PhjgU2GxAUpBijax0tKCnwBVA99RSj3knmrtVQf9ATrmM2o7pbZQTcDXHiNaiIf0WaalEfZUCciRms94k-yCKst9k9w/s920/Joel.11.July.1990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="638" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnHDQ1vp04jZfgXMLnPcczq23KVbc7EezO30HEwujEKhTZiScBHxOtVVw9SN9eghKFRtZhmRxezQD2MwMT2V8A-PqJt6to00PhjgU2GxAUpBijax0tKCnwBVA99RSj3knmrtVQf9ATrmM2o7pbZQTcDXHiNaiIf0WaalEfZUCciRms94k-yCKst9k9w/w444-h640/Joel.11.July.1990.jpg" width="444" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Whitburn on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">11 July 1990</span></b>. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim76GreTQ1Yp6cY_Oc-RfBjUj-DIB0vaa8v0L9S7cwu5JrpcryRRPEykka2rtgPNCKEC6_fkrEvFR0Ooak2v1wP6CVDzlYwvyJfbIcDyVrMG5pjqQoIrRzDL9HKrR-fy6JyHpKSBFnrtfgGMf1XC45XBK89mlLuv8OWCsUNxE7_oEfSMaCfao5ufTaXA/s1024/16whitburn-image6-jumbo.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim76GreTQ1Yp6cY_Oc-RfBjUj-DIB0vaa8v0L9S7cwu5JrpcryRRPEykka2rtgPNCKEC6_fkrEvFR0Ooak2v1wP6CVDzlYwvyJfbIcDyVrMG5pjqQoIrRzDL9HKrR-fy6JyHpKSBFnrtfgGMf1XC45XBK89mlLuv8OWCsUNxE7_oEfSMaCfao5ufTaXA/w640-h427/16whitburn-image6-jumbo.webp" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirD-eX9kfl5hEvaBvSXiVa3SYMI9wz6fYISzgQXB9fzwRD4nsNbs4YCBgo7AZf15BCTqAmvfmdcALv-u5RUFm7uixHrbLeHa5bgJrAi8C5ypHfdU9-scfX0nAollEQ5lFUj0hLF0m-6raXAOefqB_K9xba3SN5Qv7Mx3WmtwXCd2docF8E6UyeT4mpZA/s692/Whitburn%20(2).PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="548" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirD-eX9kfl5hEvaBvSXiVa3SYMI9wz6fYISzgQXB9fzwRD4nsNbs4YCBgo7AZf15BCTqAmvfmdcALv-u5RUFm7uixHrbLeHa5bgJrAi8C5ypHfdU9-scfX0nAollEQ5lFUj0hLF0m-6raXAOefqB_K9xba3SN5Qv7Mx3WmtwXCd2docF8E6UyeT4mpZA/w507-h640/Whitburn%20(2).PNG" width="507" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Joel Whitburn. </span></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-16914521133882721952021-12-26T02:26:00.023-08:002022-07-22T04:05:14.435-07:00Teen magazines <p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBe_ySYin-gEuDvbj3W0rXyG2sDdPNBtAZ_958FescdmzcrSVWRNH6RqHTIXcGFvPJZ5ZSa2Y6oOQHeRu0ux5llEvYDwbojvoEtdFsBCREu3ACdoUItTMnUCNiWHvZHpgyMSUt3pYtNTBn6FpEf6nJGALwLu1x3fWrExmzI_OuL-bTV_oSmeF-iOj8tA=s1660" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1660" data-original-width="1179" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBe_ySYin-gEuDvbj3W0rXyG2sDdPNBtAZ_958FescdmzcrSVWRNH6RqHTIXcGFvPJZ5ZSa2Y6oOQHeRu0ux5llEvYDwbojvoEtdFsBCREu3ACdoUItTMnUCNiWHvZHpgyMSUt3pYtNTBn6FpEf6nJGALwLu1x3fWrExmzI_OuL-bTV_oSmeF-iOj8tA=w284-h400" width="284" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>November <span style="color: #ffa400;">1958</span></b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3OPbvhaLZZ5c-3O-MbpdlEXgS8KNSi7OS9IeizM9nNm_CBVK61BY7fpVQUMYkp9DdyqNIhiVi66Iv3pDD3K2KtBvXNhyX7lnMy5sVQn-4vAYcta9XsId3qjpmWjE-iyR-rnaRlmsi3-XaUz8TiSDhjjVufbgyLzt8Hm91FL0jAM9RKuaCGnI_ZJOkdA=s1602" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1602" data-original-width="1165" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3OPbvhaLZZ5c-3O-MbpdlEXgS8KNSi7OS9IeizM9nNm_CBVK61BY7fpVQUMYkp9DdyqNIhiVi66Iv3pDD3K2KtBvXNhyX7lnMy5sVQn-4vAYcta9XsId3qjpmWjE-iyR-rnaRlmsi3-XaUz8TiSDhjjVufbgyLzt8Hm91FL0jAM9RKuaCGnI_ZJOkdA=w291-h400" width="291" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>May <span style="color: #ffa400;">1958</span></b></span>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEip5ptTv6lPIrQPd4GMZ-9Ko5xl5-rZzbN5Rj2mR1Je1aNnZ1crR85zQnHIhjfUNvZ2tXlYdozPMlDCUou0YR6k4lcmdzrwn56QdglYtJr2-pRIQl6zXbP2QspPCaVSvxZsMnwxGdRWpRit5StIRp4MYqbZ8-qLDKuiEfHMZf0BUpipxYNOHEvKiil1kw=s1630" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1630" data-original-width="1193" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEip5ptTv6lPIrQPd4GMZ-9Ko5xl5-rZzbN5Rj2mR1Je1aNnZ1crR85zQnHIhjfUNvZ2tXlYdozPMlDCUou0YR6k4lcmdzrwn56QdglYtJr2-pRIQl6zXbP2QspPCaVSvxZsMnwxGdRWpRit5StIRp4MYqbZ8-qLDKuiEfHMZf0BUpipxYNOHEvKiil1kw=w293-h400" width="293" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6mIfSnk3ktqEZ-zcsAcTOkx1PsCF1LOJyxsHvepyRZE1rva1eztNGiXRiK28VBh1FzKwJh7yj-5vzhmuV_Cxyu3DioV1FXIVB9pBtgtEiv_3tTr1IMVoQVMyCaIQ2qWRzC4yXZDbZkaom1J7j_E4sFm0tZn7VCUppSf3tYQhkwSyAE_7Kn4qQfL1WcA=s1626" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1626" data-original-width="1138" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6mIfSnk3ktqEZ-zcsAcTOkx1PsCF1LOJyxsHvepyRZE1rva1eztNGiXRiK28VBh1FzKwJh7yj-5vzhmuV_Cxyu3DioV1FXIVB9pBtgtEiv_3tTr1IMVoQVMyCaIQ2qWRzC4yXZDbZkaom1J7j_E4sFm0tZn7VCUppSf3tYQhkwSyAE_7Kn4qQfL1WcA=w280-h400" width="280" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'16 Magazine', <b>June <span style="color: #ffa400;">1960</span></b> / 'American Band Stand', <b>June <span style="color: #ffa400;">1960</span></b>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnugsnfGVq68lt9ZOqi1Mpj0Q3UjC5_m8C9wWawJcGjEh_mFERF3cKFLNYylEI5QAawWbHo1FbuTLZGr3ibLWWBwrPW1DjIoBsHo3E0r0CsQkK7_QCc81aKTIV5kOdDlj1oWuU6vuwswrPDOHO_9dbruqoyHeoZedo4EgVQMqWFx6KejDuATMzgIw1w/s1930/Brenda.16.mag.Sept.1960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1930" data-original-width="1452" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnugsnfGVq68lt9ZOqi1Mpj0Q3UjC5_m8C9wWawJcGjEh_mFERF3cKFLNYylEI5QAawWbHo1FbuTLZGr3ibLWWBwrPW1DjIoBsHo3E0r0CsQkK7_QCc81aKTIV5kOdDlj1oWuU6vuwswrPDOHO_9dbruqoyHeoZedo4EgVQMqWFx6KejDuATMzgIw1w/w301-h400/Brenda.16.mag.Sept.1960.jpg" width="301" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Brenda Lee at 16 Magazine, September 1960. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwLZFoWnI7hROfMHYMUP2VMkE5aBFYbBhpsdRLJek9J1Xe-PZjv1xxDOpU9doAOgVVCfW3EBrnmfM7Cpn2atYSicoXAWotkjgSN2JAbZs5p6v2M9d6cC16kBuhTh-4VMH4acEPBN0EuIegn6AK_lNBRqPlVkicdS80BMsYe4VV6soS7mlVmf3upxJ2Hw=s1246" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1246" data-original-width="949" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwLZFoWnI7hROfMHYMUP2VMkE5aBFYbBhpsdRLJek9J1Xe-PZjv1xxDOpU9doAOgVVCfW3EBrnmfM7Cpn2atYSicoXAWotkjgSN2JAbZs5p6v2M9d6cC16kBuhTh-4VMH4acEPBN0EuIegn6AK_lNBRqPlVkicdS80BMsYe4VV6soS7mlVmf3upxJ2Hw=w305-h400" width="305" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlY0xDw_Jo-xTmXsymdsPbpP_tbmUTx3kqCAp8J3d0EJnrAnokdjA6-YrHaA_GxZA-XG8mDyQsboBeHfYOlxIPtaLYdZknAumgUKaHTnUkcxllfshLLawPzZGq7r54Cpbi-qv5_D72YhEkQBcF7s9vk_zUkT4uIwqrBqH4CsNv-AAt8RXiGoQvl3ve4w=s670" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="670" data-original-width="431" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlY0xDw_Jo-xTmXsymdsPbpP_tbmUTx3kqCAp8J3d0EJnrAnokdjA6-YrHaA_GxZA-XG8mDyQsboBeHfYOlxIPtaLYdZknAumgUKaHTnUkcxllfshLLawPzZGq7r54Cpbi-qv5_D72YhEkQBcF7s9vk_zUkT4uIwqrBqH4CsNv-AAt8RXiGoQvl3ve4w=w257-h400" width="257" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">'Dig' <b>December <span style="color: #ffa400;">1960</span></b> (Bobby Rydell) / Billy Wilder's 'The apartment', <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1960</span></b>.</span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijCXPYYqyfX0RQVyokHNBLTqu_RrQGOQ-ZrxLv9DdHwluplOpgb6cZBHIJFfItXEwwDWArj-1wVb_kyPz_C0LhaPjYw-WoiwiklS_JsKV34LnVIUvyJC9yLihOyePb8ktdA-ro3JrePC3JCt3RY57r5mfBRe1W4KDvynIaify5deWb1ezBu_NhSrvAxg=s691" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="691" data-original-width="473" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijCXPYYqyfX0RQVyokHNBLTqu_RrQGOQ-ZrxLv9DdHwluplOpgb6cZBHIJFfItXEwwDWArj-1wVb_kyPz_C0LhaPjYw-WoiwiklS_JsKV34LnVIUvyJC9yLihOyePb8ktdA-ro3JrePC3JCt3RY57r5mfBRe1W4KDvynIaify5deWb1ezBu_NhSrvAxg=w274-h400" width="274" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Bobby Darin on Billboard, <b>19 July <span style="color: #ffa400;">1961</span></b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDx_SmjLssTazKQlUhMsOU82JmxKtlfgO6QsP4sScU1K4k8TulZzujdlwKksLCmNs385vITOxSwztgpF6EsAqqySafhIkQPcVG_AKZWqjszvDbRNMs1G7IDecxiyKZkTLDiLNn0qdDreucwb2EJuS4WA-jvMf3dPtx9-V9VT7tTZOTU1cr0gIklboL1A=s1431" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1431" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDx_SmjLssTazKQlUhMsOU82JmxKtlfgO6QsP4sScU1K4k8TulZzujdlwKksLCmNs385vITOxSwztgpF6EsAqqySafhIkQPcVG_AKZWqjszvDbRNMs1G7IDecxiyKZkTLDiLNn0qdDreucwb2EJuS4WA-jvMf3dPtx9-V9VT7tTZOTU1cr0gIklboL1A=w298-h400" width="298" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> Don & Phil Everly at 16 Magazine, </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>October <span style="color: #ffa400;">1961</span></b>.</span></div><div><p></p><p></p></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-12902962511116367222021-10-04T04:01:00.014-07:002021-10-04T10:03:29.239-07:00Sue Thompson (1925-2021) of 'Sad movies (Make me cry)' & 'Norman' <p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNU_BupWS1Q8G1l6goBhmdvDTW0WktW7lH_aH8sVJKLsSjGjgvKuCEmE1eEUSk6yszuO8qS9n8k4tScSlTIq9q4IYjLJz8-qiJsRriVRLT4u7idJUhv0aj-PtF00l7U0hw0SEjlsA-mOS/s800/sue-thompson-norman-1962-21+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNU_BupWS1Q8G1l6goBhmdvDTW0WktW7lH_aH8sVJKLsSjGjgvKuCEmE1eEUSk6yszuO8qS9n8k4tScSlTIq9q4IYjLJz8-qiJsRriVRLT4u7idJUhv0aj-PtF00l7U0hw0SEjlsA-mOS/w400-h400/sue-thompson-norman-1962-21+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Sue Thompson, who after more than a decade of moderate sucess as a country singer found pop stardom in the early 1960s with hook-laden novelty hits like 'Sad movies (Make me cry)' and 'Norman', died on Thursday, </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">23rd September 2021</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">, at the home of her daughter and care-giver Julie Jennings, in Pahrump, Nevada. She was 96. Her son, Greg Penny, said the cause was complications of Alzheimer's disease. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">With a clear, somewhat girlish voice that brought sass to humorous ditties but that could also be used to good effect , Ms Thompson was part of a wave of female vocalists, like Connie Francis and Brenda Lee, who had hits in the late 50s and early 60s. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Her breakthrough came when she was paired with the songwriter John D.Loudermilk, who wrote her first big hit, 'Sad movies', a done-me-wrong tune about a woman who goes to a movie alone when her boyfriend says he has to work late, only to see him walk in with her best friend on his arms. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Sad movies</span></b> (<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Make me cry</span></b>') got to <b># 5</b> at Billboard's Hot 100 on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">23rd October 1961</span></b>. Four months later, with another Loudermilk song '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Norman</span></b>', in which she turned that rather unglamorous male name into an earworm ('Norman, Norman my love', Ms Thompson cooed in the chorus, surrounding the name with ooh and hmms) went even higher getting to <b># 3, on <span style="color: #ffa400;">24 February 1962</span></b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Thompson never made the Top 10 again. Her follow-up to 'Norman' was a ballad, '<b>Have a</b> <b>good time</b>', </span><span style="font-family: arial;">a song, by Boudleaux and Felice Bryant, Tony Bennett recorded a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">decade earlier. It reached <b># 30</b> on <b>21st July 1962</b>. Before 1962 was over, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr Loudermilk wrote an elopement novelty, '</span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">James</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> (</span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Hold the ladder steady</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">)' which got to </span><b style="font-family: arial;"># 17</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> on </span><b style="font-family: arial;">20 October 1962</b><span style="font-family: arial;">. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The 1964 British Invasion soon eclipsed this kind of light fare, but Ms. Thompson had </span><span style="font-family: arial;">one more pop success with Mr. Loudermilk’s “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Paper Tiger</span></b>” which got to <b># 23</b> on <b>6 February 1965</b>. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1966 she traveled to Vietnam to entertain the troops. Because she was </span><span style="font-family: arial;">accompanied by only a trio, she could go to more remote bases than bigger </span><span style="font-family: arial;">U.S.O. acts, exposing her to greater danger.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Tonight we are at Can Tho, a huge American air base,” she wrote to her </span><span style="font-family: arial;">parents. “You can see the fighting (flashes from guns), hear the mortars, etc.” </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“We’re fairly secure most of the time,” she continued, “but must be aware that </span><span style="font-family: arial;">things can pop right in our midst.” </span><span style="font-family: arial;">The trip left her shaken. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“A heartbreaking — and heartwarming — experience,” she wrote. “I will never </span><span style="font-family: arial;">be the same. I saw and learned unbelievable things.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Penny said that his mother was ill for weeks afterward, and that she long </span><span style="font-family: arial;">suspected that she had been exposed to Agent Orange. She underwent a sort of </span><span style="font-family: arial;">awakening, he said, becoming a vegetarian and developing an interest in </span><span style="font-family: arial;">spiritual traditions, Eastern as well as Western.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Despite becoming ill after the first trip, she went on other tours to entertain </span><span style="font-family: arial;">troops, including one in 1967, the next year, on which Mr. Penny, just a boy, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">accompanied her. They traveled to Japan, Hong Kong, the Philippines and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">elsewhere. Vietnam had also been on the itinerary, but that part of the trip never </span><span style="font-family: arial;">happened. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“I remember getting the communication while we were on the road in </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Okinawa,” Mr. Penny said in a phone interview. “They said it was just too </span><span style="font-family: arial;">dangerous.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When Ms. Thompson returned to performing stateside, she also returned to </span><span style="font-family: arial;">country music, releasing a number of records — including a string recorded </span><span style="font-family: arial;">with Don Gibson — and leaving behind the little-girl sound of her hits.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I don’t want to be ‘itty bitty’ anymore,” she told The Times of San Mateo, Calif., </span><span style="font-family: arial;">in 1974, when she was already 49. “I want to project love and convey a more mature sound and a more </span><span style="font-family: arial;">meaningful message.” Country music, she said, was a better vehicle for that </span><span style="font-family: arial;">because “country fans pay more attention to what is being said in a song.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Eva Sue McKee</span></b> (she picked her stage name out of a phone book) was born on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">19 </span></b></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">July</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1925</span></b>, in Nevada, Mo. Her father, Vurl, was a labourer, and her mother, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Pearl Ova (Fields) McKee, was a nurse. In 1937, during the Depression, her </span><span style="font-family: arial;">parents moved to California to escape the <b>Dust Bowl</b>, settling north of </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Sacramento</b>. When she was in high school the family moved again, to <b>San Jose</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As a child Ms. Thompson was entranced by <b>Gene Autry</b>, and she grew up </span><span style="font-family: arial;">envisioning herself as a <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">singing cowgirl</span></b>. Her mother found her a secondhand </span><span style="font-family: arial;">guitar for her seventh birthday, and she performed at every opportunity as she </span><span style="font-family: arial;">went through high school.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1944 she married Tom Gamboa, and while he fought in World War II, she </span><span style="font-family: arial;">had their daughter, Ms. Jennings. She also worked in a defense factory, Mr. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Penny said.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Her wartime marriage ended in divorce in <b>1947</b>, but her singing career soon </span><span style="font-family: arial;">began in earnest. Ms. Thompson won a talent show at a San Jose theater, which </span><span style="font-family: arial;">led to appearances on local radio and television programs, including those of </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Dude Martin</b>, a <b>radio star</b> in the Bay Area who had a Western swing band, Dude </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Martin’s Roundup Gang.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the early 1950s she became the lead vocalist on a TV show that Mr. Martin </span><span style="font-family: arial;">had introduced in the Los Angeles market, and she cut several records with his </span><span style="font-family: arial;">band, including, in <b>1952</b>, one of the first versions of the ballad “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">You belong to m</span></b></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">e</span></b>.” Later that year it became a hit for <b>Jo</b> <b>Stafford</b>, and in the 1960s it was </span><span style="font-family: arial;">covered by the Duprees.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Thompson and Mr. Martin married in <b>December 1952</b>, but they divorced a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">year later, and Ms. Thompson soon married another Western swing star with </span><span style="font-family: arial;">his own local TV show, <b>Hank</b> <b>Penny</b>. That marriage ended in divorce in <b>1963</b>, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">but the two continued to perform together occasionally for decades.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The country records Ms. Thompson made on the <b>Mercury</b> label in the 1950s </span><span style="font-family: arial;">never gained much traction, but that changed when she signed with <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Hickory</span></b> </span><span style="font-family: arial;">early in 1961. “Angel, Angel,” another ballad by the Bryants, garnered some </span><span style="font-family: arial;">attention — Billboard compared it to the Brenda Lee hit “I Want to Be Wanted” </span><span style="font-family: arial;">— and then came “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Sad Movies</span></b>.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That breakthrough hit was something of an accident. In a 2010 interview on the </span><span style="font-family: arial;">South Australian radio show “The Doo Wop Corner,” Ms. Thompson said she </span><span style="font-family: arial;">recorded it only after another singer had decided not to. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“I inherited the song,” she said, “and I was really happy and excited when it </span><span style="font-family: arial;">turned out to be such a hit for me.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Even before her pop hits Ms. Thompson was a familiar sight on stages in </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Nashville and Nevada as well as on the country fair circuit, and the hits made </span><span style="font-family: arial;">her even more in demand in Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe, Reno, Nev., and elsewhere.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Gravitating between country and pop came easily. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“Most popular songs actually are country-and-western songs with a modern </span><span style="font-family: arial;">instrumental background,” she told The Reno Gazette-Journal in 1963.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Thompson said her favorite among the songs she recorded was “<b>You belong </b></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>to me</b>.” About a decade ago, when she was in her 80s, Greg Penny, a record </span><span style="font-family: arial;">producer who has worked with Elton John and other top stars, recorded her </span><span style="font-family: arial;">singing the song to a guitar accompaniment. Carmen Kaye, host of “The Doo </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Wop Corner,” gave the demo its radio premiere during the 2010 interview, Ms.</span><span style="font-family: arial;">Thompson still sounding sweet and clear.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Her fourth husband, Ted Serna, whom she had known in high school and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">married in 1993, died in 2013. In addition to Ms. Jennings and Mr. Penny, she is </span><span style="font-family: arial;">survived by eight grandchildren and 12 great-grandchildren.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Jennings, in a phone interview, told about a time when her mother, on tour </span><span style="font-family: arial;">in Vietnam, asked to visit soldiers in the infirmary who couldn’t come to her </span><span style="font-family: arial;">stage show. One badly injured young man, when introduced to her, said, “I don’t </span><span style="font-family: arial;">give a darn who’s here; I just want my mama.” Ms. Thompson sat with him for a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">long while, asking all about his mother, helping him conjure good memories.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Three years later,” Ms. Jennings said, “my mother was working in Hawaii, and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">he brought his mother in there and introduced her to my mom.”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Neil Genzlinger for The New York Times on </span><span style="font-family: arial;">28 September 2021.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHF_AiZxLf5kpzsVQ7EIZdrDWTCquHWvs1ASTEiKdrrpSBasoyV073A7Dx_qneKJNyKLyzDEiomjF88oTNeT3ydOhM0xXK6CoOzeUPYTTLDDzLSzELaVRefb2uUkp8YJXL36qEx0D72Rl/s784/sue-thompson-norman-funckler-3+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="778" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHF_AiZxLf5kpzsVQ7EIZdrDWTCquHWvs1ASTEiKdrrpSBasoyV073A7Dx_qneKJNyKLyzDEiomjF88oTNeT3ydOhM0xXK6CoOzeUPYTTLDDzLSzELaVRefb2uUkp8YJXL36qEx0D72Rl/w396-h400/sue-thompson-norman-funckler-3+%25282%2529.jpg" width="396" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: center;">a Dutch extended-play with 'Norman' / 'Angel, angel' / 'Sad movies' and 'Throwin' kisses'.</div></span><p></p></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-10407470072514754982021-08-23T12:40:00.009-07:002021-10-04T03:50:21.569-07:00Don Everly (1937-2021) of Everly Brothers dies at 84<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3uBFpJYUpywzqMzjNQEaHwWjOJdcr0yfKYQUfcjSXdMVsScafNbGoTS160TVbwPfbLTFobZWHOoNd17hccISbBKfIPdouU9VcvFAHeubZC4uct3Zy2MT4MXyDvJqoSIUAZzd3yJ-kJUY/s992/VB4GGD5WXDBUUPDJF7CNXZYZPM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="934" data-original-width="992" height="377" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3uBFpJYUpywzqMzjNQEaHwWjOJdcr0yfKYQUfcjSXdMVsScafNbGoTS160TVbwPfbLTFobZWHOoNd17hccISbBKfIPdouU9VcvFAHeubZC4uct3Zy2MT4MXyDvJqoSIUAZzd3yJ-kJUY/w400-h377/VB4GGD5WXDBUUPDJF7CNXZYZPM.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: center;">Phil is the blonde one; <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Don Everly</span></b>'s on the right. </div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Nashville, Tennessee - Don Everly, the elder of the two Everly Brothers, the groundbreaking duo whose fusion of Appalachian harmonies and a tighter, cleaner version of big-beat rock ’n’ roll made them harbingers of both folk-rock and country-rock, died on Saturday, 21st August 2021, at his home here. He was 84.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A family spokesman confirmed the death to The Los Angeles Times. No cause was given.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The most successful rock ’n’ roll act to emerge from Nashville in the 1950s, Mr. Everly and his brother, Phil, who died in 2014, once rivaled Elvis Presley and Pat Boone for airplay, placing an average of one single in the pop Top 10 every four months from 1957 to 1961.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On the strength of ardent two-minute teenage dramas like “<b>Wake up Little Susie</b>” and “<b>Cathy’s</b> <b>Clown</b>,” the duo all but single-handedly redefined what, stylistically and thematically, qualified as commercially viable music for the Nashville of their day. In the process they influenced generations of hitmakers, from British Invasion bands like the Beatles and the Hollies to the folk-rock duo Simon and Garfunkel and the Southern California country-rock band the Eagles.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1975 Linda Ronstadt had a Top 10 pop single with a declamatory version of the Everlys’ 1960 hit “<b>When will I be loved</b>.” Alternative-country forebears like Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris were likewise among the scores of popular musicians inspired by the duo’s enthralling mix of country and rhythm and blues.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Paul Simon, in an email interview with The Times the morning after Phil Everly’s death, wrote: “Phil and Don were the most beautiful sounding duo I ever heard. Both voices pristine and soulful. The Everlys were there at the crossroads of country and R&B. They witnessed and were part of the birth of rock 'n' roll.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Bye Bye Love,” with its tight harmonies, bluesy overtones and twanging rockabilly guitar, epitomized the brothers’ crossover approach, spending four weeks at No. 2 on the Billboard pop chart in 1957. It also reached the top spot on the country chart and the fifth spot on the R&B chart.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Art Garfunkel and Don Everly performed in Hyde Park, London, in 2004. Mr. Everly recorded several solo albums.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As with many of their early recordings, including the No. 1 pop hits “Bird dog” and “All I have to do is dream,” “Bye bye love” was written by the husband-and-wife team of Felice and Boudleaux Bryant and featured backing from Nashville’s finest session musicians.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Both brothers played acoustic guitar, with Don being regarded as a rhythmic innovator, but it was their intimate vocal blend that gave their records a distinctive and enduring quality. Don, who had the lower of the two voices, typically sang lead, with Phil singing a slightly higher but uncommonly close harmony part.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“It’s almost like we could read each other’s minds when we sang,” Mr. Everly told The Los Angeles Times shortly after his brother’s death.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The warmth of their vocals notwithstanding, the brothers’ relationship grew increasingly fraught as their career progressed. Their radio hits became scarcer as the ’60s wore on, and both men struggled with addiction. Don was hospitalized after taking an overdose of sleeping pills while the pair were on tour in Europe in 1962.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A decade later, after nearly 20 years on the road together, their longstanding tensions came to a head. Phil smashed his guitar and stormed offstage during a performance at Knott’s Berry Farm in Buena Park, Calif., in 1973, leaving Don to finish the set and announce the duo’s breakup.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“The Everly Brothers died 10 years ago,” he told the audience, marking the end of an era.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Isaac Donald Everly</span></b> was born on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1st February 1937</span></b>, in Brownie, Ky., not quite two years before his brother. Their mother, Margaret, and their father, Ike, a former coal miner, performed country music throughout the South and the Midwest before moving the family to Shenandoah, Iowa, in 1944. Shortly after their arrival there, “Little Donnie” and “Baby Boy Phil,” then ages 8 and 6, made their professional debut on a local radio station, KMA.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The family went on to perform on radio in Indiana and Tennessee before settling in Nashville in 1955, when the Everly brothers, now in their teens, were hired as songwriters by the publishing company Acuff-Rose. Two years later Wesley Rose of Acuff-Rose would help them secure a recording contract with Cadence Records, an independent label in New York, with which they had their initial success as artists.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Phil and Don Everly at the 10th annual Everly Brothers Homecoming concert in Central City, Ky., in 1997. The brothers had a fraught relationship and the act broke up in 1973, but they later reunited.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Phil and Don Everly at the 10th annual Everly Brothers Homecoming concert in Central City, Ky., in 1997. The brothers had a fraught relationship and the act broke up in 1973, but they later reunited.Credit...Suzanne Feliciano/Messenger-Inquirer, via Associated Press</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Don’s first break as a writer came with “Thou Shalt Not Steal,” a Top 20 country hit for Kitty Wells in 1954, as well as with songs recorded by Anita Carter and Justin Tubb. He also wrote, among other Everly Brothers hits, “(’Til) I Kissed You,” which reached the pop Top 10 in 1959, and “So Sad (To Watch Good Love Go Bad),” which did the same the next year. “Cathy’s Clown,” which he wrote with Phil, spent five weeks at the top of the pop chart in 1960.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That record was the pair’s first hit for Warner Bros., which signed them after they left Cadence over a dispute about royalty payments in 1960. They moved from Nashville to Southern California the next year.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Their subsequent lack of success in the United States — they continued to do well in England — could be attributed to any of a number of factors: the brothers’ simultaneous enlistment in the Marine Corps Reserve in 1961; their lack of access to material from the Bryants after their split with Cadence and Acuff-Rose; the meteoric rise of the Beatles, even though their harmonies on breakthrough hits like “Please Please Me” were modeled directly on those of the Everlys.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">They nevertheless continued to tour and record, releasing a series of influential albums for Warner Bros., notably “Roots,” a concept album that reckoned with the duo’s legacy and caught them up with the country-rock movement to which they gave shape.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Don also released a self-titled album on the Ode label in 1970 and made two more solo albums, “Sunset Towers” on Ode and “Brother Juke Box” on Hickory, after the Everlys split up.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1983 he and his brother reunited for a concert at the Royal Albert Hall in London, a show that was filmed for a documentary. The next year they recorded “EB84,” a studio album produced by the Welsh singer-guitarist Dave Edmunds. That project included the minor hit “On the Wings of a Nightingale,” written for the Everlys by Paul McCartney.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The duo released two more studio albums before the end of the decade. They were inducted as members of the inaugural class of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1986.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">They also received a Grammy Award for lifetime achievement in 1997 and were enshrined in the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2001.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 2003 they toured with Simon and Garfunkel, and in 2010 they appeared on an album by Don’s son, Edan Everly.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In an interview with The Los Angeles Times in 2014, Mr. Everly acknowledged his decades of conflict with his brother but recalled their intimate musical communion with pride.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“When Phil and I hit that one spot where I call it ‘The Everly Brothers,’” he said, “I don’t know where it is, ’cause it’s not me and it’s not him; it’s the two of us together.”</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauKzeLbLx2coECv5Z47W4OK1ciNkaI2ktidY90p2b4cc4uBu3Fdu3MieTEYP_0OmeGZcRsrzQVLw0bgB-oG3JyIHM7DFZD7-gn9uJ6ivvuqY9xQDvk_s_H6Y8E7wKKZbv-JxqKMxPVTYY/s960/TELEMMGLPICT000268721942_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqGgKs6dJbo-pYRjb7HrDhD-EF_BzZH9KgI5zMAB0l0FU.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="960" height="403" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauKzeLbLx2coECv5Z47W4OK1ciNkaI2ktidY90p2b4cc4uBu3Fdu3MieTEYP_0OmeGZcRsrzQVLw0bgB-oG3JyIHM7DFZD7-gn9uJ6ivvuqY9xQDvk_s_H6Y8E7wKKZbv-JxqKMxPVTYY/w640-h403/TELEMMGLPICT000268721942_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqGgKs6dJbo-pYRjb7HrDhD-EF_BzZH9KgI5zMAB0l0FU.webp" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: center;">Phil & Don Everly.</div></span>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-84767069138510312922021-07-27T13:16:00.017-07:002021-10-10T10:59:54.270-07:00Laura Nyro (1947-1997)<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_-wjqSjCxCwOmDz_5o88KlhJ53VAd5DrLF6pZcCE5QKHKEWo32Ed2GmCKNZb5t3zflZMUc_V5PJEt9oSSVj4ct9DYE7hapXTWI_4jKz_jvRA0gq-Dc66vNgWaqgpUzfRthx83MZVm1Sg/s620/Laura.Nyro.NY.1968+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="620" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_-wjqSjCxCwOmDz_5o88KlhJ53VAd5DrLF6pZcCE5QKHKEWo32Ed2GmCKNZb5t3zflZMUc_V5PJEt9oSSVj4ct9DYE7hapXTWI_4jKz_jvRA0gq-Dc66vNgWaqgpUzfRthx83MZVm1Sg/s16000/Laura.Nyro.NY.1968+%25282%2529.jpg" /></a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Laura Nyro in New York in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1968</span></b></span>. </div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Laura Nyro: the phenomenal <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">singers’ singer</span></b> the <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">60s overlooked</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Elton John</b> idolised her and she wrote hits for the likes of <b>Barbra Streisand</b>, but her musical ambitions were out of sync with the times. Now a new collection reveals her intense originality in full</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">by Richard Williams for The Guardian</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Tuesday, 27 July 2021 </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Whatever role Laura Nyro chose to play – earth mother, soul sister, angel of the Bronx subways – she committed to it. With a soaring, open-hearted voice and ingeniously crafted compositions, Nyro transformed a range of influences into her own kind of art song. She made vertiginous shifts from hushed reveries to ecstatic gospel-driven shout-ups with an intensity and a courage that, as <b>Elton John</b> would point out, left its mark on many contemporaries who achieved greater commercial success.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As the music of the 1960s reached a climax, no one else merged the new songwriting freedoms pioneered by Bob Dylan with the pop sensibility of the Brill Building tunesmiths to such intriguing effect. As a teenager, she wrote "<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">And when I die</span></b>" and "<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Stoney End</span></b>", songs that became hits for <b>Blood Sweat & Tears</b> and <b>Barbra Streisand</b>. Her own enigmatically titled albums – "<b>Eli and the Thirteenth Confession</b>", "<b>New York Tendaberry</b>", "<b>Christmas</b> <b>and the Beads of Sweat</b>" – showed a precociously sophisticated sensibility.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Later, rejecting commercial pressures, she would help push the boundaries of popular music by writing songs celebrating motherhood, female sexuality and her menstrual cycle. In the hearts of admirers, she <b>kindled a loyalty</b> fierce enough to withstand the <b>semi-obscurity</b> into which she had fallen by the time of <b>her death</b> from ovarian cancer in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1997</span></b>, at 49. But a new generation will this month get to hear Nyro’s music, as American Dreamer, a box set containing her first seven albums and an eighth disc of rarities and live tracks, is released.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The dimming of her fame had been gradual and, to an extent, self-actuated. If her early songs seemed to give listeners the thrill of overhearing her innermost thoughts, she lived her adult life edging towards the spotlight before withdrawing to cope with personal upheavals, then re-emerging years later with songs that confounded expectations by explicitly affirming new commitments to radical feminism, animal rights and environmental activism.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She made her anticipated UK debut at London’s Royal Festival Hall in <b>1971</b>, with her then-boyfriend, <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Jackson Browne</span></b>, as the support act. Her final visit, 23 years later, was to the Union Chapel in Islington, a more intimate affair, where she performed as if to family or friends, bathed in an outpouring of warmth. She had become the property of true believers, a following that expanded again as new generations discovered her inspiring originality.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Laurel Canyon hippy chic was never her costume. She was a New Yorker, with Broadway in her soul</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Early admirers had included not only female counterparts such as Rickie Lee Jones and Suzanne Vega but also Todd Rundgren (“I stopped writing songs like the Who and started writing songs like Laura Nyro”) and Elton John (“I idolised her. The soul, the passion, the out-and-out audacity … like nothing I’d ever heard before”). But to the music industry, there was the enduring problem of who, or what, she really was and where she belonged.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the late 1960s, helped by a partnership with the ambitious young agent <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">David Geffen</span></b>, who became <b>her manager</b>, she was one of a handful of rising singer-songwriters. But Laurel Canyon hippy chic was never her costume. She had not emerged from the folk or rock traditions. She was a <b>New Yorker</b>, with <b>Broadway</b> and the <b>Brill Building</b> in her soul. Even when Browne was her boyfriend, part of her belonged to a different, pre-Beatles world.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That dissonance was apparent in her much-discussed appearance alongside the likes of the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane at the <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1967</span></b> <b>Monterey pop festival, </b>a landmark event for the emerging counterculture. Jimi Hendrix set fire to his guitar and the Who destroyed their stage equipment, with career-defining impact in both cases. The mohair-suited <b>Otis Redding</b>, seemingly out of place, captivated what he called “the love crowd”. <b>Janis Joplin</b> so impressed <b>Clive Davis</b>, the president of Columbia Records, that she and her band, Big Brother and the Holding Company, were signed on the spot.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Nyro had made an effort. She took the stage in a sleeveless black gown, clutching the microphone with pale fingers that ended in long red-painted nails. She brought with her two female backing singers in matching dresses and a well-rehearsed band consisting of top Hollywood session men. The decision not to accompany herself on the piano robbed her of a certain credibility with this audience, and her songs sometimes seemed to be addressed elsewhere. “Kisses and love won’t carry me / ‘<b>Til you marry me, Bill</b>” – from "<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Wedding Bell</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Blues</span></b>" – was a take on romance the audience associated with their parents’ generation.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Although some found her performance overwrought and uncomfortable, she was not booed off as legend has it. Footage shot by the documentary film-maker <b>D.A. Pennebaker</b> shows that she was being listened to as she drew out the a cappella delivery of Poverty Train’s climax for maximum effect: “Getting off on sweet cocaine / It feels so good …” But the underlying vibe was wrong, and she was spooked.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It didn’t help that when other people had hits with her songs, they were the wrong people. The <b>Fifth Dimension</b> ('Wedding Bell Blues') were a supper-club soul act of the highest class. <b>Barbra Streisand</b> ('Stoney End') was Broadway royalty, <b>Three Dog Night</b> ('Eli's coming'). <b>Blood, Sweat & Tears</b> had shaken off all traces of their Greenwich Village origins by the time they recorded "And when I die". In the public mind, their superficial showbiz gloss transferred to the writer. Nevertheless, shortly after Monterey, Clive Davis also signed her following a private audition in which he was impressed by her conviction.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The songs she wrote for her Columbia albums continued to mine deeper feelings. She cast a golden glow on female friendship in the exquisite "<b>Emmie</b>" and stripped away all ornamentation to sing about addiction in "<b>Been on a train</b>". Sometimes she luxuriated in the exotic: “Where is your woman? Gone to Spanish Harlem, gone to buy you pastels, gone to buy you books.” </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1971, the year of Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On, she sang: “I love my country as it dies / In war and pain before my eyes.” Great musicians contributing to her albums included the harpist Alice Coltrane, the saxophonist Zoot Sims and the bassist Richard Davis, who had played on Eric Dolphy’s Out to Lunch! and Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Where did it come from?” Bette Midler would ask, wiping away real tears while inducting Nyro into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 15 years after her death. Her <b>Italian-Ukrainian</b> father, <b>Lou Nigro</b>, was a trumpeter in big bands; an uncle on her mother’s side was a cantor; on the record player at home there would be jazz, Broadway musicals, opera, folk songs and symphonies.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As she grew, she listened to the doo-wop groups whose songs she and her school friends practised in the subways. Miles Davis and John Coltrane were among her musical heroes. From 14 to 17, she attended the High School of Music and Art in Harlem, studying classical singing and counterpoint while looking, in the words of a friend quoted in Michele Kort’s excellent <b>2002 biography</b>, "<b>Soul Picnic</b>", “very much like a beatnik”. Her graduation ceremony, in the summer of 1965, was held at Carnegie Hall, on a stage from which she would one day give concerts under the name she adopted (and pronounced “Nero”) as soon as she started writing and performing professionally.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But in 1971, without a hit of her own from four albums of original songs, she decided to make an album of covers reflecting her roots, sourced from Motown, doo-wop and uptown soul, with harmonies supplied by her friends Patti LaBelle, Nona Hendryx and Sarah Dash, collectively known as <b>Labelle</b>. Two years before David Bowie’s Pin-Ups and Bryan Ferry’s These Foolish Things, Nyro’s exhilarating "<b>Gonna Take a Miracle</b>" proved to be ahead of its time.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Dismayed by its commercial failure and the acrimonious end of her close relationship with Geffen, she took initial comfort from a marriage to David Bianchini, a handsome young college drop-out who had served in Vietnam and worked sporadically as a carpenter. They moved to a house in Danbury, Connecticut and she disappeared from view.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By the time she <b>re-emerged</b> in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1975</span></b>, promoting a new album titled "Smile", the marriage was over. Three years later another album, "Nested", coincided with the birth of a son, Gil, to whom she gave her ex-husband’s surname even though the child was conceived during a brief relationship with another man. Her albums – the next, in <b>1984</b>, was called "Mother’s Spiritual" – reflected new concerns. A 17-year relationship with Maria Desiderio, a Danbury bookseller, was celebrated in songs that brought her a new audience.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I was a foolish girl but now I’m a woman of the world,” she sang in 1993 on a track from "Walk the Dog and Light the Light", the last studio album released during her lifetime. The contours of her new songs were less startling and there were fewer verbal starbursts. But on tour, usually with two or three other women providing harmonies, she mixed the songs of her youth with those of her maturity in a way that left no doubt who this extraordinary artist really was.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnAicxEGL4x0GsG_rEe1mOFAixYQDGHVWvNakRUF9MH0jmIQt9mSM_68T5b_88XqcVrodRpuTDWmpVF-VoJmm6NSUHUJci9Zw70FihzMK1b0ejcBj-zv2oXc-3ptu1zIjkrl2-3lrkk-2/s542/nyro.3rd.Oct.1968.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="361" data-original-width="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnAicxEGL4x0GsG_rEe1mOFAixYQDGHVWvNakRUF9MH0jmIQt9mSM_68T5b_88XqcVrodRpuTDWmpVF-VoJmm6NSUHUJci9Zw70FihzMK1b0ejcBj-zv2oXc-3ptu1zIjkrl2-3lrkk-2/s16000/nyro.3rd.Oct.1968.PNG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms Nyro in New York, 3rd October 1968.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu89uZC3HmGnhY1VytH4AvUm-KVVF82VapGyYbnA1WlmFDDXhKa4GJZYOQEkEc0p_5DDrcYKugJDVoj3QFqEPvuIiaXwPkq05mQJ1hAx1gtSwZ602h_GGJmLuZb5kpsxXeVRkAKRSyEvOc/s383/nyro.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="382" data-original-width="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu89uZC3HmGnhY1VytH4AvUm-KVVF82VapGyYbnA1WlmFDDXhKa4GJZYOQEkEc0p_5DDrcYKugJDVoj3QFqEPvuIiaXwPkq05mQJ1hAx1gtSwZ602h_GGJmLuZb5kpsxXeVRkAKRSyEvOc/s16000/nyro.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaAO8418Zu-ZjjoPsjC7Tpj2aEmnOcf8tbV1XyzdI6PRlQkGvhdmwzXcMkjGf5ZmDbIkhU-E4HGfNGJsyOXueNBQ8Q7ZhwCoYzOzmcmurmANi-2omJ5MeJXWhg7xcmJ2zfClcm9RsW5lP/s622/meta_eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJjb250ZW50LnNpdGV6b29nbGUuY29tIn0%253D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaAO8418Zu-ZjjoPsjC7Tpj2aEmnOcf8tbV1XyzdI6PRlQkGvhdmwzXcMkjGf5ZmDbIkhU-E4HGfNGJsyOXueNBQ8Q7ZhwCoYzOzmcmurmANi-2omJ5MeJXWhg7xcmJ2zfClcm9RsW5lP/s16000/meta_eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJjb250ZW50LnNpdGV6b29nbGUuY29tIn0%253D.jpg" /></a></div></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">A beginner’s guide to Laura Nyro</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Eli and the Thirteenth Confession</span></b>' (1968)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After a somewhat conservative debut album, her second effort – abetted by arranger and co-producer <b>Charlie Calello</b> – was an unstoppable display of musical and verbal fireworks, exploring the emotional extremes.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">New York Tendaberry</span></b>' (1969)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">To the hardcore fan, her masterpiece. The mood is darker, the arrangements more minimalist, highlighting the sense of desperation fuelling a soul-baring urban song-cycle. The finest distillation of her allure.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Gonna Take a Miracle</span></b>' (1971)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After four albums of original material, she and Labelle settled into Philadelphia’s Sigma Sound to record a joyful series of cover versions. Just hear how they turn the Originals’ The Bells into a soaring aria.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'<b>Walk the Dog and Light the Light</b>' (1993)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">More measured in its maturity but still filled with spirit and urgency, the last studio album released during her lifetime reflects her new range of feminist and ecological concerns.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'<b>The Loom’s Desire</b>' (2002)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Recorded in front of adoring audiences at New York’s Bitter End in 1993-94, with a harmony trio providing support, this double set captures the warmth and intimacy of her final performances.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">American Dreamer is released by Madfish on 30 July 2021.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This article was amended on 27 July 2021 because an earlier version referred to Danbury, Massachusetts, whereas it is in Connecticut.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7QKrAImZYKMki3x5XYBoqqfZSkU0gskEChlHGZWixxTgbtbhB5YD4hyphenhyphen46TfRM_D6ctrt20BOa7DMr9OXeQRqxtMILKW8mAr4X8tohb2JorCvh06Q40mqoJLs7jE7JTG6enBU-dJCT3M6A/s700/laura.nyro.gonna+%25282%2529.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="697" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7QKrAImZYKMki3x5XYBoqqfZSkU0gskEChlHGZWixxTgbtbhB5YD4hyphenhyphen46TfRM_D6ctrt20BOa7DMr9OXeQRqxtMILKW8mAr4X8tohb2JorCvh06Q40mqoJLs7jE7JTG6enBU-dJCT3M6A/w637-h640/laura.nyro.gonna+%25282%2529.PNG" width="637" /></a></div><p></p><div><br /></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-21471543523282166532021-06-07T02:58:00.016-07:002021-06-08T11:45:10.420-07:00B.J. Thomas (1942-2021)<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQStQTeEFvuZ32r9yAj0pLgqzA1DDQckWK54KBO7Tuu6MsIvTmEo8TRxaOaT1aQuM-Y1WZXXIGbnwtZ5R4hGG98e7pR3d_SyuDaI0JaAV4JjYegHdF3n-CauCLbSIhgyU0J2yNF9e1jf8t/s599/R-9602732-1483487690-1364.jpeg+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="592" data-original-width="599" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQStQTeEFvuZ32r9yAj0pLgqzA1DDQckWK54KBO7Tuu6MsIvTmEo8TRxaOaT1aQuM-Y1WZXXIGbnwtZ5R4hGG98e7pR3d_SyuDaI0JaAV4JjYegHdF3n-CauCLbSIhgyU0J2yNF9e1jf8t/w400-h396/R-9602732-1483487690-1364.jpeg+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>B.J. Thomas</b>, ‘<b>Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head</b>’ singer, dies at 78</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">By Bill Friskics-Warren</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>30 May 2021</b></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">B.J. Thomas, a country and pop hitmaker and five-time Grammy winner who contributed to the Southernization of popular music in the 1960s and 1970s, died on Saturday, 29 May 2021, at his home in Arlington, Texas. He was 78.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The cause was complications of lung cancer, said a spokesman, Jeremy Westby of 2911 Media.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Thomas’s biggest hit was “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head</span></b>,” which was originally featured in the 1969 movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” and spent 4 weeks at <b># 1</b> of the pop chart in early 1970; <b>3rd January 1970</b> to <b>24 January 1970</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Written and produced by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, “Raindrops” — a cheery ditty about surmounting life’s obstacles — won the Academy Award for best original song later that year. Mr. Thomas’s recording was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2014.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Thomas placed 15 singles in the pop Top 40 from 1966 to 1977. “(<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Hey won’t you play</span></b>) <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Another somebody done somebody wrong song</span></b>,” a monument to heartache sung in a bruised, melodic baritone, reached <b># 1</b> on both the country and pop charts on <b>26 April 1975</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Hooked on a feeling</span></b>,” an exultant expression of newfound love from 1968, also reached <b># 5</b> (for 2 weeks) on <b>11 January 1969</b> (Augmented by an atavistic chant of “Ooga-chaka-ooga-ooga,” the song became a <b># 1</b> pop hit as recorded by the Swedish rock band <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Blue Swede</span></b> on <b>6 April 1974</b>.)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Thomas’s records helped introduce a smooth, down-home sensibility to the AM airwaves, an approach shaped by the fusion of country, gospel, rock and R&B in the music of Elvis Presley. This uniquely Southern mix of styles became common currency on radio playlists across the nation, recognizable as well in hits by singers with similarly expressive voices like Brook Benton and Conway Twitty.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I try to give the soft pop sound a natural relaxed feeling,” Mr. Thomas said in “Home where I belong,” a memoir written with Jerry B. Jenkins. “I guess that’s why my records always cross over and are good sellers on the pop and rock charts, as well as country.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His debt to Presley’s romantic crooning notwithstanding, Mr. Thomas cited the music of Black R&B singers like <b>Little Richard</b> and <b>Jackie Wilson</b> as his greatest <b>vocal inspiration</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“We all loved Elvis and Hank Williams, but I think Wilson had the biggest influence on me,” he said in his memoir. “I couldn’t believe what he could do with his voice. I’ve always tried to do more with a note than just hit it, because I remembered how he could sing so high and so right, really putting something into it.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Wilson’s stamp is evident on “<b>Mighty clouds of joy</b>,” a rapturous, gospel-steeped anthem that reached <b># 8</b> at the Billboard chart for Mr. Thomas on <b>21st August 1971</b>. His command of musical dynamics is especially impressive on the chorus, where, lifting his voice heavenward, he goes from a hushed whisper to a flurry of ecstatic wailing before bringing his vocals back down to a murmur for the next verse.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Thomas came by his sense of redemption the hard way. He struggled for the better part of 10 years with a dependence on drugs and alcohol that almost destroyed his marriage and his life. After getting clean in the mid-70s, he enjoyed parallel careers as a country and gospel singer, releasing three No. 1 country singles over the ensuing decade and winning five Grammy Awards in gospel categories.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Billy Joe Thomas</span></b> was born on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">7 August 1942</span></b>, in Hugo, Okla., the second of three children of Vernon and Geneva Thomas. He was raised in Rosenberg, Texas, some 40 miles southwest of Houston. The family was poor, a condition exacerbated by his father’s violent temper and drinking. As an adolescent, B.J. (as he had come to be called playing Little League baseball) sang in the Baptist church his family attended.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While in high school he and his older brother, Jerry, joined a local pop combo, the Triumphs, with Mr. Thomas singing lead. In 1966, after three years of playing at dances and American Legion halls, the band had its first hit with a rendition of <b>Hank Williams</b>’s “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">I’m so lonesome I</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">could cry</span></b>” that reached <b># 8</b> on <b>9 April 1966</b>. '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Mama</span></b>' reached <b># 22</b> on <b>18 June 1966</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Credited to B.J. Thomas & the Triumphs and issued on the small <b>Pacemaker</b> label, the record was eventually picked up for distribution by the New York-based <b>Scepter Records</b>, home to major pop artists of the day like Dionne Warwick and the Shirelles. With sales of more than a million copies, it secured Mr. Thomas a place on the bill of a <b>traveling rock ’n’ roll revue</b> hosted by Dick Clark, the “American Bandstand” host and producer.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Despite the persistence and severity of his alcohol and drug use, Mr. Thomas’s recordings remained a constant on the pop chart for the next decade. '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">I just can't help believing</span></b>' was <b>#</b> <b>9</b> on <b>22nd August 1970</b>; '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Oh me oh my</span></b>' never charted in the USA but it reached <b># 2</b> in Brazil, on <b>11 September 1971</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Long ago tomorrow</span></b>' only managed to hit <b># 61</b> on <b>18 December 1971</b>, but “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Rock and roll lullaby</span></b>,” reached <b># 15</b> on <b>1st April 1972</b>, featuring <b>Duane Eddy</b> on guitar and backing vocals from <b>Darlene Love</b> and The Blossoms. Three years earlier, Mr. Thomas had enjoyed an extended run at the Copacabana in New York, brought about by the runaway success of “Hooked on a feeling.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He started on the path to recovery after converting to Christianity in the mid-70s, a period in which he also reconciled with his wife, Gloria, after repeated separations. In 1977, following a year or so in recovery, he sang at the memorial service for Presley, whose death that year had largely been attributed to his excessive use of prescription medications.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Thomas continued to make albums and tour into the 2000s. '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Whatever happened to old</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">fashioned love songs?</span></b>' was Billboard's <b># 93</b> on <b>21st May 1983</b>, but played a lot on the Australian airwaves Over the years he also sang and testified at the evangelical crusades of Billy Graham and other large religious gatherings.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He is survived by <b>Gloria Richardson Thomas</b>, his wife of 53 years; three daughters, Paige Thomas, Nora Cloud and Erin Moore; and four grandchildren.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">At its smoothest and most over-the-top, Mr. Thomas’s music could border on <b>schmaltz</b>. But at its most transcendent, as on the stirring likes of “Mighty clouds of joy,” he inhabited the junction of spirituality and sentiment with imagination and aplomb, making records that had many listeners singing along.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“The greatest compliment a person could pay my music is to listen and sing along with it and think that he can sing just as good as me,” Mr. Thomas said in his memoir, alluding to the accessibility of his performances. “He probably can’t, of course, or he’d be in the business, but I want it to sound that way anyway.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-aNSX6IQWtwXxlNaFJNcyRrS7ppZli85qvMB9Ng6IZ0ujaK4nXO2nga-1-DwHs32VZCfLO-jfr67QYkcyzwhBqeV7WKyiwtEFY9ZoyqARF1CeCrMerbjbo7PlvbcbFkOtAY_86uHl625/s438/bj+%25282%2529.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-aNSX6IQWtwXxlNaFJNcyRrS7ppZli85qvMB9Ng6IZ0ujaK4nXO2nga-1-DwHs32VZCfLO-jfr67QYkcyzwhBqeV7WKyiwtEFY9ZoyqARF1CeCrMerbjbo7PlvbcbFkOtAY_86uHl625/s16000/bj+%25282%2529.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkVF89q_wquLGs1ExcM5pmJGOvXBtrpSMhjG-ubCr2jqEYiAefXLHeQUFBJZez3AKdWC1D_cIUNs_AuXTc2j1Cu-nGJHeB0iPR4z2kqI3wOSKi3s-gshu8Ojw9dKKQil5vI25Fck7TH8k/s1014/merlin_186990861_fb2d4187-0dbf-4ec1-af34-3e410597d3a6-jumbo+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="978" data-original-width="1014" height="617" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkVF89q_wquLGs1ExcM5pmJGOvXBtrpSMhjG-ubCr2jqEYiAefXLHeQUFBJZez3AKdWC1D_cIUNs_AuXTc2j1Cu-nGJHeB0iPR4z2kqI3wOSKi3s-gshu8Ojw9dKKQil5vI25Fck7TH8k/w640-h617/merlin_186990861_fb2d4187-0dbf-4ec1-af34-3e410597d3a6-jumbo+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-20723525632658534932021-05-01T02:30:00.013-07:002021-05-02T10:53:48.773-07:00Duke Ellington <p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Duke Ellington may not be exactly 60s or 70s but he was everything... and besides, I'm proud to say I saw Duke Ellington in person in the early fall of 1972 (two year before he died on 24 May 1974) waiting for a cab in front of the Madison Square Garden. I saw that giant of a man trying to catch a cab and I knew instantly that he was the legendary Duke Ellington even though nodoby seemed to pay attention to him. He wore an over coat and was super elegant... </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vW4CR_pX9ReXm0YEa9vFVNwFmyVEPgG8yMtTaVVDWA_K7uvNlSj3SRU1BkP8w1stGyFvTwM74O-7C4X2pQmcP-v9LsFcX12nKpdJp3smNLwEl72PuLeM-lbEXWQNoewycg1tCkIBk4Kn/s588/duke.1.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vW4CR_pX9ReXm0YEa9vFVNwFmyVEPgG8yMtTaVVDWA_K7uvNlSj3SRU1BkP8w1stGyFvTwM74O-7C4X2pQmcP-v9LsFcX12nKpdJp3smNLwEl72PuLeM-lbEXWQNoewycg1tCkIBk4Kn/s16000/duke.1.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb6qY5kiDBPOM5pxa-Oh75UxybovKFd4CdI7ixDEi0XaTILmSh3Ol3aWbt0ZIMe80_L3jlP62SCuw8bYJ8jxuqZJX0bxldFaDg6MC61Xjny5MaOHSAS0SwhYR7-ZC-aK48xoNQaoELjJ98/s590/duke..PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb6qY5kiDBPOM5pxa-Oh75UxybovKFd4CdI7ixDEi0XaTILmSh3Ol3aWbt0ZIMe80_L3jlP62SCuw8bYJ8jxuqZJX0bxldFaDg6MC61Xjny5MaOHSAS0SwhYR7-ZC-aK48xoNQaoELjJ98/s16000/duke..PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOzZrRsuipUdSp2Y33kGJLCJRNP_DWOO_eHT5ZZ_EOmTiP5A7gdc_6-bUYnmyQPcJv6JUAQVq2MJ7pC17L099QCY2_Gw573OmRv3pz5KnR4ft2FFjzSWGlRiWTRiwd9f2phDQHVqWjmuR/s586/duke.2.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOzZrRsuipUdSp2Y33kGJLCJRNP_DWOO_eHT5ZZ_EOmTiP5A7gdc_6-bUYnmyQPcJv6JUAQVq2MJ7pC17L099QCY2_Gw573OmRv3pz5KnR4ft2FFjzSWGlRiWTRiwd9f2phDQHVqWjmuR/s16000/duke.2.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-515107806048505552021-03-16T03:20:00.007-07:002021-03-16T03:32:18.121-07:00Sally Grossman, the girl on the cover of Bob Dylan's 'Bringing it all back home' (1965) <p></p><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuueaq3Iepia_iaMgZjNLeS6yhyOti4qWG2lf8frfxRR8ykaTi_Hdeze0OJQ6MjlVG8WD316xFRDBRkET_T-JhAwkOQvX4WEsHncMRwitYLDJGqmVf_U_m0AZQyKkzETIUHks4h7m24kT9/s1024/15Greenberg1-jumbo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuueaq3Iepia_iaMgZjNLeS6yhyOti4qWG2lf8frfxRR8ykaTi_Hdeze0OJQ6MjlVG8WD316xFRDBRkET_T-JhAwkOQvX4WEsHncMRwitYLDJGqmVf_U_m0AZQyKkzETIUHks4h7m24kT9/w640-h640/15Greenberg1-jumbo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Sally Grossman</span></b>, <b>immortalized on a Dylan album cover, dies at 81</b></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She picked out a red outfit and struck a relaxed pose on the cover of “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Bringing it all back</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">home</span></b>,” leaving much for fans to guess about.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Bob Dylan wanted his manager’s wife, Sally Grossman, to appear on the cover of his 1965 album taken at her home in Woodstock, N.Y. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By Neil Genzlinger</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">15 March 2021</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One of Bob Dylan’s most important early albums, “<b>Bringing it all back home</b>” from <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1965</span></b>, has the kind of cover that can strain eyes and fuel speculation. It is a photograph of Mr. Dylan, in a black jacket, sitting in a room full of bric-a-brac that may or may not mean something, staring into the camera as a woman in a red outfit lounges in the background.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Fans became so fixated on deciphering it,” the music journalist Neil McCormick wrote in The Daily Telegraph of London last year, “that a rumor took hold that the woman was Dylan in drag, representing the feminine side of his psyche.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She wasn’t. She was Sally Grossman, the wife of Mr. Dylan’s manager at the time, Albert Grossman.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“The photo was shot in Albert Grossman’s house,” the man who took it, <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Daniel Kramer</span></b>, told The Guardian in 2016. “The room was the original kitchen of this house that’s a couple hundred years old.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Bob contributed to the picture the magazines he was reading and albums he was listening to,” Mr. Kramer added, a reference to the bric-a-brac. “Bob wanted Sally to be in the photo because, well, look at her! She chose the red outfit.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Grossman died on Thursday, <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">11 February 2021</span></b>, at her home in the Bearsville section of Woodstock, N.Y., not far from the house where the photograph was taken. She had long been a fixture in Woodstock, operating a recording studio, a theater and other businesses there after her husband died of a heart attack at 59 in 1986. She was 81.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Her niece, Anna Buehler, confirmed her death and said the cause had not been determined.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Grossman in an undated photo, taken in the same room, against the same fireplace, in which the 1965 album cover photo was shot. She and her husband ran recording studios and restaurants in Woodstock, and after his death she created the Bearsville Theater there. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She and her husband ran recording studios and restaurants in Woodstock, and after his death she created the Bearsville Theater there. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Sally Ann Buehler </span></b>was born on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">22nd August 1939</span></b>, in <b>Manhattan</b> to Coleman and Ann (Kauth) Buehler. Her mother was executive director of the Boys Club (now the Variety Boys and Girls Club) of Queens; her father was an actuary.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Grossman studied at Adelphi University on Long Island and Hunter College in Manhattan, but she was more drawn to the arts scene percolating in Greenwich Village.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I figured that what was happening on the street was a lot more interesting than studying 17th-century English literature,” she told Musician magazine in 1987, “so I dropped out of Hunter and began working as a waitress. I worked at the <b>Cafe Wha?</b>, and then the <b>Bitter End</b>, all over.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Along the way she met Mr. Grossman, who was making his name managing folk music acts that played at those types of venues, including <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Peter, Paul & Mary</span></b>, whom he helped bring together.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“The office was constantly packed with people,” Ms. Grossman recalled in the 1987 interview. “Peter, Paul and Mary, of course, but also <b>Ian & Sylvia</b>, <b>Richie Havens</b>, <b>Gordon Lightfoot</b>, other musicians, artists, poets.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The couple, who married in 1964, settled in Woodstock, where Mr. Grossman had acquired properties and which Mr. Dylan had also discovered about the same time, settling there with his family as well.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In due course came the photo shoot for the album cover.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“<b>I made 10 exposures</b>,” Mr. Kramer told The Minneapolis Star Tribune in <b>2014</b>. One image, with <b>Mr. Dylan holding a cat</b>, was a keeper. “That was the only time all three subjects were looking at the lens,” Mr. Kramer said.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The photo, staged by Mr. Kramer with Mr. Dylan’s input, was an early example of what became a mini-trend of loading covers up with imagery that seemed to invite scrutiny for insights into the music. The Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” (1967) might be the best-known example.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The album itself was a breakthrough for Mr. Dylan, marking his transition from acoustic to electric. Its tracks included “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Mr. Tambourine Man</span></b>,” “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Subterranean homesick blues</span></b>” and “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Maggie’s farm</span></b>.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Grossman and her husband established recording studios and restaurants in Bearsville, and after his death Ms. Grossman renovated a barn to create the Bearsville Theater, bringing to life a vision of her husband’s. It hosted numerous concerts over the years. She sold the businesses in the mid-2000s.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Grossman is survived by a brother, Barry Buehler.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Though she knew many American musicians, Ms. Grossman had a special place in her heart for an order of religious singers from Bengal known as the Bauls, whom she encountered in the 1960s. She created a digital archive of Baul music. Deborah Baker, author of “A Blue Hand: The Beats in India” (2008), wrote about Ms. Grossman and her connection to the Bauls in a 2011 essay in the magazine the Caravan.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Despite all the famous musicians and bands who once passed through her life,” Ms. Baker wrote, “she found it was the Bauls she missed the most from those years.”</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxodT3Cyef93OdonrSgx0T025fTcqAvjP4Vn-8qHMN020mPTz8L7pCM8CWoR4sIGHb75hWwKfctBg9Ubj6aK8exZ6r9ZtlSOOGGY3ueWjCdPv9ylP8c9c05QHqTv8dpjS4XkmXT0XGp-4J/s1024/15Grossman2-jumbo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="830" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxodT3Cyef93OdonrSgx0T025fTcqAvjP4Vn-8qHMN020mPTz8L7pCM8CWoR4sIGHb75hWwKfctBg9Ubj6aK8exZ6r9ZtlSOOGGY3ueWjCdPv9ylP8c9c05QHqTv8dpjS4XkmXT0XGp-4J/w519-h640/15Grossman2-jumbo.jpg" width="519" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Grossman in an undated photo, taken in the same room, against the same fireplace, in which the 1965 album cover photo was shot. She and her husband ran recording studios and restaurants in Woodstock, and after his death she created the Bearsville Theater there. </span></p>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-53995948939829249652021-03-02T12:16:00.024-08:002022-01-12T04:20:24.468-08:00Alan Freed the man who created the name Rock'n'Roll <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyQu3oEEkuA0fR_-EAoBOddlEPcQOzDTVotSzHEKl06-lU_1qIBiB1CfFJrvADTwBWN2qeOJLm6E1I3AZnHp7uWN9bDBtUewrJK5Lqj3wnmxM7Bfz_0zmCIqe2n5tfkK5uW5ofuRarl-zfJr2EmxQptbH8f_BFZDY_rpP9uRVJXJdR-0J4hASi6i1ypw=s980" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="980" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyQu3oEEkuA0fR_-EAoBOddlEPcQOzDTVotSzHEKl06-lU_1qIBiB1CfFJrvADTwBWN2qeOJLm6E1I3AZnHp7uWN9bDBtUewrJK5Lqj3wnmxM7Bfz_0zmCIqe2n5tfkK5uW5ofuRarl-zfJr2EmxQptbH8f_BFZDY_rpP9uRVJXJdR-0J4hASi6i1ypw=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Alan Freed at the microphone of New York's WINS at the height of his popularity. Freed was born on 16 December 1921. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1OtwQNoCbDiCZ7gzv7F0iMESUGfByvNgT_0XSX4F6DPGgA0eZd4orbjesWFSOzuXlSFOddukzZT2XmbDyaOPHsLsj4TKeushOSHDJ2U_iaRwB_kX0Ttdp-8AIL_F24w7FExzpbv_HEaj/s2048/Freed.1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="2048" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1OtwQNoCbDiCZ7gzv7F0iMESUGfByvNgT_0XSX4F6DPGgA0eZd4orbjesWFSOzuXlSFOddukzZT2XmbDyaOPHsLsj4TKeushOSHDJ2U_iaRwB_kX0Ttdp-8AIL_F24w7FExzpbv_HEaj/w640-h241/Freed.1.jpg" width="640" /></a><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeqT3wJBA3bG4mPYz25OfWRZBG7xqwinfomMSqdr7vd6PtMbgrEL27d3WCtpkBZxveaiRcqS8s8Fe2A42TlajlhDrdKo6Sd7C1Yqw_QG_vlf21p6-YSL9s4GNIIgTHsgOENyziv9N6n7l/s1704/Freed.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1595" data-original-width="1704" height="599" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeqT3wJBA3bG4mPYz25OfWRZBG7xqwinfomMSqdr7vd6PtMbgrEL27d3WCtpkBZxveaiRcqS8s8Fe2A42TlajlhDrdKo6Sd7C1Yqw_QG_vlf21p6-YSL9s4GNIIgTHsgOENyziv9N6n7l/w640-h599/Freed.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zseANYyX-rxxsKP1Fr3CRH7hWp6hFY9_rEQFCO9i7FY9KtGvFuH0P-QR8q-2UQblWnwllffXfShnk8auBdNq1KK1okTmaMTbaMN804S9FAYvpb4qJDPTdCNFHG1j5xPqm5Ssj6pVYmKx/s1912/Freed.2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1912" data-original-width="1764" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zseANYyX-rxxsKP1Fr3CRH7hWp6hFY9_rEQFCO9i7FY9KtGvFuH0P-QR8q-2UQblWnwllffXfShnk8auBdNq1KK1okTmaMTbaMN804S9FAYvpb4qJDPTdCNFHG1j5xPqm5Ssj6pVYmKx/w590-h640/Freed.2.jpg" width="590" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0x4sEC6cfjB2baL3LzuwNFuzxOEwFyZ6dJ5yRTEVFh4w4mIEUuL44TI2LruXN2IlMHEKA9u4bokjldePU1CR-ChPXMr3oWM-4QcXRapBG19JAPMvc1Wiw4kp6Ug-8BzdbjcFZsr5wpSg_-LtMzhkAjkCofvKOZWRALd4_M-8TcRlV0X6y0WDq_U1vrA=s1593" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1593" data-original-width="1167" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0x4sEC6cfjB2baL3LzuwNFuzxOEwFyZ6dJ5yRTEVFh4w4mIEUuL44TI2LruXN2IlMHEKA9u4bokjldePU1CR-ChPXMr3oWM-4QcXRapBG19JAPMvc1Wiw4kp6Ug-8BzdbjcFZsr5wpSg_-LtMzhkAjkCofvKOZWRALd4_M-8TcRlV0X6y0WDq_U1vrA=w469-h640" width="469" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieRGeDqyj9goVOPt5v87mm37sXI8ID2yBDXVeoUTxyZBqhvOOLNBCy50RarxvoqqFWqnAx6kgbOAxqyXNL7VMN4mvpAieCoL-TPWyhjwgpGDqXtcJcVTJurI_b_-BguN0YzOKt5tVPMUrfjZ_13Hdg3PcHXKMhjudXClEPn0HtBq7KWv9Gs4lXx6U0TQ=s1560" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1560" data-original-width="1210" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieRGeDqyj9goVOPt5v87mm37sXI8ID2yBDXVeoUTxyZBqhvOOLNBCy50RarxvoqqFWqnAx6kgbOAxqyXNL7VMN4mvpAieCoL-TPWyhjwgpGDqXtcJcVTJurI_b_-BguN0YzOKt5tVPMUrfjZ_13Hdg3PcHXKMhjudXClEPn0HtBq7KWv9Gs4lXx6U0TQ=w496-h640" width="496" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_rvNYmGZZ-tMXLejBzW_MhS5OVn2SZfTXUFuGW2KJCvs5R0md5jU5-F69RTUzO_MsdDJf4QRfgRXItX4eB_T0N7Ac-ITaKKma7MbQqhqZVVG5P2bva3BksdXO7HEDeyt6ij-hkiE3Y1ax3MmjDXk1PoGlbPrTt8R5zvPzNgkBv24H6SZF6XhGSinbzA=s1595" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1595" data-original-width="1141" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_rvNYmGZZ-tMXLejBzW_MhS5OVn2SZfTXUFuGW2KJCvs5R0md5jU5-F69RTUzO_MsdDJf4QRfgRXItX4eB_T0N7Ac-ITaKKma7MbQqhqZVVG5P2bva3BksdXO7HEDeyt6ij-hkiE3Y1ax3MmjDXk1PoGlbPrTt8R5zvPzNgkBv24H6SZF6XhGSinbzA=w458-h640" width="458" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75Zlw79tHerYZvXPWrUaXcsSbfh0Cwn-SC7VjNeHo8Jm-V7sfgVCZyaxdwMvJmxwTwSiHZDA1LTWN6fmtHDBJvlNFY18uUYw14viEHxBWqRfLHgFyK1oKQku90FYWZbkzP2qBHTs3OeHp/s1754/Freed.5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1754" data-original-width="1275" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75Zlw79tHerYZvXPWrUaXcsSbfh0Cwn-SC7VjNeHo8Jm-V7sfgVCZyaxdwMvJmxwTwSiHZDA1LTWN6fmtHDBJvlNFY18uUYw14viEHxBWqRfLHgFyK1oKQku90FYWZbkzP2qBHTs3OeHp/w465-h640/Freed.5.jpg" width="465" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTnaB_JH1smY2d_j7z7G-2I1X9bNbOatjwb64JVXhgoSSqurSm9MCSmRR0_vPoZExcsQX78PW-1q7E1jPGDuxLKfiwMhS7eY1wTZBOYK3YKeRHWoJ7NjN6iW89Ap85ZcDCd3lhRBiDNpWZ/s1754/Freed.4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1754" data-original-width="1275" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTnaB_JH1smY2d_j7z7G-2I1X9bNbOatjwb64JVXhgoSSqurSm9MCSmRR0_vPoZExcsQX78PW-1q7E1jPGDuxLKfiwMhS7eY1wTZBOYK3YKeRHWoJ7NjN6iW89Ap85ZcDCd3lhRBiDNpWZ/w465-h640/Freed.4.jpg" width="465" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVt2o85pzjUaA3v4IbnEUynbJXW3Fj0jcyyHbxukg-jDJBoCeMQQcnkz0W8z8dqxaGU0Mp59If5Txz1kxp951lgTLLr-Tf4XcQCezdv_0WUJZkqfKl6PVhSy7eWq84LJSFzZA4qBoI8QluX4MKk3l_j5TQdpu9tpLgaj2qoVL5PMdh6gOt13C-8M8GCA=s688" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVt2o85pzjUaA3v4IbnEUynbJXW3Fj0jcyyHbxukg-jDJBoCeMQQcnkz0W8z8dqxaGU0Mp59If5Txz1kxp951lgTLLr-Tf4XcQCezdv_0WUJZkqfKl6PVhSy7eWq84LJSFzZA4qBoI8QluX4MKk3l_j5TQdpu9tpLgaj2qoVL5PMdh6gOt13C-8M8GCA=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ed Sullivan, 5.7 & Buddy Holly, 2 feet tall. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyPYnKS7g2VNrRVGXd3X2HIHMw6O2M-W8JxM3bDsd4me4MgGnk_YTM7849ntdhyphenhyphen-AjgoEQ0xYjEeRawwPpauqjPIITweRWrPKEJ_Qi5ad3nhCdsvOEt-95K_O2OPjaOhLhOm8wZh6X14G/s531/145358304_10158198785399007_6397340113693913556_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyPYnKS7g2VNrRVGXd3X2HIHMw6O2M-W8JxM3bDsd4me4MgGnk_YTM7849ntdhyphenhyphen-AjgoEQ0xYjEeRawwPpauqjPIITweRWrPKEJ_Qi5ad3nhCdsvOEt-95K_O2OPjaOhLhOm8wZh6X14G/s16000/145358304_10158198785399007_6397340113693913556_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Buddy Holly at the Ed Sullivan Show... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaQgqIKZxnD8TFchq1CgQQxdWJEn1gutxylYrfs2BdNz46u8b9NKLtiM-aHkDYftB3pfovq2FCF6EJ-AkVp8JvObYagRKBfAVuhf2xQKmbwguJLm8ZxqflvElZq-sOax0MLOW-0vmsN8Q/s640/146160257_3712072248829845_68588450620044471_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaQgqIKZxnD8TFchq1CgQQxdWJEn1gutxylYrfs2BdNz46u8b9NKLtiM-aHkDYftB3pfovq2FCF6EJ-AkVp8JvObYagRKBfAVuhf2xQKmbwguJLm8ZxqflvElZq-sOax0MLOW-0vmsN8Q/s16000/146160257_3712072248829845_68588450620044471_o.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">spunky Buddy Holly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOVtwBTV6v0hbHQIqBeXwIy_7el28nPDWk_76u3P8XWNhnADS6Hdj74xfXOTxwFW5ijr3ZV0q5u3MoQapIhyphenhyphenZs45aO4kixMmOg8Va73CnBvvivdX70vEkkuGyMYASz7ZAIq_UPw-39XTo/s1085/Alan.Freed.Chuck.Sandy.Stewart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1085" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOVtwBTV6v0hbHQIqBeXwIy_7el28nPDWk_76u3P8XWNhnADS6Hdj74xfXOTxwFW5ijr3ZV0q5u3MoQapIhyphenhyphenZs45aO4kixMmOg8Va73CnBvvivdX70vEkkuGyMYASz7ZAIq_UPw-39XTo/w640-h510/Alan.Freed.Chuck.Sandy.Stewart.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Chuck Berry, Sandy Stewart & Alan Freed in a glossy for '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Go, Johnny, go!</span></b>' released in June 1959. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLspEiC8kh1ZzI8iPaKYXk4-OU7-PengDgcs4Gh-wOZI_BpvmFP5noZJ8vjCcScBhjCr6NJwZXNYDYuGvV4Sstde0L3USeGRgZBYh6UF7jkIvhtdJLdiPxmv7mMea91u7x9kiqO4WsPtpG/s1078/Chuck.Sandy.Jimmy.Clanton..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="889" data-original-width="1078" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLspEiC8kh1ZzI8iPaKYXk4-OU7-PengDgcs4Gh-wOZI_BpvmFP5noZJ8vjCcScBhjCr6NJwZXNYDYuGvV4Sstde0L3USeGRgZBYh6UF7jkIvhtdJLdiPxmv7mMea91u7x9kiqO4WsPtpG/w640-h528/Chuck.Sandy.Jimmy.Clanton..jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Chuck Berry, Sandy Stewart, Alan Freed & Jimmy Clanton in 'Go, Johnny, go!'.</span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHj-ZhnhvBgI90skQaqWk6bg_uRKT2Ug6GfyXMXWIjJYjAhlnC3rU-k1hI5TibTr8K4JGc4ecJ06vMOBXMQLjp1oicfWOW9mL6huzhb3TcD6CyCKBPCv-AoKYrX1DVCE8BmQfBJ8nJH6I7/s850/Chuck..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHj-ZhnhvBgI90skQaqWk6bg_uRKT2Ug6GfyXMXWIjJYjAhlnC3rU-k1hI5TibTr8K4JGc4ecJ06vMOBXMQLjp1oicfWOW9mL6huzhb3TcD6CyCKBPCv-AoKYrX1DVCE8BmQfBJ8nJH6I7/s16000/Chuck..jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Chuck on guitar and Alan Freed on drums...</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-56872145783599946722020-12-27T11:36:00.007-08:002020-12-28T03:16:48.364-08:00Dr. John aka Mac Rebennack <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqd23kaE4J-mKUc4HTUoPX7UCMguPXwaKhPorwRSxXwNVxRXTxixDnkS_vkzs64J3KkZjiVpX3_nKdkWnoxC8Eek6jfZbmF4qGkuJWUwiHnw99LMdRJ6GdYMMS2t3MG0ObtNNbcLbx0kKP/s786/dr.john.2.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="434" data-original-width="786" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqd23kaE4J-mKUc4HTUoPX7UCMguPXwaKhPorwRSxXwNVxRXTxixDnkS_vkzs64J3KkZjiVpX3_nKdkWnoxC8Eek6jfZbmF4qGkuJWUwiHnw99LMdRJ6GdYMMS2t3MG0ObtNNbcLbx0kKP/w640-h353/dr.john.2.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Dr. John</span>, of voodoo beads, feathers & New Orleans sound, dies at 77</b></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;">6 June 2019.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Mac Rebennack</span></b>, the pianist, singer, songwriter and producer better known as Dr. John, who embodied the New Orleans sound for generations of music fans, died on Thursday. He was 77.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A family statement released by his publicist said the cause was a <b>heart attack</b>. The statement did not say where he died. He had been living in recent years on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain, La.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Rebennack belonged to the pantheon of New Orleans keyboard wizards that includes Professor Longhair, James Booker, Huey (Piano) Smith and Fats Domino. What distinguished him from his peers was the <b>showmanship</b> of his <b>public persona</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Onstage as Dr. John, he adorned himself with snakeskin, beads and colorful feathers, and his shows blended Mardi Gras bonhomie with voodoo mystery.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He recorded more than 30 albums, including jazz projects (“Bluesiana Triangle,” 1990, with the drummer Art Blakey and the saxophonist David Newman), solo piano records (“Dr. John Plays Mac Rebennack,” 1981) and his version of Afropop (“Locked Down,” 2012). His <b>1989</b> album of standards, “<b>In a sentimental mood</b>,” earned him the first of six Grammy Awards, for his duet with <b>Rickie Lee Jones</b> on “<b>Makin’ whoopee!</b>”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His only Top 40 single, “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Right place wrong time</span></b>,” reached <b>No. 9</b> on the Billboard chart on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">30</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">June 1973</span></b>. In 2011, he was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Malcolm John Rebennack Jr.</span></b> was born in New Orleans on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">21st November 1940</span></b>. His mother, <b>Dorothy</b> (<b>Cronin</b>) Rebennack, worked as a model and in a music store. Malcolm Sr. owned an <b>appliance store</b>. <b>Mac</b>, as he came to be known, was a photogenic baby whose picture appeared on boxes of Ivory Soap.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He immersed himself in the sounds of New Orleans at a young age, first through the city’s radio stations and then by following his father to nightclubs, where <b>Malcolm Sr.</b> would <b>repair</b> <b>P.A. systems</b> while young Mac peered through the window, watching musicians like Professor Longhair rehearse.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Rebennack, a virtuoso on piano and guitar, was tutored by Walter (Papoose) Nelson, who played guitar with <b>Fats Domino</b>. “In the days when it was very difficult for a black guy and a white guy to socialize, for a <b>Black guy</b> to give a white guy guitar lessons” was “beyond beautiful,” Mr. Rebennack later recalled.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He started playing in clubs and on recording sessions as a teenager and dropped out of high school to pursue music full time.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He <b>played guitar</b> up to 18 hours a day, seven days a week — sitting in at Bourbon Street clubs and strip joints, leading his own bands, mixing players from the city’s segregated white and black musicians union, and recording more sessions than he could count.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“We used to do sessions every day, sometimes two or three a day, and you just scuffled to get through,” he remembered in 1973.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In his spare time, Mr. Rebennack wrote songs (he said he was the uncredited author of Lloyd Price’s 1960 hit “Lady Luck”) and worked as an <b>A&R man</b> at Ace Records.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He also nurtured a <b>heroin habit</b> and engaged in constant low-level criminal activity. “I tried all the hustles, but I was never good at most of them,” he wrote in his autobiography, “<b>Under a</b> <b>Hoodoo Moon</b>” (1994, with Jack Rummel). “Turned out the only scam I was good at was forging prescriptions.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In late 1961, Mr. Rebennack interceded in a fight when a friend was being pistol-whipped; for his troubles, he <b>took a bullet in his finger</b>. The injury forced him to <b>switch to piano</b> and organ as his primary instruments. Not long afterward, the New Orleans district attorney, Jim Garrison, closed down many of the city’s nightclubs in an anti-vice crusade, and the local music scene collapsed. (Mr. Garrison went on to become a leading conspiracy theorist on the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After a heroin arrest, Mr. Rebennack <b>did time in prison</b>, and when he got out, in <b>1965</b>, he headed straight for Los Angeles.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In California, Mr. Rebennack added barrelhouse piano flavor to pop and rock records, doing sessions with Sonny & Cher, the O’Jays, Frank Zappa and others. The producer Phil Spector, he recalled, “would pack a studio with 30 violins, 10 horns, a battery of keyboards, basses, guitars, drums, which, mixed with much echo, became his famous ‘wall of sound.’ I thought to myself, What’s all this? Because in New Orleans we put out just as much sound with only six guys.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After a few years, Mr. Rebennack recorded a session of his own, blending New Orleans R&B, Creole chants, psychedelic rock and mystical lyrics. He had intended the frontman persona, “Dr. John Creaux the Night Tripper,” to be played by a New Orleans buddy, Ronnie Barron; when Mr. Barron declined, Mr. Rebennack and his <b>charismatic growl</b> took center stage.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The Dr. John character made its debut on that album, “Gris-Gris,” which was released in <b>1968</b> on the <b>Atco</b> subsidiary of Atlantic Records. The album became a hit on underground FM radio on the strength of hypnotic tracks like “I Walk on Guilded Splinters.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Rebennack further developed the <b>Dr. John persona</b> — the name was borrowed from a 19th-century <b>voodoo priest</b> — on the albums “Babylon” and “Remedies.” As he wrote in his autobiography: “In New Orleans, in religion, as in food or race or music, you can’t separate nothing from nothing. Everything mingles each into the other — Catholic saint worship with gris-gris spirits, evangelical tent meetings with spiritual-church ceremonies — until nothing is purely itself but becomes part of one <b>fonky gumbo</b>.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Fans of those albums included Mick Jagger and Eric Clapton, both of whom appeared on Mr. Rebennack’s <b>ill-fated</b> <b>1971</b> concept album, “<b>The Sun Moon & Herbs</b>,” which was cut down from three discs to one when Mr. Rebennack became embroiled in a management dispute and lost control of the master tapes.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After that misfire, he took the suggestion of Jerry Wexler, the Atlantic Records executive who produced R&B heavyweights like Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin, and began recording songs, like “Iko Iko” and “Tipitina,” which were as fundamental to New Orleans as red beans and rice.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The resulting album, “<b>Dr. John’s Gumbo</b>,” produced by Mr. Wexler and released in <b>1972</b>, paved the way for two records on which Mr. Rebennack was produced by Allen Toussaint and backed by the Meters.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As many albums as he made, however, Mr. Rebennack said he had earned more money cutting jingles. His clients included Popeyes chicken, Scott tissue and Oreo cookies. He also reached younger generations with his theme songs for the sitcom “Blossom” and the cartoon show “Curious George,” and through his Muppet musician doppelgänger, Dr. Teeth, leader of the Electric Mayhem.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In <b>1989</b>, after 34 years of on-and-off addiction, Mr. Rebennack <b>quit heroin</b>. For several years he split his time between New Orleans and an apartment in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan, where he could be spotted with his trademark <b>walking stick</b>, adorned with voodoo beads, a yak bone, an alligator tooth and key rings from <b>Narcotics Anonymous</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I relate to people up there that kind of hangs on the streets,” he told The New York Times in 2010. Asked if he spoke Spanish, like many of the neighborhood’s residents, he said, “No, I don’t even speak English.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A spokeswoman said his survivors include children and grandchildren but provided no other details.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">New Orleans gave Mac Rebennack his musical identity, and he tried to uphold its traditions: as a recording artist, as a regular guest star on the HBO series “Treme” (playing himself) and as a frequent performer at the annual New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. Even thousands of miles from Louisiana, however, he could invoke its musical magic.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One day in 1968, Mr. Rebennack visited the Topanga Canyon neighborhood of Los Angeles with the other members of his band. As he told the story in his memoir:</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“We were down by this stream in the canyon and Charlie Maduell broke out his flute and started playing, and frogs started chirping to it. Didimus picked up some rocks and began playing a groove; Dave Dixon had found some kind of animal bones and began playing those. Stalebread Charlie had a tape recorder and taped our little nature jam. We called this the ‘Symphony of the Frogs.’ Before too long, all these naked people came down the creek bed, attracted by the music and the chirping, and started dancing.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“We were getting into the people dancing, and they were getting into our music. It all got very intense. When it died down some, Didimus said, ‘Hey, we should take this to the people.’ That’s how the Dr. John road show began.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By Gavin Edwards</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A version of this article appears in print on June 7, 2019, on Page A23 of the New York edition with the headline: Dr. John, of Voodoo Beads, Feathers and New Orleans Sound, Dies at 77. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58vqTjmdhYFzCYgHrltJLFdbSb9IsoNQC7iH1GL4kK1ckdgWArF7rYz6vKqH0qGO0HSyT3u8aersqWtLKZUU0kZWREPLIF7WAb795GgXQcuwspc1UMYkxAyw7F4Sr0HzlMLvgo04R_qQ4/s429/dr.john+%25282%2529_LI.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="234" data-original-width="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58vqTjmdhYFzCYgHrltJLFdbSb9IsoNQC7iH1GL4kK1ckdgWArF7rYz6vKqH0qGO0HSyT3u8aersqWtLKZUU0kZWREPLIF7WAb795GgXQcuwspc1UMYkxAyw7F4Sr0HzlMLvgo04R_qQ4/s16000/dr.john+%25282%2529_LI.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Such a night, such a night</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">sweet confusion under the moonlight</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">such a night, such a night</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">got to steal away, the time seem right</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">then your eyes met mine at a glance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">you let me know this was my chance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">(you) came here with my best friend Jim</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">here I am 'cause I'm gonna steal you away from him</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">oh baby, </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">if I don't do it, somebody else will</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">if I don't do it, somebody else will</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">if I don't do it, somebody else will</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">If I don't do it, you know, you somebody else will</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Such a night, such a night</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">sweet confusion under the moonlight</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">such a night, such a night</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">got to steal away, the time seem right</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">yeah, I couldn't believe my ear </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">my heart just skipped a beat</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">you told me we could slip away down the dark end of the street</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">yeah, you came here with my best friend Jim</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">here I am, 'cause I'm gonna steal you away from him</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">baby, if I don't do it, somebody else will</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">if I don't do it, you know, somebody else will </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">if I don't do it, you know, somebody else wil</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">if I don't do it, somebody else will.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Rebennack Mac </span></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-65977519278110407752020-11-15T11:59:00.006-08:002021-03-02T12:28:39.355-08:00Bill Withers <p></p><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq0vezaaaBfGT-dEP6lx3ZbWQzI6SJnWcrooOKFavOVW6sQ6M92AT5sj4JHqxFLm7zv7C9_vut2ye9HDGrk0ZbV_mc2ZdPR143P8SsQCxdqlt8uqfTWthwdANbKajVOq3DAYGDQ-vjZH_/s531/125192623_10159019290603184_2077262641768205832_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq0vezaaaBfGT-dEP6lx3ZbWQzI6SJnWcrooOKFavOVW6sQ6M92AT5sj4JHqxFLm7zv7C9_vut2ye9HDGrk0ZbV_mc2ZdPR143P8SsQCxdqlt8uqfTWthwdANbKajVOq3DAYGDQ-vjZH_/s16000/125192623_10159019290603184_2077262641768205832_o.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58y4x-d2kDKPcneMvIg0PknCm3MOmQeXs8yVyrdwPiYrTUMcgZD3HuKPBWMfAGe30ZKK4aMUjaBEdFs1ajAJkNg3-sKk9IAvIO65z8Xz3_B8CTPJlPRKnzpzJ7nkZpJasDwpDPYYFHEC8/s584/withers.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="584" data-original-width="584" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58y4x-d2kDKPcneMvIg0PknCm3MOmQeXs8yVyrdwPiYrTUMcgZD3HuKPBWMfAGe30ZKK4aMUjaBEdFs1ajAJkNg3-sKk9IAvIO65z8Xz3_B8CTPJlPRKnzpzJ7nkZpJasDwpDPYYFHEC8/s16000/withers.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY0jnMd2JGXpNySmR3UWqMgeBC54Rrt2WrP5noBgKcI7UPoM_zTYXuGdRfES3mA_RyOeCLlw90GFMl3XFWmEe8sQYij2UhoAcK5pGRcwx7YPJXZbCZYzDQd5e_nTElC_broUa72M4NyxL/s564/Bill.Withers.Ali..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="361" data-original-width="564" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY0jnMd2JGXpNySmR3UWqMgeBC54Rrt2WrP5noBgKcI7UPoM_zTYXuGdRfES3mA_RyOeCLlw90GFMl3XFWmEe8sQYij2UhoAcK5pGRcwx7YPJXZbCZYzDQd5e_nTElC_broUa72M4NyxL/s16000/Bill.Withers.Ali..jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Bill Withers whispers something on Mohamed Ali's ears...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">'You couldn't harness Ali. He always was in perpetual motion. It would be like trying to catch a humming bird in your hands.' Bill Withers.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTpv7pLZYy0i6oxi2mXCtpVNstmLuP-N0VKLFpwUOOir4NglPNH8hXsVnxKq6wqnwthj8ugWWq_luDS23O-evE5lrPwhm_1zZH5sXZaa-ms5LV7wisBQfOgVdqWZmRIhemD8PoT5VDATw/s1706/bill.withers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1706" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTpv7pLZYy0i6oxi2mXCtpVNstmLuP-N0VKLFpwUOOir4NglPNH8hXsVnxKq6wqnwthj8ugWWq_luDS23O-evE5lrPwhm_1zZH5sXZaa-ms5LV7wisBQfOgVdqWZmRIhemD8PoT5VDATw/w450-h640/bill.withers.jpg" width="450" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... </span></div></div></div><p></p>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-3381243107854933112020-11-07T14:49:00.006-08:002020-11-08T01:26:17.894-08:00Jerry Jeff Walker, who wrote 'Mr. Bojangles', dies at 78. <p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALbAm9Od01olw2bgtelos52qfn_RTFOYU71eg0qVBC13uvmk41Wbayvea_e67UAElJwT7GMd7M69SoGZvVWXicNLYiXJjEHM5O7jzgLBsQI7SpyF27253_X1pLnOLI2VfJVcvwjjZMf_O/s1024/merlin_178999272_d40d8604-3de3-4ff4-a14d-02bd8f6b6eb7-jumbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1024" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALbAm9Od01olw2bgtelos52qfn_RTFOYU71eg0qVBC13uvmk41Wbayvea_e67UAElJwT7GMd7M69SoGZvVWXicNLYiXJjEHM5O7jzgLBsQI7SpyF27253_X1pLnOLI2VfJVcvwjjZMf_O/w640-h426/merlin_178999272_d40d8604-3de3-4ff4-a14d-02bd8f6b6eb7-jumbo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Jerry Jeffe Walker performs in Chicago in 1977. </span></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Jerry Jeff Walker </span><span style="font-family: arial;">never had a Top 40 pop hit. But his best-known composition became a standard, and he became a mainstay of the outlaw country movement.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By Bill Friskics-Warren for The New York Times.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">24 October 2020.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Jerry Jeff Walker, the singer-songwriter who wrote the much-recorded standard “Mr. Bojangles” and later became a mainstay of the Texas outlaw movement that catapulted Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings to fame, died on Friday, <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">23rd October 2020</span></b>, at a hospital in Austin, Texas. He was 78.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His former publicist John T. Davis said the cause was cancer. Mr. Walker learned he had throat cancer in 2017.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A native New Yorker, Mr. Walker began his career in the 1960s, hitchhiking and busking around the country before establishing himself in Greenwich Village and writing the song that would secure his reputation.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A waltzing ballad about an <b>old street dancer</b> Mr. Walker had met in a New Orleans drunk tank, “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Mr. Bojangles</span></b>” was first recorded by Mr. Walker for the <b>Atco</b> label in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1968</span></b>. The song achieved its greatest success in a <b>folk-rock</b> version with the <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Nitty Gritty Dirt Band</span></b> that reached <b><span style="color: #ffa400;"># 9</span></b> on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">20 February 1971</span></b>, at Billboard's chart and stayed there for 3 weeks. It went on to be covered by a wide range of artists, among them Nina Simone, Neil Diamond and even <b>Bob Dylan</b>. Sammy Davis Jr. included it in his stage show and performed it on television.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“At the time, I was reading a lot of Dylan Thomas, and I was really into the concept of internal rhyme,” Mr. Walker wrote of the song’s origin in his 1999 memoir, “Gypsy Songman.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“The events of the past few months were still swirling inside, along with the memory of folks I’d met in jail cells in Columbus and New Orleans,” he went on.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“And it just came out: Knew a man Bojangles, and he danced for you. …”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The song was by far Mr. Walker’s best-known composition, the only original of his — he typically performed songs written by others — to become a major hit. But perhaps his most enduring contribution to popular culture was as an architect of the so-called cosmic cowboy music scene that coalesced around Armadillo World Headquarters, an iconoclastic nightclub in Austin.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The reception Mr. Walker received in Austin, he often said, signaled the first time he felt truly validated as an artist. “Texas was the only place where they didn’t look at me like I was crazy,” he told Rolling Stone in <b>1974</b>, referring to the freewheeling ethos he cultivated with fellow regulars at Armadillo World Headquarters like Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys and Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“It was the first place where, when I got on the stage to play, they said, ‘Of course, why not?’ Other places, they said, ‘Aw, you’re just another Bob Dylan, trying to make it with your guitar.’”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In a career that spanned six decades, Mr. Walker never had a Top 40 pop hit. But in his 1970s heyday, he and the Lost Gonzo Band, his loose-limbed group of backing musicians, made a number of definitive <b>Texas outlaw</b> recordings.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Foremost was “Up Against the Wall, Redneck Mother,” a boozing, brawling anthem written by Ray Wylie Hubbard that appeared on Mr. Walker’s 1973 album, “Viva Terlingua.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Viva Terlingua,” recorded live in Luckenbach, Texas, included other tracks that became signature recordings for Mr. Walker: among them are a dissolute take on Michael Martin Murphey’s “Backsliders Wine,” and “London Homesick Blues,” a tribute to Armadillo World Headquarters, written and sung by Gary P. Nunn of Mr. Walker’s band, with Mr. Walker on backing vocals. With a memorable refrain that began, “I wanna go home with the armadillo,” “London Homesick Blues” later became the theme song of the long-running PBS concert series “Austin City Limits.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mainstream radio programmers nevertheless didn’t play Mr. Walker’s music, perhaps because of his gruff, braying singing voice and his reputation for being <b>intoxicated onstage</b> or <b>failing</b> <b>to show up</b> for performances altogether. Further jeopardizing his commercial prospects, he eschewed the glossier sensibilities of Nashville and other recording centers in favor of releasing raucous albums, recorded both in concert and in the studio, without the benefit of editing or overdubs.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I wanted our records to sound like we were having a grand time at a party thrown for a bunch of our best friends — which, I guess, is exactly what it was,” Mr. Walker was quoted as saying in the 1998 edition of The Encyclopedia of Country Music.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Jerry Jeff Walker</b> was born <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Ronald Clyde Crosby</span></b> on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">16 March 1942</span></b>, in <b>Oneonta, N.Y.</b>, in northernmost Appalachia. His father, Mel Crosby, refereed sporting events and tended bar; his mother, Alma (Conrow) Crosby, was a homemaker.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Young Ronnie grew up in a musical home. His <b>parents </b>were local <b>dance champions</b>, and his maternal grandparents led a <b>square-dance band</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A rebellious youth who excelled in athletics, Mr. Walker received his first guitar as a Christmas present when he was 12. He later took up banjo and ukulele and played in local pop combos when he was in high school. He joined the National Guard in the early 1960s, only to go AWOL before embarking on the hitchhiking tour of the country that ultimately led to him changing his name to Jerry Jeff Walker and moving to New York to pursue his muse as a folk singer.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While in Greenwich Village, he became a member of the psychedelic rock band Circus Maximus, although he remained with the group only until the release of its debut album. By that time he had written “Mr. Bojangles,” which, after an auspicious live performance on the listener-supported New York radio station WBAI, helped him secure a contract with <b>Atco</b> <b>Records</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Walker made three albums for Atco and another for <b>Vanguard Records</b> before relocating in <b>1971</b> to <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Austin</span></b>. After signing with <b>Decca</b> in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1972</span></b>, he released an album, titled simply “Jerry Jeff Walker,” which featured an acclaimed version of “L.A. Freeway,” a staple of the Southwestern songwriting canon written by Guy Clark, the Texan singer-songwriter. The next year, Mr. Walker further helped raise Mr. Clark’s profile as a songwriter with his heart-rending cover of “<b>Desperados Waiting for a Train</b>,” another neo-western touchstone written by Mr. Clark.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Walker toured and recorded extensively throughout the 1970s and ’80s, even as his <b>drinking</b> became <b>unmanageable</b> and he faced <b>mounting debt</b>, including back taxes owed to the I.R.S. With the help of Susan Streit, his wife of 46 years, he <b>gave up liquor</b> and <b>drugs</b> in the <b>late ’70s</b>, put his life back together and eventually settled into the role of elder statesman of the gonzo Texas music scene he had helped create.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In addition to Ms. Streit, Mr. Walker’s survivors include a daughter, Jessie Jane McLarty; a son, Django, who is also a musician; a sister, Cheryl Harder; and two grandchildren.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Walker had been receiving chemotherapy and radiation. In 2017, it was announced that he had donated his music archives, including tapes, photographs and handwritten lyrics, to the Wittliff Collections at Texas State University.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“The mid-’70s in Austin were the busiest, the craziest, the most vivid and intense and productive period of my life,” Mr. Walker wrote in his memoir '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Gypsy songman</span></b>'.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Greased by drugs and alcohol, I was also raising the pursuit of wildness and weirdness to a fine art,” he wrote. “I didn’t just burn the candle at both ends, I was also finding new ends to light.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Christina Morales contributed reporting.</span></p>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-35458634839456867502020-10-24T10:17:00.001-07:002020-10-24T10:17:05.143-07:00MAD magazine artists <p> <b style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Al Feldstein, soul of MAD magazine, dies at 88</span></b></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3r41jTc16Kg9ddQ2cwANEM5J6P9BduZ2gZXMMgpDjGwWwfPjoT50Z7OwO_LWcBA-DvmqmVtZrdxArVXJmk66p8PuBHmurSN7h4VUEJ0bwGdzC0W1OzyFRftpbFTRClrFIMwxu2_3iQuF7/s1600/FELDSTEIN1obit-master495.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3r41jTc16Kg9ddQ2cwANEM5J6P9BduZ2gZXMMgpDjGwWwfPjoT50Z7OwO_LWcBA-DvmqmVtZrdxArVXJmk66p8PuBHmurSN7h4VUEJ0bwGdzC0W1OzyFRftpbFTRClrFIMwxu2_3iQuF7/s1600/FELDSTEIN1obit-master495.jpg" width="443" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div>by Bruce Weber for NYT</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">1st May 2014</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><b><span style="color: orange;">Al Feldstein</span></b>, who took over a fledging humour magazine called MAD in 1956 and made it a popular, profitable and enduring wellspring of American satire, died in <b><span style="color: orange;">29 April 2014</span></b>, at his ranch in Paradise Valley, Montana. He was 88.<br /><br />His wife, nee Michelle Key, confirmed the death. In recent years, he was a wildlife and landscape painter in Montana, outside Livingston.<br /><br />Al Feldstein had been a writer and illustrator of comic books when he became editor of MAD four years into its life and just a year after it had graduated from comic-book form to a full-fledged magazine.<br /><br />The founding editor, <b>Harvey Kurtzman</b>, established its well-informed irreverence, but Mr. Feldstein gave MAD its identity as a <b><span style="color: orange;">smart-alecky</span></b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">sniggering</span></b> and indisputably clever spitball-shooter of a publication with a scattershot look, dominated by gifted cartoonists or wildly differing styles.<br /><br />Sources disagree about MAD's circulation when Mr. Feldstein took over; estimates range from 325,000 to 750,000. But by the early 1960s, he increased it to over <b><span style="color: orange;">a million</span></b>, and in the 1970s it had doubled.<br /><br />He hired many of the writers and artists whose work became MAD trademarks. Among them were <b><span style="color: orange;">Don</span></b> <b><span style="color: orange;">Martin</span></b>, whose cartoons featuring bizarre human figures and distintive sound effects - Kattong! Sklortch! Zazik" - immortalized the eccentric and the screwy; <b>Antonio Prohias</b>, whose '<b><span style="color: orange;">Spy vs. Spy</span></b>' was a sendup of the international politics of the <b>Cold War</b>; <b><span style="color: orange;">Dave Berg</span></b>, whose '<b>The Lighter Side of...</b>' made gentle, arch fun of <b><span style="color: orange;">middlebrow </span>behaviour</b>; and <b><span style="color: orange;">Mort Drucker</span></b>, whose caricature satirized movies like Woody Allen's 'Hannah and Her Sisters' ('Henna and Her Sickos' in Mad's retelling).<br /><br />Another hire, George Woodbridge, illustrated a MAD signature article written by Tom Koch: a prescient 1965 satire of college sports, criticizing their elitism and advocating the creation of a game that could be played by everyone. It was called 43-Man Squamish, 'played on a five-side field called a Flutney.' Position players, each equipped with a hooked stick calle a frullip, included deep <b><span style="color: orange;">brooders</span></b>, inside and outside <b><span style="color: orange;">grouches</span></b>, overblats, underblats, quarter-frummers, half-frummerts a full-frummert and a dummy.<br /><br />'The offensive team, upon receiving the Pritz, has five Snivels in which to advance to the enemy goal,' Mr. Koch wrote, part of a nonsensical and hopelessly complicated instruction manual that nonetheless inspired the formation of squamish teams on campuses across the country.<br /><br />In his second issue, Mr. Feldstein seized on a character who had appeared only marginally in the magazine - a <b><span style="color: orange;">freckled</span></b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">gap-toothed</span></b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">big-eared</span></b>, glazed-looking young man - and put his image on the cover, identifying him as a write-in candidate for president campaigning under the slogan 'What - me worry?'<br /><br />At first he went by Mel Haney, Melvin Cowznofski and other names. But when the December <b><span style="color: orange;">1956</span></b> issue, No. 30, identified him as Alfred E. Neuman, the name stuck. He became the magazine's perennial cover-boy, appearing in dozens of guises, including as a joker on a playing card, an ice-skating barrel jumper, a totem on a totem-pole, a football player, a yogi, a construction worker, King Kong atop the Empire State Building, Rosemary's baby, Uncle Sam, General Patton and Barbra Streisand.<br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh900iQh2JLJWxaBfT1o8iSd8H9ggu9qlvOTqihKUZ9SeT7T2Ox5O8emNS_uc6BEJ7WXZOYfcttZ-uAeXlnppxrlfDmmS5deYjBO-oaB7Q6MiedEGNlmTcd63V4b4AfX5E5NxszigqXi2iA/s1600/2036803764_e97cbe8815_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh900iQh2JLJWxaBfT1o8iSd8H9ggu9qlvOTqihKUZ9SeT7T2Ox5O8emNS_uc6BEJ7WXZOYfcttZ-uAeXlnppxrlfDmmS5deYjBO-oaB7Q6MiedEGNlmTcd63V4b4AfX5E5NxszigqXi2iA/w243-h320/2036803764_e97cbe8815_o.jpg" width="243" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pwIEO8d_uCzh5RQp03vhboxicgJpbdUSzkCjJwtWczxYsBVUAeNPD2oc_8MYLK7PXEtOLcMLOA0ObLK1NmBp1g_bgayNaeD7em87g_xJ07gwZhoLhvmRA-IsB_Zl81dUjTu_GEBTgSpg/s1600/mad094f.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pwIEO8d_uCzh5RQp03vhboxicgJpbdUSzkCjJwtWczxYsBVUAeNPD2oc_8MYLK7PXEtOLcMLOA0ObLK1NmBp1g_bgayNaeD7em87g_xJ07gwZhoLhvmRA-IsB_Zl81dUjTu_GEBTgSpg/w245-h320/mad094f.jpg" width="245" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ95EtGbJlVNIFbyeDBehAVQfgLhQf7G2gIGGf-jyHKulqzUzDEwXMFgmist9r7HyeJBi7iU4kx9hFBmHG32gmZRvoRfzMAy9KOgXvH2VnJfYjvDQ_w9gU_gXC6SeoJfps-JPv6g0mAT7I/s1600/rosemary3.jpg" style="font-family: arial; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ95EtGbJlVNIFbyeDBehAVQfgLhQf7G2gIGGf-jyHKulqzUzDEwXMFgmist9r7HyeJBi7iU4kx9hFBmHG32gmZRvoRfzMAy9KOgXvH2VnJfYjvDQ_w9gU_gXC6SeoJfps-JPv6g0mAT7I/w240-h320/rosemary3.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFx0oD5rVCNjzs7dkCXiSkC1-IdjrLGsVlWEQdwWfsTqrpDWLELK3RXgE0dm7sj2EkM5TQHw_dN-wp26Thyphenhyphenog3HOGLGut9EN1mtFmt72LiHpjGZPJRAwSW8TKnCjFNgyKYT20MAEa29gD/s1600/mad_nixon.jpg" style="font-family: arial; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFx0oD5rVCNjzs7dkCXiSkC1-IdjrLGsVlWEQdwWfsTqrpDWLELK3RXgE0dm7sj2EkM5TQHw_dN-wp26Thyphenhyphenog3HOGLGut9EN1mtFmt72LiHpjGZPJRAwSW8TKnCjFNgyKYT20MAEa29gD/w242-h320/mad_nixon.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Neuman became the symbol of MAD, his goofy countenance often intruding, Zelig-like, into scenes from the political landscape and from popular TV shows and movies. He signaled the magazine's editorial attitude, which fell somewhere between juvenile nose-thumbing at contemporary culture and sophisticated spoofing.<br /><br />MAD made fun of itself as well. The staff was referred to on the masthead as 'the usual gang of idiots,' and the magazine warned readers not to take it seriously even as it winkingly promoted its importance. Its irreverence made it especially popular with teenagers - many comedians have confessed to slavering over issues in their adolescence - and in its tone and fearless targeting of sacred cows it anticipated social satire vehicles like The Harvard Lampoon, National Lampoon, 'Saturday Night Live,' 'The Simpsons,' 'South Park' and The Onion.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: orange;">Albert Bernard Feldstein</span></b> was born in <b><span style="color: orange;">24 October 1925</span></b>, in Brooklyn-NY, to Max and Beatrice Feldstein. His father made dental molds. Attracted to drawing as a boy, Albert won a poster contest sponsored by the 1939 New York World's Fair.<br /><br />He attended the High School of Music and Art in Manhattan and, after graduating, took classes at the Art Students League. He also worked part-time for a studio that produced comic books. During World Waw II, he served stateside in the Army Air Forces.<br /><br />After the war, Mr. Feldstein was a freelance writer and illustrator before going to work for William M. Gaines, the publisher of EC, short for Educational Comics and, later, Entertaining Comics. At EC, Mr. Feldstein created Weird Science, Weird Fantasy, Tales From the Crypt and several other horror and suspense titles.<br /><br />Mr. Gaines also published a comic book, full of irreverent and sometimes juvenile humour, called Mad, the brainchild of Mr. Kurtzman, and a second humour-based comic, Panic, an offshoot of Mad, edited by Mr. Feldstein.<br /><br />The <b><span style="color: orange;">early 1950s</span></b> were a grim time for comic books. Moralizing newspaper columnists and eventually <b>Congress</b> attacked them as having a <b><span style="color: orange;">corrupting influence</span></b> on America's youth. When Mr. Feldstein's horror books were singled out, EC nearly went out of business, and in 1955, Mr. Feldstein temporarily lost his job.<br /><br />MAD began to flourish under Mr. Kurtzman, but he and Mr. Gaines clashed, and when Mr. Kurtzman left in 1956, Mr. Gaines hired Mr. Feldstein to replace him. He was its editor until 1985.<br /><br />By then MAD was a victim of its own success. With its brand of satire increasingly available in many other publications and on TV, its circulation had been in decline for a decade. Mr. Gaines, who died in 1992, sold the magazine in the early 1960s to the Kinney Parking Company, which went on to buy Warner Brothers and the company now known as DC Comics as well.<br /><br />Today, MAD, published by the DC Entertainmente division of Warner Communications, has a much lower circulation than it did at its peak, but an active and popular website.<br /><br />After his retirement from MAD, Mr. Feldstein pursued a painting career in Montana and had exhibitions in galleries in the West.<br /><br />His first marriage, to Clair Szep, ended in divorce. His second, to Natalie Lee Sigler, ended with her death in 1986.<br /><br />In addition to his wife, he is survived by 5 children, a step-daughter, 3 grandchildren and 2 step-grand-sons.<br /><br />As editor of MAD, Mr. Feldstein had a palpable influence on popular culture at large. To cite just one example, in 1965 MAD published letters and photographs from college students who said they had been inspired by the squamish article to field team. (Whether this was true or not is difficult to prove.) One letter writer, from Marquette University, said the school had its own squamish team and that 'at last tally, we have lost 2 Deep Brooders and 1 Dummy, who were suspended for sportsmanlike conduct during the course of play.'<br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4o3wQ_NvLHjtfhTVyY0ZpDIZ9NkJHW9PelIg5t5jvZts34HywRjOwDq1KLFU4M9Pp1Hcwx0QVwp_d1hQrsHagTuoA_Xb4v0LhuuSJ4z3CGPhQxarpHrldf5rP5tFTbNSffklcY5nVTEO/s1600/al-feldstein.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4o3wQ_NvLHjtfhTVyY0ZpDIZ9NkJHW9PelIg5t5jvZts34HywRjOwDq1KLFU4M9Pp1Hcwx0QVwp_d1hQrsHagTuoA_Xb4v0LhuuSJ4z3CGPhQxarpHrldf5rP5tFTbNSffklcY5nVTEO/s1600/al-feldstein.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Al Feldstein (1925 - 2014)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSiCueyAfpSp0Gu0F_Ma4ZIw7siA9NzH_OVeprWQ-u5o6hbT4L_-6hqtPThYdwct8N4_FhUXiFcnRXxF2C7V5o9uLwqxNAUOPWeniLqL2jD-ezhlgUKfxFfO61NRL3zXa-Arj0IAM4Q_9/s1600/Berg+(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSiCueyAfpSp0Gu0F_Ma4ZIw7siA9NzH_OVeprWQ-u5o6hbT4L_-6hqtPThYdwct8N4_FhUXiFcnRXxF2C7V5o9uLwqxNAUOPWeniLqL2jD-ezhlgUKfxFfO61NRL3zXa-Arj0IAM4Q_9/s1600/Berg+(1).jpg" width="348" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Dave Berg (1920 - 2002)<br /><br /></span><h1 style="line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 18pt; font-weight: normal;">Dave Berg, created Mad's 'Lighter Side' strip, dies at 81<o:p></o:p></span></h1><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 9pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: grey; font-family: arial; font-size: 7.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">LOS ANGELES, May 24 (AP) — Dave Berg, who affectionately <b>spoofed</b> what he called "the human condition" in the pages of MAD magazine for more than 40 years, died <b><span style="color: orange;">16 May 2002</span></b>, at his home in Marina del Rey, California. He was 81.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Berg created the magazine's enduring "<b><span style="color: orange;">The Lighter Side of</span></b>" comic strip. He began working for Mad as a freelancer in 1956, introducing "The Lighter Side of" in <b><span style="color: orange;">1961</span></b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">"They were satirizing commercials, movies and TV programs," he once told Contemporary Authors. "I added something new: people. That's when `The Lighter Side' was born. It was more than just gags, it was a psychological and sociological study of the human condition, and truth in humor."<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">He often put friends, family members and colleagues into his cartoons, among them William M. Gaines, the publisher of MAD, whose head appeared mounted, like a deer's, on a wall.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; line-height: 18.4px;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He also drew <b><span style="color: orange;">himself</span></b> into the strip regularly as <b><span style="color: orange;">Roger Kaputnik</span></b>, an Everyman with an always-present pipe.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Berg "saw the American scene as a wonderful example of our culture, our society and our life, and did comments on that," said Nick Meglin, co-editor of Mad.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Dave Berg was born in <b><span style="color: orange;">Brooklyn</span></b>, NY in <b><span style="color: orange;">2 June 1920</span></b>. <span style="line-height: 16.5pt;">Berg attended the Pratt Institute when he was 12 years old and later Cooper Union School of Art in New York, landing a job inking backgrounds for the newspaper comic strip "The Spirit" when he was 20. In 1940 he joined Will Eisner's studio, where he wrote and drew for the Quality Comics line. Berg's work also appeared in Dell Comics and Fawcett Publications. In the mid-1940s, he worked with Stan Lee on comic books at Timely Comics (now Marvel Comics), ranging from Combat Kelly and The Ringo Kid to Tessie the Typist. He also freelanced for EC Comics and other before moving on to MAD, which </span><span style="line-height: 16.5pt;">he described as "the main attraction, the big event, the grand opening."</span></span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="line-height: 16.5pt;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 16.5pt;">During World War II, he was a member of the Army Air Corps and served as a war correspondent in Iwo Jima, Guam, Saipan and Japan.</span></span></span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In addition to his magazine work, Mr. Berg wrote and illustrated 17 books for Mad, including "Mad's Dave Berg Looks at Living," "Mad's Dave Berg Looks at Things," and "Mad's Dave Berg Looks at the USA."<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He also produced two humorous books on religion, "My Friend God" and "Roger Kaputnik and God."<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 7.5pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">by The Associated Press</span><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">published 25 May 2002.</span></span></div></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFSDFGb4X7Hajk1qQYPgArkE5EYbkJ2OybzNdmNygsSgEpqWrNQAqJ_GauGr3WdCkA2sHC0WLFXfXRqlfki0kaOI3MhO6snLp6bAXrVUvwR6EJs11dGxb8JSGkal_03EY8GSbnZ7hI9uN3/s1600/Berg-4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFSDFGb4X7Hajk1qQYPgArkE5EYbkJ2OybzNdmNygsSgEpqWrNQAqJ_GauGr3WdCkA2sHC0WLFXfXRqlfki0kaOI3MhO6snLp6bAXrVUvwR6EJs11dGxb8JSGkal_03EY8GSbnZ7hI9uN3/s1600/Berg-4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghbEQQ3csQ_9V8wIq1eJBMLLiE0WomjYRNIVEeBQhnAfqPlrXpRFfX009TetOQZEEoglcm_E38809X6g5zEVk0MAFnGMl3Id5AQukwY38VbOzZIyTeN6w7fRso6lIa74rW2-WtCy2Bbgf7/s1600/Berg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghbEQQ3csQ_9V8wIq1eJBMLLiE0WomjYRNIVEeBQhnAfqPlrXpRFfX009TetOQZEEoglcm_E38809X6g5zEVk0MAFnGMl3Id5AQukwY38VbOzZIyTeN6w7fRso6lIa74rW2-WtCy2Bbgf7/s1600/Berg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-77026686862422405632020-10-24T10:07:00.001-07:002021-10-18T04:52:46.381-07:00James Baldwyn's 'Uptown' <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5pBhlxv_soU0fMytXqCAizARFHZbIOSImY_7YLQAvIH-TfYJFm691_cXL5fV9sBjNj_ijoy-KtirH1P2w2DVWU0Nq_ZF3Ti8aPGwBZJeFEHDVX5uwCxBf5Q2FFNghnwhGhory3WcUmfWm/s1600/Nobody_Knows_My_Name_-_James_Baldwin.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5pBhlxv_soU0fMytXqCAizARFHZbIOSImY_7YLQAvIH-TfYJFm691_cXL5fV9sBjNj_ijoy-KtirH1P2w2DVWU0Nq_ZF3Ti8aPGwBZJeFEHDVX5uwCxBf5Q2FFNghnwhGhory3WcUmfWm/s1600/Nobody_Knows_My_Name_-_James_Baldwin.jpg" /></a></p><p><b style="color: orange; font-family: arial;"><span lang="pt" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px; mso-ansi-language: #0016; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Fifth Avenue, Uptown</span></b><span lang="pt" style="color: orange; font-family: arial;">: </span><b style="color: orange; font-family: arial;"><span lang="pt">A letter from Harlem</span></b></p><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="pt">James Baldwin <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span><span lang="pt">first appeared in 'Esquire', July 1960.</span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">There is a<b> Housing Project </b>standing now where the house in which we grew up once stood, and one of those stunted city trees is snarling where our doorway used to be. This is on the rehabilitated side of the avenue. The other side of the avenue - for progress takes time - has not been rehabilitated yet and it looks exactly as it looked in the days when we sat with our noses pressed against the window-pane, longing to be allowed to go 'across the street.' The grocery store which gave us credit is still there, and there can be no doubt that it is still giving credit. The people in the Project certainly need it - far more, indeed, than they ever needed the Project. The last time I passed by, the Jewish proprietor was still standing among his shelves, looking sadder and heavier but scarcely any older. Farther down the block stands the shoe-repair store in which our shoes were repaired until reparation became impossible and in which, then, we bought all our 'new' ones. The Negro proprietor is still in the window, head down, working at the leather.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">The avenue is elsewhere the renowned and elegant <b><span style="color: orange;">Fifth</span></b>. The area I am describing, which, in today's gang parlance, would be called 'the turf', is bounded by <b><span style="color: orange;">Lenox Avenue </span></b>on the west, the <b><span style="color: orange;">Harlem River</span> </b>on the east, <b><span style="color: orange;">135th Street</span> </b>on the north, and <b><span style="color: orange;">130th Street</span> </b>on the south. We never lived beyond these boundaries; this is where I grew up. Walking along 145th Street - for example - familiar as it is, and similar, does not have the same impact because I do not know any of the people on the block. But when I turn east on <b><span style="color: orange;">131st Street</span> </b>and <b><span style="color: orange;">Lenox Avenue</span></b>, there is first a soda-pop joint, then a shoeshine 'parlor', then a grocery store, then a dry-cleaners', then the houses. All along the street there are people who watched me grow up along with my brothers and sisters; and, sometimes in my arms, sometimes underfoot, sometimes at my shoulder - or on it - their children, a riot, a forest of children, who include my nieces and nephews.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">When we reach the end of this long block, we find ourselves on wide, filthy, hostile <b><span style="color: orange;">Fifth Avenue</span></b>, facing that Project which hangs over the avenue like a monument to the folly, and the cowardice, of good intentions. All along the block, for anyone who knows it, are immense human gaps, like craters. These gaps are not created merely by those who have moved away, inevitably into some other ghetto; or by those who have risen, almost always into a greater capacity for self-loathing and self-delusion; or yet by those who, by whatever means - World War II, the Korean war, a policeman's gun or billy, a gang war, a brawl, madness, an overdose of heroin, or, simply, unnatural exhaustion - are dead.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">I am talking about those who are left, and I am talking principally about the young . What are they doing? Well, some, a minority, are fanatical church-goers, members of the more extreme of the Holy Roller sects. Many, many more are 'moslems' by affiliation or sympathy, that is to say that they are united by nothing more - and nothing less - than a hatred of the white world and all its works. They are present, for example, at every Buy Black street-corner meeting - meetings in which the speaker urges his hearers to cease trading with white men and establish a separate economy. Neither the speaker nor his hearers can possibly do this, of course, since Negroes do not own <i>General Motors</i> or <i>RCA</i> or the <i>A&P</i>, nor, indeed, do they own more than a wholly insufficient fraction of anything else in Harlem (those who do own anything are more interested in their profits than in their felllows). But these meetings nevertheless keep alive in the participators a certain <b><span style="color: orange;">pride of bitterness</span></b> without which, however futile this bitterness may be, they could scarcely remain alive at all. Many have given up. They stay home and watch the TV screens, living on the earnings of their parents, cousins, brothers, or uncles, and only leave the house to go to the movies or to the nearest bar. 'How're you making it?' one may ask, running into them along the block, or in the bar. 'Oh, I'm TV-ing it'; with the saddest, sweetest, most shamefaced of smiles, and from a great distance. This distance one is compelled to respect; anyone who has traveled so far will not easily be dragged again into the world. There are further retreats, of course, than the TV screen or the bar. There are those who are simply sitting on their stoops, 'stoned', animated for a moment only, and hideously, by the approach of someone from whom they can purchase it, one of the shrewd ones, on the way to prison or just coming out. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">And the others, who have avoided all of these deaths, get up in the morning and go downtown to meet 'the man'. They work in the white man's world all day and come home in the evening to this fetid block. They struggle to instill in their children some private sense of honour or dignity which will help the child to survive. This means, of course, that they must struggle, stolidly, incessantly, to keep this sense alive in themselves, in spite of the insults, the indifference, and the cruelty they are certain to encounter in their working day. They patiently browbeat the landlord into fixing the heat, the plaster, the plumbing; this demands prodigious patience; nor is patience usually enough. In trying to make their hovels habitable, they are perpetually throwing good money after bad. Such frustration, so long endured, is driving many strong, admirable men and women whose only crime is colour to the very gates of paranoia.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">One remembers them from another time - playing handball in the playground, going to church, wondering if they were going to be promoted at school. One remembers them going off to war - gladly, to escape this block. One remembers their return. Perhaps one remembers their wedding day. And one sees where the girl is now - vainly looking for salvation from some other embittered, trussed, and struggling boy - and sees the all-but-abandoned children in the streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">Now I am perfectly aware that there are other slums in which white men are fighting for their lives, and mainly losing. I know that blood is also flowing through those streets and that the human damage there is incalculable. People are continually pointing out to me the wretchedness of white people in order to console me for the wretchedness of blacks. But an itemized account of the American failure does not console me and it should not console anyone else. That hundreds of thousands of white people are living, in effect, no better than the 'niggers' is not a fact to be regarded with complacency. The social and moral bankruptcy suggested by this fact is of the bitterest, most terrifying kind. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">The people, however, who believe that this democratic anguish has some consoling value are always pointing ou that So-and-So, white, and So-and-So, black, rose from the slums into the big time. The existence - the public existence - of, say <i>Frank Sinatra</i> and <i>Sammy Davis, Jr.</i> proves to them that America is still the land of opportunity and that inequalities vanish before the determined will. It proves nothing of the sort. The determined will is rare – at the moment, in this country, it is unspeakably rare – and the inequalities suffered by the many are in no way justified by the rise of the few. A few have always risen – in every country, every era, and in the teeth of regimes which can by no stretch of the imagination be thouht of as free. Not all of tese people, it is worth remembering, left the worl better than they found it. The determinded will is rare, but it is not invariably benevolent. Furthermore, the American equation of success with the big time reveals an awful <span style="color: orange;">disrespect for human life</span> and human achievement. This equation has placed our cities among the most dangerous in the world and has placed our youth among the most empty and most bewildered. The situation of our youth is not mysterious. Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them. They must, they have no other models. That is exactly what our children are doing. They are <span style="color: orange;">imitating our immorality</span>, our disrespect for the pain of others.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="pt">All other slum dwellers, when the bank account permits it, can move out of the slum and vanish altogether form the eye of persecution. No Negro in this country has ever made that much money and i will be a long time before any Negro does. The Negroes in Harlem, who have ne money, spend what they have on such gimcracks as they are sold. These include ‘wider’ TV screens, more ‘faithful’ hi-fi sets, more ‘powerful’ cars, all of which, of course, are obsolete long before they are paid for. Abnueone who has ever struggeled with poverty knows how extremely expensive it is to be poor; and if one is a member of a captive population, economically spealing, one’s feet have simply been placed on the treadmill forever. One is victmized, economically, in a thousand ways – rent, for example, or car insurance. Go shopping one day in Harlem – for anything – and compare Harlem prices and quality with those downtown.</span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">The people who have managed to get off this block have only got as far as a more respectable ghetto. This respectable ghetto does not even have the advantages of the disreputable one – friends, neighbours, a familiar church, and friendly tradesman; and it is not, moreover, in the nature of any ghetto to remain respectable long. Every Sunday, people who have left the block take the lonely ride back, dragging their increasingly discontented children with them. They spend the day talking, not always with words, about the trouble they’ve seen and the trouble – one must watch their eyes as they watch their children – they are only too likely to see. For children do not like ghettos. It takes them nearly no time do discover exactly why they are there.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">The <b><span style="color: orange;">Projects</span></b> in <span style="color: orange;">Harlem</span> are hated. They are hated almost as much as policemen, and this is saying a greta deal. And they are hated for the same reason: both reveal, unbearably, the real attitude of the white world, no matter how many liberal speeches are made, no matter how many lofty editorials are written, no matter how many civil-rights commissions are set up.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">The Projects are hideous, of course, there being a law, apparently respected throughout the world, that <b><span style="color: orange;">popular housing</span></b> shall be as cheerless as a prison. They are lumped all over Harlem, colourless, bleak, high and revolting. The wide windows look out on Harlem’s invincible and indescribable squalor: Park Avenue rail-road tracks, around which, about forty years ago, the present dark community began; the unrehabilitated houses, bowed down, it would seem, under the great weight of frustration and bitterness they contain; the dark, the ominous schoolhouses from which the child may emerge maimed, blinded, hooked, or enraged for life; and the churches, churches, block upon block of churches, niched in the walls like cannon in the walls of of a fortress. Even if the administration of the Projects were not so insanely humiliating (for example: one must report raises in salary to the management, which will then eat up the profit by raising one’s rent; themanagement has the right to know who is staying in your apartment; the management can ask you to leave, at their discretion), the Projects would still be hated because they are an insult to the meanest intelligence.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">Harlem has got its first private project, Riverton – which is now, naturally, a slum – about twelve years ago because at that time Negroes were not allowed to live in Stuyvesant Town. Harlem watched Riverton go up, therefore, in the most violent bitterness of spirit, and hated it at about the time people began moving out of their condemned houses to make room for this additional proof of how thoroughly the white world despised them. And they had scarcely moved in, naturally, before they began smashing windows, defacing walls, urinating in the elevators, and fornicating in the playgrounds. Liberals, both white and black were appalled at the spectacle. I was appalled by the liberal innocence – or cynicism, which comes out in practice as much the same thing. Other people were delighted to be able to point to proof positive that nothing could be done to better the lot of the coloured people. They were, and are, right in one respect: that nothing can be done as long as they are treated like coloured people. The people in Harlem know they are living there because white people do not think they are good enough to live anywhere else. Whatever money is now being earmarked to improve this, or any other ghetto, might as well be burnt. A ghetto can be improved in one way only: out of existence.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="pt">Similarly, the only way to police a ghetto is to be oppressive. None of the Police Commissioner’s men, even with the best will in the world, have any way of understanding the lives led by the people they swagger about in twos and threes controlling. Their very presence is an insult, and it would be, even if they spent their entire day feeding gumdrops to children. They represent the force of the white world, and that world’s real intentions are, simply, for that world’s criminal profit and ease, to keep the black man corraled up here, in his place. The badge, the gun in the holster, and the swinging club make vivid what will happen should his rebellion become overt. Rare, indeed, is the Harlem citizen, from the most circumspect church member to the most shiftless adolescent, who does not have a long tale to tell of police incompetence, injustice, or brutality. I myself have witnessed and endured it more than once. The businessmen and racketeers also have a story. And so do the prostitutes. (And this is not, perhaps, the place to discuss Harlem’s very complex attitude toward black policemen, nor the reasons, according to Harlem, that they are nearly all downtown.)<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">It is hard, on the other hand, to blame the policeman, blank, good-natured, thoughtless, and insuperably innocent, for being such a perfec representative of the people he serves. He, too, believes in good intentions and is astounded and offended when they are not taken for the deed. He has never, himself, done anything for which to be hated – which of us has? – and yet he is facing, daily and nightly, people who would gladly see him dead, and he knows it. There is no way for him not to know it: there are few things under heaven more unnerving than the silent, accumulating contempt and hatred of a people. He moves through Harlem, therefore, like an accupying soldier in a bitterly hostile country; which is precisely what, and where he is, and is the reason he walks in twos and threes. And he is not the only one who knows why he is always in company: people who are watching him know why, too. Any street meeting, sacred or secular, which he and his colleagues uneasily cover has as its explicit or implicit burden the cruelty and injustice of the white domination. And these days, of course, in terms increasingly vivid and jubilant, it speaks of the end of that domination. The white policeman standing on a Harlem street corner finds himself at the very centre of the revolution now occurring in the world. He is not prepared for it – naturally, nobody is – and, what is possibly much more to the point, he is exposed, as few white people are, to the anguish of the black people around him. Even if he is gifted with the merest mustard grain of imagination, something must seep in. He cannot avoid observing that some of the children, in spite of their colour, remind him of children he has known and loved, perhaps even of his own children. He knows that he certainly does not want his children living this way. He can retreat from his uneasiness in only one direction: into a callousness which very shortly becomes second nature. He becomes more callous , the population becomes more hostile, the situation grows more tense, and the police force is increased. One day, to everyone’s astonishment, someone drops a match in the powder keg and everything blows up. Before the dust has settled or the blood congealed, editorials, speeches, and civil-rights commissions are loud in the land, demanding to know what happened. What happened is that Negroes want to be treated like men.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><span lang="pt"><b>Negroes want to be treated like men</b></span></i><span lang="pt">: a perfectly straightforward statement, containing only seven words. People who have mastered <i>Kant, Hegel, Shakespeare, Marx, Freud</i>, and the <i>Bible</i> find this statement utterly impenetrable. The idea seems to threaten profound, barely conscious assumptions. A kind of panic paralyzes their features, as though they found themselves trapped on the edge of a steep place. I once tried to describe to a very well-known American intellectual the conditions among Negroes in the South. My recital disturbed him and made him indignant; and he asked me in perfect innocence, ‘Why don’t all the Negroes in the South move North?’ I tried to explain what has happened, unfailingly, whenever a signficant body of Negroes move North. They do not escape <b><span style="color: orange;">Jim Crow</span></b>: they merely encounter another, not-less-deadly variety. They do not move to Chicago, they move to South Side; they do not move to New York, they move to Harlem. The pressure within the ghetto causes the ghetto walls to expand, and this expansion is always violent. White people hold the line as long as they can, and in as many ways as they can, from verbal intimidation to physical violence. But inevitably the border which has divided the ghetto from the resto of the worl falls into the hands of the ghetto. The white pople fall back bitterly before the black horde; the landords make a tidy profit by raising the rent, chopping up the rooms, an all but dipensing with the upkeep; andwhat has once been a neighbourhood turns into a ‘turf’. This is precisely what happened when the Puerto Ricans arrived in their thousands – and the bitterness thus caused is, as I write, being fought out all up and down those streets. <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">Northerners indulge in an extremely dangerous luxury. They seem to feel that because they fought on the right side during the Civil War, and won, they have earned the right merely to deplore what is going on in the South, without taking any responsability for it; and that they can ignore what is happening in Northern cities because what is happening in Little Rock or Birmingham is worse. Well, in the first place, it is not possible for anyone who has not endured both to know which is ‘worse’. I know Negroes who prefer the South and white Southerners because ‘<i>At least there, you haven’t got to play any guessing games!</i>’ The guessing games referred to have driven more than one Negro into the narcotics ward, the madhouse, or the river. I know another Negro, a man very dear to me, who says, with conviction and with truth, ‘<i>The spirit of the</i> <i>South is the spirit of America</i>.’ He was born in the North and did his military in the South. He did not, as far as I can gather, find the South ‘worse’; he found it, if anything, all too familiar. In the second place, though, even if Birmingham is worse, no doubt Johannesburg, South Afric, beats it by several miles, and Buchenwald was one of the worst things that ever happened in the entire history of the world. The world has never lacked for horrifying examples; but I do not believe that these examples are meant to be used as justification for our own crimes. This perpetual justification empties the heart of all human feeling. The emptier our hearts become, the greater will be our crimes. Thirdly, the South is not merely an embarrassingly backward region, but a part of this country, and what happens there concerns every one of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">As far as the colour problem is concerned, there is but one great difference between the Southern white and the Northerner: the Southerner remembers, historically and in his own psyche, a kind of Eden in which he loved black people and they loved him. Historically, the flaming sword laid across this Eden is the Civil War. Personally, it is the Southerner’s sexual coming of age, when, without any warning, unbreakable taboos are set up between himself and his past. Everything, thereafter, is permitted him except the love he remembers and has never ceased to need. The resulting, indescribable torment affects every Southern mind and is the basis of the Southern hysteria.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">None of this is true for the Northerner. Negroes represent nothing to him personally, except, perhaps, the dangers of carnality. He never sees Negroes. Southerners see them all the time. Northerners never think about them whereas Southerners are never really thinking of anything else. Negroes are, therefore, ignored in the North and are under surveillance in the South, and suffer hideously in both places. Neither the Southerner nor the Northerner is able to look on the Negro simply as a man. It seems to be indispensable to the national self-esteem that the Negro be considered either as a kind of ward (in which case we are told how many Negroes, comparatively, bought Cadillacs last year and how few, comparatively, were lynched), or as a victim (in which case we are promised that he will never vote in our assemblies or go to school with our kids). They are two sides of the same coin and the South will not change – cannot change until it reexamines itself and discovers what it really means by freedom. In the meantime, generations keep being born, bitterness is increased by incompetence, pride, and folly, and the world shrinks around us.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="pt">It is a terrible, and inexorable, law that one cannot deny the humanity of another without diminishing one’s own: in the face of one’s victim, one sees oneself. Walk through the streets of Harlem and see what we, this nation, have become.</span><span lang="pt"><br /></span><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pH8nYuV524zE_tvOpT-OKQfU4eQCCGn8y0LP6hUL8jzaVUcYuk4I3gvGD_iP5M3UakXfbflOYkBmoTQw3MAxifAZzaAg2ahPMMughGOtaFTLTp1NmuWOg2Sc_7TDNuiia2bmTGZJMFtE/s1600/2966.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pH8nYuV524zE_tvOpT-OKQfU4eQCCGn8y0LP6hUL8jzaVUcYuk4I3gvGD_iP5M3UakXfbflOYkBmoTQw3MAxifAZzaAg2ahPMMughGOtaFTLTp1NmuWOg2Sc_7TDNuiia2bmTGZJMFtE/s640/2966.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJX7Piy22TVIakrjz1eXfmxRzpVP6CbVkC7NpLVDiNACsHULLZ_YWI5_g2f-of8qDBqRV_HrAXfJQSkgl693LDwW2U_DVh48Ca5NJnKfivNbbGjQOc-EsE86J1Rda1NuoddnBsEuzjro17/s1600/James+Baldwin+-+NYC.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJX7Piy22TVIakrjz1eXfmxRzpVP6CbVkC7NpLVDiNACsHULLZ_YWI5_g2f-of8qDBqRV_HrAXfJQSkgl693LDwW2U_DVh48Ca5NJnKfivNbbGjQOc-EsE86J1Rda1NuoddnBsEuzjro17/s400/James+Baldwin+-+NYC.jpg" width="341" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">James Baldwin</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4GqZo12QGYPrlL-3XScIukojs3wM1y0wxPOJ9xcpBIIb-dp0_0T-v0LR6bMKNNyzL0yszdhMQ5jeRUtD5IE3fZNWe-ahQ3_m4HU7qO6mNFF5ZJGUx2V0q1hFTU16zau9tlmTFPNRUdNJ/s1600/926331.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4GqZo12QGYPrlL-3XScIukojs3wM1y0wxPOJ9xcpBIIb-dp0_0T-v0LR6bMKNNyzL0yszdhMQ5jeRUtD5IE3fZNWe-ahQ3_m4HU7qO6mNFF5ZJGUx2V0q1hFTU16zau9tlmTFPNRUdNJ/s400/926331.jpg" width="328" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span lang="pt" style="font-family: arial;">The Crystals </span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="pt" style="color: orange;"><b>UPTOWN</b></span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span><span lang="pt">He gets up each morning and he goes Downtown</span><br /><span lang="pt">where everyone's his boss and he's lost in an angry land, </span>he's a little man<br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span><span lang="pt">But then, he comes Uptown each evening to my tenement</span><br /><span lang="pt">Uptown where folks don't have to pay much rent</span><br /><span lang="pt">and when he's there with me, he can see that he's everything</span><br /><span lang="pt">then he's tall, he don't crawl, he's a king</span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span><span lang="pt">Downtown, he's just one of a million guys</span><br /><span lang="pt">he don't get no breaks and he takes all they got to give</span><br /><span lang="pt">'cause he's got to live</span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span><span lang="pt">But then, he comes Uptown where he can hold his head up high</span><br /><span lang="pt">Uptown, he knows that I'll be standing by</span><br /><span lang="pt">and when I take his hand, there's no man who could put him down</span><br /><span lang="pt">the world is sweet, it's at his feet when he's Uptown.</span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span><span lang="pt">Whoa-oa-oa-oa-oa</span><br /><span lang="pt">yeah yeah yeah ...</span><br /><span lang="pt"><br /></span><span lang="pt">written by <b><span style="color: orange;">Barry Mann</span></b> & <b><span style="color: orange;">Cynthia Weil</span></b></span><br /><span lang="pt">performed by <b><span style="color: orange;">The Crystals </span></b></span>1962<br /><br />https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=od0UQCzr784<br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPi3caI4-Eon78O7VUpWPMm_vXRKgFstQZ67ToVIilaWHGFdz-ZucLpQAS97xOSUP_CzkQrTO7ztr8A9PJrYhD2Tn7f33U1yiTdN7jddNvn2YRQIe0uKkZ3cVTSXVNrK1wEe3DY07uq0d/s1600/6208141147_fe94b9e90a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="377" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPi3caI4-Eon78O7VUpWPMm_vXRKgFstQZ67ToVIilaWHGFdz-ZucLpQAS97xOSUP_CzkQrTO7ztr8A9PJrYhD2Tn7f33U1yiTdN7jddNvn2YRQIe0uKkZ3cVTSXVNrK1wEe3DY07uq0d/s400/6208141147_fe94b9e90a.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpHhYsUCZ_34EBaE9_qk0MNc76ivWegm_uIdenwWJJfpcSFKMGbe06RtQ5XFMa0ldCRdc7HETqlI94-YrlT-ZwyYxojGjCDKCCV0z14loVodzJ-u-HaM75kdEqC1CeE_S0mWpyb0guVfY-/s1600/james-baldwin-marlon-brando.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpHhYsUCZ_34EBaE9_qk0MNc76ivWegm_uIdenwWJJfpcSFKMGbe06RtQ5XFMa0ldCRdc7HETqlI94-YrlT-ZwyYxojGjCDKCCV0z14loVodzJ-u-HaM75kdEqC1CeE_S0mWpyb0guVfY-/s400/james-baldwin-marlon-brando.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">James Baldwin & Marlon Brando in Washington, D.C. in 1963.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqm6lajnScRnzoV3IHlWCopzvTQoy0owOYNBeI8_ro9rPBuT0MDEdx0PUd-IEpTPrFs5cnnjpccfEBY6cGAASmMgRgNAe9ZEM9odYJwbEm7rs9slzQ37ySjIpDv91NNP9SL0V3I9N1H-ke/s1600/fd5a4015700c843984ce62ba621f929b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqm6lajnScRnzoV3IHlWCopzvTQoy0owOYNBeI8_ro9rPBuT0MDEdx0PUd-IEpTPrFs5cnnjpccfEBY6cGAASmMgRgNAe9ZEM9odYJwbEm7rs9slzQ37ySjIpDv91NNP9SL0V3I9N1H-ke/s640/fd5a4015700c843984ce62ba621f929b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">James Baldwyn & Bob Dylan.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVnXS40g7p6mAUkn5zG5GIdPHeBljW4G6RlurM4wrWsWc3Atg-QIhgqe7YXcuzmQEs3dZ4rQc079FNDu1ram4dAAyJRJL-lcUMws-Dd4y4J4bvvj8HNtM15xGfMylRKgJrDto2cZgq8K9/s1600/d725da4d43aad6a5d5a4a226203cfb29.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVnXS40g7p6mAUkn5zG5GIdPHeBljW4G6RlurM4wrWsWc3Atg-QIhgqe7YXcuzmQEs3dZ4rQc079FNDu1ram4dAAyJRJL-lcUMws-Dd4y4J4bvvj8HNtM15xGfMylRKgJrDto2cZgq8K9/s1600/d725da4d43aad6a5d5a4a226203cfb29.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOR8tgKOPg7nHbgzIowCP40MAQ5D7HRYvSqEA7wQgJVQhaTI6mDxkDVbocjLQo1M0a-ndu8gPk13iEDNHvMXsrnoRrpA_sW-VUsQMWgXjQ59p4i1FnkCukYUa3PJ8tH6BMkO8G7SzytsnZ/s1600/NY2_143.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOR8tgKOPg7nHbgzIowCP40MAQ5D7HRYvSqEA7wQgJVQhaTI6mDxkDVbocjLQo1M0a-ndu8gPk13iEDNHvMXsrnoRrpA_sW-VUsQMWgXjQ59p4i1FnkCukYUa3PJ8tH6BMkO8G7SzytsnZ/s640/NY2_143.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttpG-yMWNc2k9hUoMhuG7weKlBVXaDmw7OxGvEmxyU2-41DqjgftLq71QP2FzZeyBKu9itMT9_F9D-PE_Q2zwFPYvF9AzEg4IoQirizRSxLDZRzYJlWIPicQwFOTVqWO-bwhiT9gVlIqS/s1600/13scapes_span.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttpG-yMWNc2k9hUoMhuG7weKlBVXaDmw7OxGvEmxyU2-41DqjgftLq71QP2FzZeyBKu9itMT9_F9D-PE_Q2zwFPYvF9AzEg4IoQirizRSxLDZRzYJlWIPicQwFOTVqWO-bwhiT9gVlIqS/s640/13scapes_span.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzdhUQlm9t6aD-hBV4vlce8JZkCWRLbdsqXEnRa-DxfeuJefeTiVoHXYXUEMbwql3AKACxrtG3qDN8qozC7wkfKnD0cQgotLweq55YrTpf_XeguKw_zuaE4GvV53zOYLS9jcM8oNT4O6I/s1600/4785173963_2f2fd066aa_z.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzdhUQlm9t6aD-hBV4vlce8JZkCWRLbdsqXEnRa-DxfeuJefeTiVoHXYXUEMbwql3AKACxrtG3qDN8qozC7wkfKnD0cQgotLweq55YrTpf_XeguKw_zuaE4GvV53zOYLS9jcM8oNT4O6I/s640/4785173963_2f2fd066aa_z.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: orange;"><b>Park Avenue Railroad Tracks & Tunnels - East Harlem</b></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />The Park Avenue Tunnel connects 4 tracks of the Metro-North Railroad from Grand Central Terminal and 4nd Street to 97th Street in the New York City borough of Manhattan. The tunnel portal rises to a full viaduct by 99th Street. Wikipedia.<br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYxUtZQFxUejiqJaN2Pq_nH1-qjDgoxnHDxDzmPduv3CadeaHVo81C8sxQIA2ZCnXiEM5TQboJGG2lKXkNONwSMcVfxLYOTwx1Djq_c6WcQNrsnjYV4zzu1I4FnIIfwpF30lD04-aznALG/s1600/090209_r18202_p233.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYxUtZQFxUejiqJaN2Pq_nH1-qjDgoxnHDxDzmPduv3CadeaHVo81C8sxQIA2ZCnXiEM5TQboJGG2lKXkNONwSMcVfxLYOTwx1Djq_c6WcQNrsnjYV4zzu1I4FnIIfwpF30lD04-aznALG/s16000/090209_r18202_p233.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Harlem 1963.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nvWnADSGpCPZpcw6IxoPftlj8_nr5S4wMGsdjAWbtpyKHqX92sX1A6kjG1d3u8JTqYClxHzVpsrUtlmeDk6rbDkYcrCoQfNyZIHIXvxc74ZmmccNmqOlnO5LGQzn5nwcMIRBD_PBoYuX/s1600/9780743293075_p0_v1_s260x420.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nvWnADSGpCPZpcw6IxoPftlj8_nr5S4wMGsdjAWbtpyKHqX92sX1A6kjG1d3u8JTqYClxHzVpsrUtlmeDk6rbDkYcrCoQfNyZIHIXvxc74ZmmccNmqOlnO5LGQzn5nwcMIRBD_PBoYuX/s320/9780743293075_p0_v1_s260x420.jpg" width="207" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLPqjGl8fGJwBryzdyfnAoSG8hnr9_MS5oA9-PUSR1tVuRiNNAVX9Rz8t3hDNLYNCqF3ZNsUJ5QfJdPyuxj_F_EbF0yKh9fhocibnG8PRcP4MZoJGGgkqjGrANzDEOWals3kwu9XednFq2/s1600/James+Baldwin+-+TIME.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLPqjGl8fGJwBryzdyfnAoSG8hnr9_MS5oA9-PUSR1tVuRiNNAVX9Rz8t3hDNLYNCqF3ZNsUJ5QfJdPyuxj_F_EbF0yKh9fhocibnG8PRcP4MZoJGGgkqjGrANzDEOWals3kwu9XednFq2/s320/James+Baldwin+-+TIME.jpg" width="243" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">James Baldwin on the cover of Time magazine - 17 May 1963.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrfJZc7qEQZNZtibQjEfkdtqeVdyipV1K377K1gsbiBA_Bbf4iXE2mLz1-BVjPoVzkRXCdhbCkdhRbs4-3HWGAuMySb3IQw8lG_9Vki7NzP5Nr1GgGBG_8Ln4lABvE5teumpSzODhUojO/s1600/baldwin1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrfJZc7qEQZNZtibQjEfkdtqeVdyipV1K377K1gsbiBA_Bbf4iXE2mLz1-BVjPoVzkRXCdhbCkdhRbs4-3HWGAuMySb3IQw8lG_9Vki7NzP5Nr1GgGBG_8Ln4lABvE5teumpSzODhUojO/s320/baldwin1.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pH8nYuV524zE_tvOpT-OKQfU4eQCCGn8y0LP6hUL8jzaVUcYuk4I3gvGD_iP5M3UakXfbflOYkBmoTQw3MAxifAZzaAg2ahPMMughGOtaFTLTp1NmuWOg2Sc_7TDNuiia2bmTGZJMFtE/s1600/2966.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pH8nYuV524zE_tvOpT-OKQfU4eQCCGn8y0LP6hUL8jzaVUcYuk4I3gvGD_iP5M3UakXfbflOYkBmoTQw3MAxifAZzaAg2ahPMMughGOtaFTLTp1NmuWOg2Sc_7TDNuiia2bmTGZJMFtE/s1600/2966.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-61282094433702682632020-10-10T03:58:00.004-07:002020-10-10T03:58:43.803-07:00Saint John, the Divine<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxMw1P7cYv92GOxmn3nHwR5ZYSN08BY-LUiG-dCG2TUEsDGeij8-uNrOszzBtgSlNkog-fUz7HTRKYbWzLSCFJf7VPuvNCS09Te9MErarhfly1tEBaF6TW5F6l4t9eGKYSQ3ByrafUIOJ/s1600/newyork004.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxMw1P7cYv92GOxmn3nHwR5ZYSN08BY-LUiG-dCG2TUEsDGeij8-uNrOszzBtgSlNkog-fUz7HTRKYbWzLSCFJf7VPuvNCS09Te9MErarhfly1tEBaF6TW5F6l4t9eGKYSQ3ByrafUIOJ/s640/newyork004.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-3ZQh9lwjd61gkeawnfKZVOok5DPSaOsVSRYf-uPU1KwA8VW1UF40DwDjYsu4uPZMkImzJGCs3_LxUCMCmBDKV_exShhAV5G20Rky23dYtcX2zjhxcv9KU2mewBRGyqDMIAbCSrQ8w6X/s1600/26ALEXANDER1-articleLarge.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-3ZQh9lwjd61gkeawnfKZVOok5DPSaOsVSRYf-uPU1KwA8VW1UF40DwDjYsu4uPZMkImzJGCs3_LxUCMCmBDKV_exShhAV5G20Rky23dYtcX2zjhxcv9KU2mewBRGyqDMIAbCSrQ8w6X/s1600/26ALEXANDER1-articleLarge.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-44201290585053993622020-10-09T14:37:00.011-07:002024-03-24T12:04:57.676-07:00Alison Steel, the Night Bird at WNEW-FM <p><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">Alison Steele</b><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">(born</span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">Ceil Loman</b><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"> in Brooklyn, NY on *</span><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">26 January 1937</b><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">+27 September 1995</b><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">) was an American radio personality, writer, television producer, correspondent, and entrepreneur who was also known by her air name,</span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: orange;">The Nightbird</span></b><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">. She was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.</span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD49dnUoCk9EMWG1_ZgU6z3_MUJiscYjri6MRKil9eBpDxz4c1AJ-1Spe-p7uruPUxjA7yULhgvztc33EuTmWy3lpEZ32YqA_q4WvI2YAYfK8YlcuLrbCaX-e6gycmVAHnirdiyimhzbyE/s1600/WNEWFM_Steele_NYDN19740217KB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="459" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD49dnUoCk9EMWG1_ZgU6z3_MUJiscYjri6MRKil9eBpDxz4c1AJ-1Spe-p7uruPUxjA7yULhgvztc33EuTmWy3lpEZ32YqA_q4WvI2YAYfK8YlcuLrbCaX-e6gycmVAHnirdiyimhzbyE/s1600/WNEWFM_Steele_NYDN19740217KB.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: orange;">Alison Steele</span></b>, the Night Bird of <b><span style="color: orange;">WNEW-FM</span></b>, is the most successful female disc-jockey in the country according to <b>Sunday News</b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">17 February 1974</span></b>.<br /><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Current ratings show that, in any given quarter-hour of her show more than <b><span style="color: orange;">100,000</span></b> people are tuned in to the station. Why do so many people stayed tuned into her ‘nightly excursions’ (<b><span style="color: orange;">Monday</span></b> through <b><span style="color: orange;">Saturday</span></b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">10 p.m.</span></b> to <b><span style="color: orange;">2 a.m.</span></b>) ? One listener said: ‘She has some sort of irresistible quality about her. You can easily fancy her to be something larger than life.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">How did she get where she is? ‘You just don’t become great overnight. You’ve to work at it. If what you want is tough to get, you have to fight for it. It has taken me 7 years of hard work to get where I am right now. However, I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied. Each night I try for a higher plateau and I think my audience responds to my trying.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Her <b>deep</b>, <b>resonant voice</b> is distinctive. She has been called a <b>temptress</b>, and a writer has asserted that she could make a commercial for gym socks sound sensuous.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Finding the bright side</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">‘I have an optmistic philosophy,’ Alison said. ‘I’ve always gone by the idea that there’s something <b>fine in life</b>, but you have to <b>make the effort to find out </b>what it is.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">‘I’m tired of people bitching and moaning that they can’t get a break. I abhor negativism. I’m positive about everything I do. We’re so used to the negativism that has crept into our daily lives, all we can do is put down others who are honestly trying.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Where did Alison Steele get the nerve to challenge this tough, competitive industry?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">‘It was my mother’s influence actually ,’ Alison said with a smile. ‘She taught me a very simple rule: if I wanted something, all I had to do was go and get it. She helped me get self confident when I was 14. There was an ad in our local paper for a tall good-looking girl to fill a part-time slot. I was neither tall nor pretty, but my mother told me to go and get it anyway. I went down, bluffed my way in, then worked hard until I got it right. I was off to a great start.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now, aside from her radio excursions as ‘The Night Bird’, Alison does one other rock radio show, syndicated to 600 stations, a radio show for women, and a TV talk show broadcast over the Sterling Cable TV network that is seen by 55,000 viewers in the New York area.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Happy where she is</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Can success spoil Alison Steele? ‘Not really,’ she replied. ‘I have a lovely job, which is most gratifying, and I love making a lot of money.’ Alison declined to say just how much money she makes. <br /><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Alison does quite a bit of work for local charities. She’s a member of the board of the New York City Chapter of the Epilepsy Foundation, gives a lot of time to the Muscular Dystrophy Foundation and is on the credit committee of the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Her days are busy. She has to listen to the new albums, takes care of personal errands, auditions for commercials and still finds time to answer each fan letter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">‘I’ve hundreds of letters at home I still have to answer. My biggest regret is that I’m 6 to 8 months behind in my replies. But I’ll catch up, I promise.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">‘People call me because they’re lost or upset,’ Alison said. ‘I try and point them in the right direction of self-help and love for oneself. I stress the idea that if you’re positive about things, you’ll enjoy what you have all the more. People call me when they have nowhere else to turn and I’m glad I can help. When I do hear from someone who’s troubled I’m patient and understanding. I listen, ask no names and just give my particular brand of advice. I usually hear from those I’ve spoken to a while and they thank me. God, that makes me feel good! It’s fine to know you’ve helped somebody, somewhere, sometime.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">SUNDAY NEWS <b><span style="color: orange;">17 February 1974</span></b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">By K. Michael Blumberg<br /></span><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpI2hYsbwUyoVTFCes5q53sbpzFUjw1d67xQqLgiaO0kdr1brV6pjJTSxTvByP_aLyadjgQssPgeXlfKQfevIi4T8tfqKJrx15rGlkkUK7o6nFnLlnAwxSj35xEo7cay3_inHkJglqPSjD/s1600/WNEWFM_Steele.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpI2hYsbwUyoVTFCes5q53sbpzFUjw1d67xQqLgiaO0kdr1brV6pjJTSxTvByP_aLyadjgQssPgeXlfKQfevIi4T8tfqKJrx15rGlkkUK7o6nFnLlnAwxSj35xEo7cay3_inHkJglqPSjD/s400/WNEWFM_Steele.jpg" width="257" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbIfbKC5EXf2O12Ot8UKz6ByJn4ICyAALI8yjRC6_QaJha805T0aQ_RJ6IcuINDD5oz6RAofjK7FiTzLcnUBGxrdtqekL2n0_uvAjvgDpoK9PRPjV8CyyX772naa89ruDq-1rwolnNyHi/s1600/WNEWFM_SteelePortraitKB+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="672" data-original-width="529" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbIfbKC5EXf2O12Ot8UKz6ByJn4ICyAALI8yjRC6_QaJha805T0aQ_RJ6IcuINDD5oz6RAofjK7FiTzLcnUBGxrdtqekL2n0_uvAjvgDpoK9PRPjV8CyyX772naa89ruDq-1rwolnNyHi/s400/WNEWFM_SteelePortraitKB+%25282%2529.jpg" width="314" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b style="text-align: justify;">Alison Steele, disk Jockey, dies; the pioneer 'Nightbird' was 58</b><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By David Stout for The New York Times<br />augmented by Wikipedia information<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>28 September 1995</b><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Alison Steele, whose <b><span style="color: orange;">sultry voice</span></b> and <b>iron will</b> helped her become one of the first women in the country to be hired as a disk jockey, died yesterday, <b>27 September 1995</b>, at <b>Lenox Hill Hospital</b> in Manhattan. She was 58.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Steele, who lived in Manhattan, died of cancer, her family said.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She was widely known to late-night radio listeners as "<b><span style="color: orange;">the</span></b> <b><span style="color: orange;">Nightbird</span></b>." Her most recent perch was WXRK, a classic rock-and-roll station at 92.3 FM. She was on Monday through Friday from 2 to 6 A.M.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Steele loved to work hours that most other people find good for sleeping. "<b><span style="color: orange;">I'm a night person</span></b>," she said in 1971, when she was with WNEW, where she worked on AM and FM for about 14 years. "I think it has a mysterious quality. I never get lonely up here."<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She usually received 25 to 30 telephone calls a night; in her early years, she also had her champagne-colored French poodle, Genya, to keep her company, chewing on a bone in the studio as Ms. Steele talked to listeners.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WNX8fG0Fe7DDR2q1PtZ4rO304_7q7WrT6NYfiLr08gOedGCuz5LELV6awZQmj7Y-mXhhLInVj_CdaPVEsvgdumvpkTaLp5RdXVmQXusjEc9rcditXTQUP6Ph8n8tLQBvYoFARCFLpMR8/s1600/Alison.Jack.Beebe+%25282%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="332" data-original-width="424" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WNX8fG0Fe7DDR2q1PtZ4rO304_7q7WrT6NYfiLr08gOedGCuz5LELV6awZQmj7Y-mXhhLInVj_CdaPVEsvgdumvpkTaLp5RdXVmQXusjEc9rcditXTQUP6Ph8n8tLQBvYoFARCFLpMR8/s400/Alison.Jack.Beebe+%25282%2529.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Alison Steele with Jack Beeb.</span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Steele also worked for WPIX radio and often did voice-overs for radio and television commercials, according to <b>her sister</b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">Joyce Loman</span></b>. Her <b>syrupy voice</b> was not affected by a flirtation with miniature cigars that she indulged in her early days on radio but gave up years ago, her sister said.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Steele and her sister operated Just Cats, a feline boutique on East 60th Street in Manhattan, but Ms. Steele was fond of dogs as well.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">She is a member of the Rock-and-Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland and in 1976 became the first woman to receive Billboard Magazine's "FM Personality of the Year" award.</span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Ms. Steele was born <b><span style="color: orange;">Ceil Loman</span></b> on <b><span style="color: orange;">26 January 1937</span></b>, in Brooklyn, New York. In one interview, she had wished for a career in show business at three years of age. At 14, she landed a job running errands for a NYC television station, and opted not to study at university as she was "too impatient".<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the 1950s, Steele had worked on her career to become a production assistant and associate producer for various New York City television and radio stations. Among them was Ted Steele's television show, The <b>Ted Steele Show</b>, on WOR-TV, where she hosted interviews and performed fitness routines that encouraged viewers to take part in. Ted was still married to his second wife Doris at the time.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She married orchestra leader and radio and television host Ted Steele who was 20 years her senior. The marriage ended in divorce. The couple had a daughter, Heather.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">1966–1979: WNEW</span></b></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On <b><span style="color: orange;">4 July 1966</span></b>, Steele landed her <b>first radio job</b> when she became a part of the new line-up of disc jockeys for the <b>newly launched rock station</b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">WNEW</span></b>. The station wished to only hire female air staff at first as part of its <b>middle-of-the-road format</b> it marketed "sexpot radio", with Steele chosen as one of the final four selected out of the 800 women that applied. Steele worked the <b>2:00 - 7:00 p.m. </b>slot, Sunday through Friday.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When WNEW abandoned the format after the <b>18-month-trial</b> to the increasingly popular <b>progressive rock</b> format, Steele was the only host that was asked to stay at the station.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">"I've never called in sick; I've worked hard and built my own following," she once said, to explain her popularity.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On <b><span style="color: orange;">1st January1968</span></b>, <b>WNEW</b> placed Steele in the <b>overnight</b> "<b><span style="color: orange;">graveyard shift</span></b>" which granted her more creative freedom, leading her to develop her <b>on-air personality</b> and rapport with her listeners. "I thought there must be a lot of people ... that need something to relate to in the middle of the night, and if I could <b>create </b>some kind of <b>camaraderie</b>, a relationship between myself and the rest of the <b>night people</b>, then it would be more than just music". She thought of a new air name, based on the gender ("<b>bird</b>" being <b>slang</b> for a girl while '<b>teddy</b>' was slang for a boy, following the 1964 British invasion) and her <b>night owl hours</b> of work, and chose <span style="color: orange;"><b>The Nightbird</b></span>.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Steele would begin her night show by <b>reciting poetry</b> over music, before introducing her show in her distinctive <b><span style="color: orange;">soft and sultry voice</span></b>, aided by her preference of <b>smoking small cigars</b>. She often hosted with her dog, a French poodle named Genya. Her regular introduction was: "Hello night bird. How was your day? Did you visit the gods in the valleys far away? What did you bring me, in your visit from the sea?"<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The flutter of wings, the shadow across the moon, the sounds of the night, as the Nightbird spreads her wings and soars, above the earth, into another level of comprehension, where we exist only to feel. Come, fly with me, <b>Alison Steele, the Nightbird</b>, at WNEW-FM, until dawn.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She then transitioned to recordings of some of the more exceptional and <b>experimental music</b> being recorded at the time, as well as featuring the best of the familiar favorites of her audience. As well as music, she recited texts and poetry over music.<br /><br />Almost every morning, to fill in the minute before the end of her show and the start of the next, Alison Steele would play <b>the Beatles</b>’ “<b><span style="color: orange;">Flying</span></b>”: a <b>two-minute instrumental</b> from the <b><span style="color: orange;">Magical Mystery Tour </span></b>soundtrack, a deadpan <b>Mellotronism</b>, a <b>piece of marshmallow</b>. Steele would deliver the morning’s <b>final benedictions</b> and vocal nuzzlings over the music, kiss you goodbye before leaving you to your day. And the first time I heard her play her show out with it, a faint but decisive thonk!! sounded in my skull. The sound came from a small paragraph I’d never forgotten, hidden in the center of a book I’ve mentioned before on this blog - 'The Beatles Forever' by <b>Nicholas Schaffner</b>.<br /><br />By <b><span style="color: orange;">1971</span></b>, Steele had acquired approximately 78,000 nightly listeners, the majority being men between 18 and 34.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She was a supporter and promoter of the English rock bands <b><span style="color: orange;">Yes</span></b>, <b>Genesis</b>, and the <b><span style="color: orange;">Moody Blues</span></b>. By <b><span style="color: orange;">1974</span></b>, she had more than <b>100,000 listeners</b> at any given average quarter hour of her show, and hosted a syndicated rock radio show to <b>600 stations nationwide</b>, a radio show for women, and a cable television talk show.<br /><br />According to <b><span style="color: orange;">Jimi Hendrix</span></b>'s manager Michael Jeffery, the song "<b>Night Bird Flying</b>", recorded by Hendrix and released posthumously on the album The Cry of Love (1971), was inspired by Steele's show. Steele became known as "The Grande Dame of New York Night".<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">At one point, she served as the station's music director. In 1976, Steele became the first woman to receive a Billboard Award for FM Personality of the Year, and the magazine also named an award in her honour, <b>The Alison Steele Award for Lifetime Achievement</b>, which was first awarded to <b><span style="color: orange;">Casey Kasem</span></b> in 1997.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">1979–1984: Television and writing work</span></b></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After her departure from WNEW, Steele focused her career around television and writing. From <b><span style="color: orange;">1982</span></b>-<b><span style="color: orange;">1984</span></b>, she was the announcer for the daytime soap opera 'Search for Tomorrow', and was the producer, writer, and correspondent for Limelight on CNN.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>1984–1995</b>: <b>Return</b> to <b>WNEW </b>and <b>WXRK</b></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In <b><span style="color: orange;">1984</span></b>, Steele returned to radio on <b>WNEW–AM</b> which lasted until <b><span style="color: orange;">1986</span></b>. For a number of years, Steele was also the disc jockey for the pop/rock in-flight audio entertainment channel on board Trans World Airlines.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Steele's <b>final radio job</b> was working overnights at <b><span style="color: orange;">WXRK</span></b> from <b><span style="color: orange;">1989</span></b>-<b><span style="color: orange;">1995</span></b>. She also did some work for VH1, as well as running the cat boutique Just Cats with her sister Joyce in Manhattan.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Steele did much <b>voice-over</b> work for radio and television commercials, and she provided the narration for one of Howard Stern's popular radio bits, "Larry Fine at Woodstock", featuring impressionist Billy West.<br /><br />Steele also did charity work and was a member of the board of the New York City chapter of the Epilepsy Foundation, worked for the Muscular Dystrophy Foundation, and was on the credit committee of the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In <b><span style="color: orange;">June 1995</span></b>, Steele was forced to <b>leave</b> WXRK due to illness from stomach cancer. She died on 27 September 1995, at Lenox Hill Hospital in Manhattan, aged 58.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In addition to her sister <span style="color: orange;"><b>Joyce</b></span>, of Manhattan, she is survived by a daughter, <b><span style="color: orange;">Heather Steele</span></b>, of South Dakota; another sister, <b><span style="color: orange;">Emalie Daniel</span></b>, of Houston, and a granddaughter.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xTf6WCUxW1t_TH0J8R5OOi3lhAQIbwKZsPw7wZ1O1C5Pa0QfL-cz-_I6PJogbqV6s3cOLAtHZ-QJ-aZyaX37KqWAJIJ1YAfOCSeVKBqayipHbWi3hgDTyzR6xKF3wYMxDWJBYerTyiW3/s1600/Alison.aa.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="770" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xTf6WCUxW1t_TH0J8R5OOi3lhAQIbwKZsPw7wZ1O1C5Pa0QfL-cz-_I6PJogbqV6s3cOLAtHZ-QJ-aZyaX37KqWAJIJ1YAfOCSeVKBqayipHbWi3hgDTyzR6xKF3wYMxDWJBYerTyiW3/s200/Alison.aa.PNG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MKTxhUOmwOLtebPvHFMstYPbiVTFKVoF-HUzWLq5R3_O8xOd3zt8eaN-14_vng4QrE4HQ1c08YoYH75hs6GGFE9HonF5D_jqH0LNQ9_YWMzeraWYRgYTGLwinaNf9o3iAllKY1KCx_yU/s1600/Alison.bb.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="526" data-original-width="756" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MKTxhUOmwOLtebPvHFMstYPbiVTFKVoF-HUzWLq5R3_O8xOd3zt8eaN-14_vng4QrE4HQ1c08YoYH75hs6GGFE9HonF5D_jqH0LNQ9_YWMzeraWYRgYTGLwinaNf9o3iAllKY1KCx_yU/s200/Alison.bb.PNG" width="200" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Steele at NYC Public Access TV show '<b>Beyond Vaudeville</b>' on 15 September 1992.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVJU9wvah10q22gIuYsDN2LdQjGpDOYq6tXe0Imeb2HG0GGFPa_3ZR-Wej3ojyKJnModRTH6Y13BhX_BYCHauCwbHfnBkU_pqNT6CCXhoSB0cIMSsV91hXQfTX4_G4FLS8R2Dmr_O_eNw/s1600/Alison.ccc.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="535" data-original-width="765" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVJU9wvah10q22gIuYsDN2LdQjGpDOYq6tXe0Imeb2HG0GGFPa_3ZR-Wej3ojyKJnModRTH6Y13BhX_BYCHauCwbHfnBkU_pqNT6CCXhoSB0cIMSsV91hXQfTX4_G4FLS8R2Dmr_O_eNw/s200/Alison.ccc.PNG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrXK0brsKyRTPPBDSSyaRkzVK2tM7PbH1Ufl7vq5chCmkJenwXd5m08OrTvsQz-2IzaURfxwZya-48rkMaYyj-BzQkiSZ94ze_Rv39u_t2_ck33Z5srAQnAkbmqgpIVz6c0_ygY8AZLVL/s1600/Alison.ddd.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="532" data-original-width="766" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrXK0brsKyRTPPBDSSyaRkzVK2tM7PbH1Ufl7vq5chCmkJenwXd5m08OrTvsQz-2IzaURfxwZya-48rkMaYyj-BzQkiSZ94ze_Rv39u_t2_ck33Z5srAQnAkbmqgpIVz6c0_ygY8AZLVL/s200/Alison.ddd.PNG" width="200" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Alison less than 2 years before her death. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xG6ycqPjmXHfnjcajaMWVjsKOlbaJPSYML6xUeFJAghwnI6OvB69tijyY5fMxAQWhelcr86nqxjMWU3uCjotoPxZsp52tmilzAXVLTTfbTkKBFrSW8i4BQ0BHof8uRozsiFpBV0MS9q5/s1600/Alison.eee.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="762" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xG6ycqPjmXHfnjcajaMWVjsKOlbaJPSYML6xUeFJAghwnI6OvB69tijyY5fMxAQWhelcr86nqxjMWU3uCjotoPxZsp52tmilzAXVLTTfbTkKBFrSW8i4BQ0BHof8uRozsiFpBV0MS9q5/s200/Alison.eee.PNG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDE68Pb5Jhq9opmhku8WA4muwrKzNOOQAnHyPMd24yVe1V84w5CHZx7yfQaswlXE8WAV2BFyRpkCGtSppF81cnrjS1gvqiiZt0jPiyqpdO-PoWbAHhkyFQpk5hFW6RZ20V2SC1SwWkLJZ/s1600/Alison.ggg.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="575" data-original-width="776" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDE68Pb5Jhq9opmhku8WA4muwrKzNOOQAnHyPMd24yVe1V84w5CHZx7yfQaswlXE8WAV2BFyRpkCGtSppF81cnrjS1gvqiiZt0jPiyqpdO-PoWbAHhkyFQpk5hFW6RZ20V2SC1SwWkLJZ/s200/Alison.ggg.PNG" width="200" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Steele & 'Beyond Vaudeville' host <b>Frank Hope</b> on <b>15 September 1992</b>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2nTuJxmVGAvQRrathfxjkOGU0C5yoswMAYfwZACIxJUAtkpri24wMHq12qT3i74nn0MTIJu3WYs9YFAObWbUnRoYzQuGjAdJ2g7bZ2Q-NvIkNGKmKls5Q-ENvesJ-Dzi7rEXsK-hYnpN/s1600/Alison.hhh.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="566" data-original-width="700" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2nTuJxmVGAvQRrathfxjkOGU0C5yoswMAYfwZACIxJUAtkpri24wMHq12qT3i74nn0MTIJu3WYs9YFAObWbUnRoYzQuGjAdJ2g7bZ2Q-NvIkNGKmKls5Q-ENvesJ-Dzi7rEXsK-hYnpN/s200/Alison.hhh.PNG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PFR0gM0O-9Y7jD3kTbnzKH1-f7IO9JgxFOviMesMuC06L4pgn2g25hgBye-YkkSzZX2tceR1-WJYHjW5AJNptpc-7xqw5Tk7xN8Ozsv5bezOt5-7ljgjmLRDvWZu-7XnLvIQwWi5MLiD/s1600/Alison.William.Browne.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="710" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PFR0gM0O-9Y7jD3kTbnzKH1-f7IO9JgxFOviMesMuC06L4pgn2g25hgBye-YkkSzZX2tceR1-WJYHjW5AJNptpc-7xqw5Tk7xN8Ozsv5bezOt5-7ljgjmLRDvWZu-7XnLvIQwWi5MLiD/s200/Alison.William.Browne.PNG" width="200" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Alison Steele & <b>William Brown</b> at '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Beyond Vaudeville</span></b>' that was aired by NYC Public Access TV up to the time MTV scooped it up as '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Oddville</span></b>, <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">MTV</span></b>'.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My 1977 high school newspaper interview with Alison Steele. I was editor-in-chief of Archbishop Molloy's (Queens, NY) newspaper <b><span style="color: orange;">The Stanner</span></b> when Alison granted me a meeting at the WNEW-FM studios. Very nice, kind and classy lady.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwh-O78HAIhX-9I0um8yrHjra4qV4pmQxGGfEY_vjmcQ4PTowuE2vcA34KkcigScyNa5lbgHlMJQhDVGDwPk_jmkf8jWX2T2lZdv71QNyo7Rddkcjmu3n2ve_dwCPKd5pgUWNxH0_zwX_/s1600/Mark.Bradford.Barbour.1977.h.s.newspaper.interview.w.Alison.I.was.editor.in.chief..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="1080" height="467" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwh-O78HAIhX-9I0um8yrHjra4qV4pmQxGGfEY_vjmcQ4PTowuE2vcA34KkcigScyNa5lbgHlMJQhDVGDwPk_jmkf8jWX2T2lZdv71QNyo7Rddkcjmu3n2ve_dwCPKd5pgUWNxH0_zwX_/s640/Mark.Bradford.Barbour.1977.h.s.newspaper.interview.w.Alison.I.was.editor.in.chief..jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Mark Bradford Barbour</b> posted this article at <b>Facebook</b>'s "Alison Steels: the Nightbird" page on <b>17 August 2020</b>: My <b><span style="color: orange;">1977</span></b> high school <b><span style="color: orange;">newspaper interview</span></b> with <b>Alison Steele</b>. I was <b>editor-in-chief</b> of <b>Archbishop Molloy's</b> (Queens, NY) newspaper '<b><span style="color: orange;">The Stanner</span></b>' when Alison granted me a meeting at the WNEW-FM studios. Very nice, kind and classy lady.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: What do you think about the <b><span style="color: orange;">punk rock scene</span></b> in England?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: Well, I realize that there has to have their own property as far as music is concerned. And musically, there are some good punk rock groups. The only ones I'm not too thrilled about are the ones that brag about the fact that they only know two chords. I think it's kind of an insult to the music industry and to the people who studied and really tried. If the record companies can reject the punk rock that's bad musically, then that's great because it's exciting. It's a new form which we need. Music has been very dull in the last couple of years. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: What are <b>your own musical preferences</b>? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: It depends on my mood. I like all music. I love rock, and I like folk music and middle-of-the-road music. I also like classical music. If there isn't a good old movie on when I go home, I might listen to some classical music.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: What about classical rock?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: I suppose I have a soft spot for classical rock, for ELP (<b>Emerson, Lake & Palmer</b>), for <b>Yes</b>, the <b>Strawbs</b>, ELO (<b>Electric Light Orchestra</b>) and <b>Pink Floyd</b>. It's very hard to say what my own preference would be. As I say, it depends on my mood. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: What sort of <b>things you enjoy</b> besides music?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Alison: I like sports, I enjoy hockey, football and all participation sports. I like to swim. I like all forms of exercises. I'm a movie freak. I also like to cook. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What <b>kinds of food</b> do you like to cook?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: Everything, especially spicy food. I'm a really good cook. I like to cook for people, and I like to entertain. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: Do you always enjoy working, or are ever days when you don't feel like coming in?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: Yeah, I get a lot of days when I don't feel like coming in, but the minute I get in, I'm fine. It's like going into cold water. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: Where do you get the poems that you use?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: From a variety of places, anything from greeting cards to the Bible. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: Do you ever write your own?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: Oh yeah, sure. And then a lot of times listeners send them in. I have just always been a poetry buff. Then I started collecting books. I've got hundreds of books and I look through them. Sometimes I'll get a card and there'll be a pretty rhyme on it. It can just be from anything. I don't draw the line any place. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: Can you tell us about some of the things WNEW will be doing in the future?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: Well, you know about the Emerson, Lake & Palmer concert. The Christmas concert is coming up too. They're deciding now who's going to be playing. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark: Did you always want to be a deejay?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Alison</b>: No, I never thought about being a deejay, as a matter of fact. I started out in television and hadn't the slightes thought about being one. So when WNEW was looking for girl deejays, it was the only thing I hadn't actually done yet. The only thing I had to do was to cue the record, and I figured it couldn't be very hard. It wasn't.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1qsx0mbNDzR9K9XlPL4d5ti04Z-bTKWbF2OSbteImTQ97ws8mHtSFog_WSRs1hcgxjJigshJvHW-yvmLjLo6nwHDKkhhpJHVypfb5rJ28DFBQkIXDDAu9_dDKANsos6cagtMfkqzh6qr/s1080/Mark.Bradford.Barbour.5.years.after..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="1080" height="552" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1qsx0mbNDzR9K9XlPL4d5ti04Z-bTKWbF2OSbteImTQ97ws8mHtSFog_WSRs1hcgxjJigshJvHW-yvmLjLo6nwHDKkhhpJHVypfb5rJ28DFBQkIXDDAu9_dDKANsos6cagtMfkqzh6qr/w640-h552/Mark.Bradford.Barbour.5.years.after..jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">1971.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8r8d4nXm6GJwnL6QX6sObT4Yl2EFwDjd_yWfJBPX0uYWLwzq-fldE5GAU60Mif4jaFkbTC-HxWFRZb4riExCXR88-wRrq25qYon_yi-L051HFYQUFrfdAHJv6Q62HmA1ailtnH4XItlfV/s851/Alyson.Steele.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="851" data-original-width="622" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8r8d4nXm6GJwnL6QX6sObT4Yl2EFwDjd_yWfJBPX0uYWLwzq-fldE5GAU60Mif4jaFkbTC-HxWFRZb4riExCXR88-wRrq25qYon_yi-L051HFYQUFrfdAHJv6Q62HmA1ailtnH4XItlfV/w468-h640/Alyson.Steele.PNG" width="468" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">hear Ms Steele's voice at:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6LUqqueEy-4&feature=share&fbclid=IwAR1gYIhACDszXKNq69Vd_KLDvgx-Yig6_F6Duo2VtCPNqDxxDcYMJ8RcJ_o</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sYqDYMY_T4lVUZTa3hJlD0S3WyGN2PCQJoTD6p6ukON3lDqwnlfleuGN6AxV2BQAG9lw4J07GinZn43n-cnLLvJ_WByx7NlLe22hiHGHZWdHZW6Y2uwLPaNFjYeX-0iD2VslWvXCXJTydhi4siLygOmyFV6gygZH-RRA1w8jybWIq3UdEeToFIaecXZN/s1303/Alyson.Steels.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1303" data-original-width="1119" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sYqDYMY_T4lVUZTa3hJlD0S3WyGN2PCQJoTD6p6ukON3lDqwnlfleuGN6AxV2BQAG9lw4J07GinZn43n-cnLLvJ_WByx7NlLe22hiHGHZWdHZW6Y2uwLPaNFjYeX-0iD2VslWvXCXJTydhi4siLygOmyFV6gygZH-RRA1w8jybWIq3UdEeToFIaecXZN/w550-h640/Alyson.Steels.jpg" width="550" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_vaO4CDBLbBEZoCz_Nv_AspaZ0z-g0xnI33dEjl2bSq5hS50VPUtaHshGESzG_Dre5RFGV45bvmSLn9I6F0lF0VsMB77SZKcFsQSxPYXvhvWKbPHiMFHoO2jSxmX2vDJbg1D5cehJaSlMiB6rXYYTmsXboeq1FR9RNWItBsPtxFr6fo5CvFgYk0m9WrM/s1260/Alyson.Steel..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="1118" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_vaO4CDBLbBEZoCz_Nv_AspaZ0z-g0xnI33dEjl2bSq5hS50VPUtaHshGESzG_Dre5RFGV45bvmSLn9I6F0lF0VsMB77SZKcFsQSxPYXvhvWKbPHiMFHoO2jSxmX2vDJbg1D5cehJaSlMiB6rXYYTmsXboeq1FR9RNWItBsPtxFr6fo5CvFgYk0m9WrM/w568-h640/Alyson.Steel..jpg" width="568" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Alyson Steel's interview. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1-zc9yHRH4YqVWosJyRdC_KX93ME6z6tPd7VNwJuMCjPwzYjdYiKoKsTS5C75pA1XG7gcFkfJlmWm2wuXkxWX13-IhKqtkqKxdfEjYiOi4EVSZ9HZMcZ3AZZ3P4PDsoD-rLiHZGRXek7abtMtoYUEhMOjaaiH3ch9Jx-d92kNWMVRDCjK26GVkyWbtbx7/s683/alyson.1%20(2).PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1-zc9yHRH4YqVWosJyRdC_KX93ME6z6tPd7VNwJuMCjPwzYjdYiKoKsTS5C75pA1XG7gcFkfJlmWm2wuXkxWX13-IhKqtkqKxdfEjYiOi4EVSZ9HZMcZ3AZZ3P4PDsoD-rLiHZGRXek7abtMtoYUEhMOjaaiH3ch9Jx-d92kNWMVRDCjK26GVkyWbtbx7/s16000/alyson.1%20(2).PNG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPeG17J1NmQNRSYY-472cnYd03JGNl2BW8Yp-oRMcb_XKDeCZmb7FKw3yt8k4HV5IHiSsgpwmMNr-RZC1tzV2jRNJL5v-jOfqSp1RlxzPXKAAI-brfTF0MfXwhf6pI5YWM2Z7aOld87LVMxRLGPsrytU-qw7DYvRVJlyrvjNUTGs0burXDjUF0FR4jRXX7/s619/Alyson.2%20(2).PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPeG17J1NmQNRSYY-472cnYd03JGNl2BW8Yp-oRMcb_XKDeCZmb7FKw3yt8k4HV5IHiSsgpwmMNr-RZC1tzV2jRNJL5v-jOfqSp1RlxzPXKAAI-brfTF0MfXwhf6pI5YWM2Z7aOld87LVMxRLGPsrytU-qw7DYvRVJlyrvjNUTGs0burXDjUF0FR4jRXX7/s16000/Alyson.2%20(2).PNG" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaG3r3hZFg1_RSm9a53Zj2Eco-hCbOiBVkMZeM-iR6lXjIT1_Q8XXTGHilpPSmbOnmAtGwkdsgfOFI6dzGAxRyI5vtl7vclM4QiqTuesR3igqEQvqYgmSm2Sj9DsS5ZDi2erthi4cwaeqSkET1uYIBcU_7jBx2WbpgYdLRlh1J3IzAiVv3l-zSJkbSTqTM/s658/Alyson.3%20(2).PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaG3r3hZFg1_RSm9a53Zj2Eco-hCbOiBVkMZeM-iR6lXjIT1_Q8XXTGHilpPSmbOnmAtGwkdsgfOFI6dzGAxRyI5vtl7vclM4QiqTuesR3igqEQvqYgmSm2Sj9DsS5ZDi2erthi4cwaeqSkET1uYIBcU_7jBx2WbpgYdLRlh1J3IzAiVv3l-zSJkbSTqTM/s16000/Alyson.3%20(2).PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAP3Uz9dw-vXvZqWAB0zrDLQOmgvvS4m1yLz1YT7eSxUSKv3VzfbWuHkt4r14jVNyzRhIN6b-ZJQG0gzCGzq1p7TsPXBSoLlyBJYuMyS2NtBH9kjgIhHOMnqPZePmXfGLpy8hyphenhyphenVsnvYOvzjWTaUyziXYUzdCDUdvmfqlm_lHVKGLYYzJsZwQaRNGWOb9Z/s776/Alyson.4%20(2).PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAP3Uz9dw-vXvZqWAB0zrDLQOmgvvS4m1yLz1YT7eSxUSKv3VzfbWuHkt4r14jVNyzRhIN6b-ZJQG0gzCGzq1p7TsPXBSoLlyBJYuMyS2NtBH9kjgIhHOMnqPZePmXfGLpy8hyphenhyphenVsnvYOvzjWTaUyziXYUzdCDUdvmfqlm_lHVKGLYYzJsZwQaRNGWOb9Z/s16000/Alyson.4%20(2).PNG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4EHektkp4bbpFDBjYekudmhThejtfC30ShVjWMcp_RapOkkPNcqkCR7mmTZqB65k4zTBGpwvyKWPVNF6kZFsYVDroSlFUCBiX3vyIknTEh5jjfhyriblUBqANfzJ_IaxT8ysvm4QVzrDmqX7NSab3OWHAANV10qJHpoFYh_80FwNOZussz8nGNBFgq77/s560/Alsyon.5%20(2).PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4EHektkp4bbpFDBjYekudmhThejtfC30ShVjWMcp_RapOkkPNcqkCR7mmTZqB65k4zTBGpwvyKWPVNF6kZFsYVDroSlFUCBiX3vyIknTEh5jjfhyriblUBqANfzJ_IaxT8ysvm4QVzrDmqX7NSab3OWHAANV10qJHpoFYh_80FwNOZussz8nGNBFgq77/s16000/Alsyon.5%20(2).PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLXBfKO4zdTqDyLR3awufRKNcwkjkzIhHn0AB4jcIHBqZmAYwumKa8OquNmnTG7y3q4P0HAsT-LqAkAtAEss4qsyR8aI4LETMO5v5EuGl421JrTpPef-is0aVDnBle_ZzeAMYaXfIPcZh43Ko4AbIG0CFNHPbKCTv3Qa8CdTU9AmJSDc1PYaM_kuYwXBw/s771/Alyson.7%20(2).PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLXBfKO4zdTqDyLR3awufRKNcwkjkzIhHn0AB4jcIHBqZmAYwumKa8OquNmnTG7y3q4P0HAsT-LqAkAtAEss4qsyR8aI4LETMO5v5EuGl421JrTpPef-is0aVDnBle_ZzeAMYaXfIPcZh43Ko4AbIG0CFNHPbKCTv3Qa8CdTU9AmJSDc1PYaM_kuYwXBw/s16000/Alyson.7%20(2).PNG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsaUisxZyyvxqrAPSDsmNASUtjCvHtfuPqS_l2R2apncbgnOIUhbr4V2y8cRvD0uCA5Az_qQ3z5AxmlhbOOlVfJtNhM8adc5z6x6GfyOKSpj1v3P3GkNst0UmCnfYqN8OffAfg2PEhjCMQVP40gJpFIgxovqXI6xNxVkvO1oF9-D_yYEK6xr14LpoeXuj1/s751/Alyson.6%20(2).PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42hhna2RPmhEqqRvrWJTTUa_GjVQ0k7HdD03Lj-2lddFEF6zcTGe9qWwe4b6Y9if0Y9up1QCi23cTvuONHopCvljjE6W81QScKXcFXcDS-lZAbz4QvL-vlwapcJqUcBhaKM_r48_ohvRHMA6aDMXpcLR_QowkLvIE9zJFuMMNg_RqU8IKvLeO_L3lXx-n/s16000/Alyson.11%20(2).PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsVUvhvGmRT2dBIqmuJtsCut67daFC0tnAyDw1F8V-D10GO979AgCis6wscHfVZyrBtC8KCjzvmYPg9PJY21sF-TETg4dDkK54eIyEQ_Opr_LZrIFWatkon8FAgtHITFK62uNOZh2q7hpINJ-ptBN6ldtQviUn6QGxorgT9NVMIcRVg0tNmH2uAwMp_G-/s519/Alyson.12%20(2).PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="519" data-original-width="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsVUvhvGmRT2dBIqmuJtsCut67daFC0tnAyDw1F8V-D10GO979AgCis6wscHfVZyrBtC8KCjzvmYPg9PJY21sF-TETg4dDkK54eIyEQ_Opr_LZrIFWatkon8FAgtHITFK62uNOZh2q7hpINJ-ptBN6ldtQviUn6QGxorgT9NVMIcRVg0tNmH2uAwMp_G-/s16000/Alyson.12%20(2).PNG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkAnz7PI0wmBo9avW3vdfCQTgwCugPO7ScWq6aYhtSuevtaFJ_CrWhMThdjdTqvszBjr1w_-BYUCt2GOiyo80mAwCBVdP9TWv2aEqGGIVQsoI0O_94NeyzYi_ruBvvRfqqDFxdybDBnOVr9lljw_DW-gxVxdd07PuaM669ZEkrrNDUgwiz6W7UXQeWk9I/s682/Alyson.13%20(2).PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkAnz7PI0wmBo9avW3vdfCQTgwCugPO7ScWq6aYhtSuevtaFJ_CrWhMThdjdTqvszBjr1w_-BYUCt2GOiyo80mAwCBVdP9TWv2aEqGGIVQsoI0O_94NeyzYi_ruBvvRfqqDFxdybDBnOVr9lljw_DW-gxVxdd07PuaM669ZEkrrNDUgwiz6W7UXQeWk9I/s16000/Alyson.13%20(2).PNG" /></a></div></div><br />Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-55543309747031957162020-10-09T14:31:00.003-07:002020-10-09T14:31:42.611-07:00Pete Fornatale, DJ at WNEW-FM <p> <span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">Peter "Pete" Fornatale, a New York City disc jockey and author of numerous books on rock'n'roll music is considered a "pioneer of FM rock" and was the first person to host a rock music show on New York City's FM band, commencing on</span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">21st November 1964</span></b><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">, on WFUV.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By broadcasting progressive rock and long album tracks, he was noted for introducing a musical alternative to Top 40 AM radio in New York in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Billboard called his station "a legend, affecting and inspiring people throughout the industry."</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugP70sxlk84lcU6f9icdt2xcgwK_FzyJ0Z2RE6xDGnh57nFqCaZb2QBls8Vd_XPLNLwX1TUwDCT-tOdCiZeeoqisufgnD9RIc5K2-3Xll801rwFEjXq-HOoIcmoYV4e5kS8zn1Xr1QYPm/s1600/Fornatale_FMGuide_196804.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugP70sxlk84lcU6f9icdt2xcgwK_FzyJ0Z2RE6xDGnh57nFqCaZb2QBls8Vd_XPLNLwX1TUwDCT-tOdCiZeeoqisufgnD9RIc5K2-3Xll801rwFEjXq-HOoIcmoYV4e5kS8zn1Xr1QYPm/s16000/Fornatale_FMGuide_196804.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">DJ <b><span style="color: orange;">Pete Fornatale</span></b> with a voice of gold...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">Peter ("Pete") Fornatale was born on <b><span style="color: orange;">23rd August 1945</span></b>, in the Bronx, New York. Pete died</span><span face="arial, helvetica, sans-serif"> on </span><b>26 April 2012</b><span face="arial, helvetica, sans-serif">, in New York City. He had suffered a brain hemorrhage on 15 April 2012, and had been in ICU.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">He was the first DJ to host a rock music show on New York City's FM band, starting on 21st November 1964 on WFUV. By broadcasting progressive rock and long album tracks, he was noted for introducing a musical alternative to Top 40 AM radio in New York in the late 1960s and early 1970s. </span><br /><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He gave early exposure to country-rock bands like Buffalo Springfield and Poco, and did one of the first American interviews with Elton John.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Starting with WOR-FM in 1966, FM was demonstrating a large rift from AM broadcasting. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">Fornatale was a key figure in this trend with his weekly program, "<b><span style="color: orange;">Campus Caravan</span></b>," which was heard on Fordham University's <b><span style="color: orange;">WFUV</span></b> from <b><span style="color: orange;">1964</span></b> to <b><span style="color: orange;">1970</span></b>. </span><br /><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"><br /></span><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">He began professionally in 1969 at WNEW-FM and also worked at WXRK.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif">He was a native of the Belmont section of the Bronx and attended Fordham Preparatory School and Fordham University, where he received a B.A. in Communication Arts in 1967.</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_pfKMHKEL8Z5ndk-yuriLX1Aut0B6S7oigUlHY_C4NCGVsi785CbVLwKYfISCe7Cyg3ZWkOE9-dd1U7N-apMzAs6GV-TN6nPmGhibWsrIqSw1NartJufXWq08iLgryTJYay4vml66ceZ/s1600/Pete,+JT,+JOP.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_pfKMHKEL8Z5ndk-yuriLX1Aut0B6S7oigUlHY_C4NCGVsi785CbVLwKYfISCe7Cyg3ZWkOE9-dd1U7N-apMzAs6GV-TN6nPmGhibWsrIqSw1NartJufXWq08iLgryTJYay4vml66ceZ/s16000/Pete,+JT,+JOP.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Pete Fornatale, James Taylor & JOP.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: orange;">Pete Fornatale</span></b>, a <b>Pioneer of FM Rock</b>, dies at 66</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>by Douglas Martin<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;">27 April 2012<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Pete Fornatale, a disc jockey who helped<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>usher in</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>a musical alternative to Top 40 AM radio in New York in the late 1960s and early 1970s, presenting<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>progressive rock</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>long album</b> <b>tracks</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>that AM stations wouldn’t touch and helping to give<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>WNEW</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>a major presence on the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>still-young FM dial, died on Thursday, 27 April 2012 in Manhattan. He was 66. The cause was complications of a stroke, his son Mark said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>FM radio</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB">had been around for a while but did not<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>come of age<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>until the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>1960s</b></span><span lang="EN-GB">, when, amid the whirlwind of a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>growing counterculture, the federal government mandated that FM stations carry different programming from that of their sister AM bands. Enterprising<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>D.J.’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>grasped the chance to play longer, fresher, rarer music and give voice to the roiling political and social issues of the day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB">Mr. Fornatale was at the forefront of the FM revolution, along with<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>WNEW-FM</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB">colleagues like Scott Muni, Rosko,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Vin Scelsa, <b>Dennis Elsas</b>,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><b>Jonathan Schwartz</b><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Alison Steele</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB">(who called herself “the Nightbird”). They played <b><span style="color: orange;">long versions of songs</span></b>, and sometimes entire albums, and talked to their audiences in a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>conversational tone<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>very different from the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>hard-sell approach<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of their AM counterparts.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB">WNEW-FM may have been the most influential experimenter. When the station dropped rock music for talk radio in 1999, Billboard called it “a legend, affecting and inspiring people throughout the industry.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB">Mr. Fornatale (pronounced forn-a-TELL) had actually beaten WNEW to the punch. As a sophomore at<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Fordham University in 1964, he<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>persuaded the school’s Jesuit leaders<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to let him do a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>free-form rock show<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>on what was officially an educational station. He continued that show for a few years after he graduated, and for a while could be heard on both WFUV and WNEW.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>WOR-FM</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB">became the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>first commercial station<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>in New York to adopt the format, in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>1966</b></span><span lang="EN-GB">, but<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>abandoned it<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>after about a year.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>WNEW</b></span><span lang="EN-GB">, with the slogan “Where Rock Lives,” adopted it in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>1967</b></span><span lang="EN-GB">.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB">Mr. Fornatale came on board in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: orange; font-size: 11pt;"><b>1969</b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB">and quickly moved to the center of New York’s music scene. He gave early exposure to country-rock bands like<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Buffalo Springfield<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and Poco. He did one of the first American interviews with<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Elton John, and got a rousing ovation when he brought a rented surfboard to Carnegie Hall for a Beach Boys show. He introduced<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Curtis Mayfield<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Bob Dylan<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>at a Muhammad Ali fight.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB">In 1982 he started “Mixed Bag,” a program that emphasized singer-songwriters, on Sunday mornings. His regular guests included Suzanne Vega, who introduced herself to him by sending a fan letter.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-GB">One of Mr. Fornatale’s signatures was playing songs that followed a theme. It might be colours, with a playlist including the Beatles’ “<b>Yellow Submarine</b>” and Joni Mitchell’s “<b>Blue</b>.” Or it might be great inventions, as when he celebrated the 214th anniversary of the United States Patent Office. Or the theme might simply be radio.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"><span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="color: orange;">Peter Fornatale</span></b> was born in the Bronx on <b><span style="color: orange;">23 August 1945</span></b>, and graduated from Fordham Preparatory School, on the campus of Fordham University. His introduction to rock ’n’ roll came in 1956 when his father summoned him to the television to see “this crazy guy” — Elvis Presley. The first record he bought was Presley’s “Hound Dog.”</span><o:p></o:p></span><br /><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Fornatale graduated from Fordham with a degree in communications in 1967 and taught English at a Roman Catholic high school before joining WNEW. His voice drew praise for its mellow, almost professorial tone, although some listeners may have chosen to describe it as nasal.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">By the early 1980s, stations specializing in what had been known as free-form radio were bringing in business consultants who urged less variety in records and more control over the disc jockeys. Mr. Fornatale later complained that he and his colleagues had been demoted from chefs into waiters, “and fast-food waiters at that,” as he told The Record of Bergen County, N.J., in 1999.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">He left WNEW in <b><span style="color: orange;">1989</span></b> to follow the station’s program director to WXRK-FM (K-Rock), which followed a more conventional approach to pop music. Mr. Fornatale’s show came on after Howard Stern’s. Mr. Stern, whose shock-jock format was becoming radio’s new wave, called Mr. Fornatale the “anti-Stern.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">In 1997 Mr. Fornatale returned to WNEW-FM, which had decided to go back to album-oriented rock after a succession of owners and formats. But within a year the station had changed formats again, to talk. In 2001, Mr. Fornatale returned to where he had started: WFUV. “I love the idea I’ve come full circle,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Fornatale wrote several books, including one on the making of Simon and Garfunkel’s 1968 album “Bookends,” and one on the Woodstock music festival. He was also the main writer for a series of 600 trading cards on the life of Elvis Presley.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">He had lived for six years in Rockaway, Queens, and the previous four decades in Port Jefferson, N.Y.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Fornatale’s marriage to Susan Kay Flynn ended in divorce several years ago. He is survived by his sons, Peter, Mark and Steven, and his brother, Robert.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">His WFUV show, which like his earlier WNEW singer-songwriter show was called “Mixed Bag,” ran from 4 to 8 p.m. on Saturdays.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: arial;">“If you give me the right idea for a program,” Mr. Fornatale said in 2004, “I can give back to you a three-hour journey where, if you tune in at any time, you’re likely to hear something that will entertain you. But if you take the ride with me, when we get to the end, you’ll say, ‘Wow, what a long, strange trip it’s been.’ ”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB">A version of this article appeared in print on April 27, 2012, on page A19 of the New York edition with the headline: Pete Fornatale, a Pioneer Of FM Rock, Dies at 66.</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;"><b style="font-size: medium;">Vin Scelsa</b><span face=""arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif" style="font-size: small;"> or Vincent Anthony Scelsa was born <b>12 December 1947</b>, in Bayonne, New Jersey and was at "the forefront of the FM revolution".</span></span></span></div></div></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-89889730280641256782020-10-09T14:23:00.003-07:002020-10-09T14:24:11.943-07:00Casey Kasem in 'American Top 40'<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0NWHhNgLsbGJXumAE7C9bUN2-F6wbMxVl29G4kscC-ltHJ5-atlFbFaq8lixz4t_TFdJC0FeKeH6BQdAaVDZaFThBoRVIheus-A0ahKB70gC6mNkeDkl4DNnmiwTrOrqpb0a1nzsH1ws/s1600/kasem.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0NWHhNgLsbGJXumAE7C9bUN2-F6wbMxVl29G4kscC-ltHJ5-atlFbFaq8lixz4t_TFdJC0FeKeH6BQdAaVDZaFThBoRVIheus-A0ahKB70gC6mNkeDkl4DNnmiwTrOrqpb0a1nzsH1ws/s1600/kasem.jpg" width="478" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Casey Kasem in Hollywood.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />I went to live in the USA in 1971. I made Newark, N.J. my American town and I used to listen to New York City's radio stations. WABC was Brazilians' favourite radio stations but I listened to all of them and preferred FM stations because the sound was clearer. I don't know exactly when but I found out about Casey Kasem's program 'American Top Forties' on a Sunday morning in the 1972 Fall when I was searching the dials for my favourite songs. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: orange;">WPIX</span></b> <b>FM 102</b> was the radio station in which I listened to 'American Top 40'. I had been a fan of Hit Parades on the radio since I was a kid of 11, when my family moved from a small town to São Paulo. I was extremely happy to find a Hit Parade show on WPIX on the Sunday morning exactly as I was used to do it in the early 1960s in Brazil. </span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I used to tape parts of the show to be able to listen to Casey later. My English was not very good and I had to listen to the same thing sometimes up to 10 times to understand what had been said. I could easily say that Casey Kasem was one of my best teachers of English-as-a-foreign language. I still have a cassette tape where Casey Kasem announces the Number One single of the week: '<b><span style="color: orange;">Baby don't get hooked on me</span></b>' by <b>Mac Davies</b>. <b>Michael Jackson</b>'s '<b><span style="color: orange;">Ben</span></b>' was the runner-up. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I came back to Brazil, I kept listening to the tapes I had recorded in 1972-1973 so I could keep English in my consciousness. I kept on increasing my understanding of the language through listening to the same tapes over and over. In Brazil there is a law enacted during WWII that bans foreign-language radio programs, so 'American Top 40' was never beamed in our shores.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Next time I listened to Casey Kasem's 'American Top 40' was in <b><span style="color: orange;">mid-1975</span></b> when I returned to the USA. <b>Captain & Tenille</b>'s '<b><span style="color: orange;">Love will keep us together</span></b>' was <b>#1</b>. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I went to live in Sydney, Australia, in <b><span style="color: orange;">1981</span></b>, I was surprised to find 'American Top Forties' on <b><span style="color: orange;">2UE</span></b> on the Sunday morning too. I was in heaven again, even though I thought the 1980s were not so glamorous as the 1970s. But still, it was so good to be able to listen to Casey and the information he provided about new and old acts in the countdown. <b>Olivia Newton-John </b>was<b> #1</b> with '<b><span style="color: orange;">Physical</span></b>', that went to be the song with most weeks a #1 for the longest time.<br /><br />I don't remember when I stopped listening to 'American Top 40'. Probably by the late 1980s when I sort of lost my interest for pop music in general.<br /><br />I'm really sad to know that Casey Kasem passed away on <b><span style="color: orange;">15 June 2014</span></b>. I've read a few articles about his death, but I'm more interested in his life than his death. Everyone will die one day, anyway. So here's some facts about the life of such a wonderful guy:<br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5_AZ7W5yOBuK7bChpSo_2g-JTvaYrcFUHDajGPHDZ3_K72P7VonXEgcsOGc90JQ2jBaysOZDzBXTfx3bOQJ4IfoeBQ2Wc7wEqExnhjxHP4A5AwiBNA8JAVTt2cjogeTp4Lg0zaEqqv2r/s1600/00kasem-obit-slide-5JHD-jumbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5_AZ7W5yOBuK7bChpSo_2g-JTvaYrcFUHDajGPHDZ3_K72P7VonXEgcsOGc90JQ2jBaysOZDzBXTfx3bOQJ4IfoeBQ2Wc7wEqExnhjxHP4A5AwiBNA8JAVTt2cjogeTp4Lg0zaEqqv2r/s1600/00kasem-obit-slide-5JHD-jumbo.jpg" width="317" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Casey Kasem's '<b><span style="color: orange;">American Top 40</span></b>', which first aired in the <b><span style="color: orange;">summer of 1970</span></b>, was a weekly 4-hour feast of homey sentiment and American optimism that ran headlong into the prevailing spirit of rebellion in the music culture of the day.<br /><br />At the height of his career, Casey Kasem was among the best-known D.J.'s in the country. His weekly<b> 4-hour show</b> defined <b>middle-of-the-road radio taste</b> in America at the time. The show gave new life to the <b><span style="color: orange;">Top 40 format</span></b> at a time when the popularity of the <b>45 rpm record</b> was waning and FM disc-jockeys were experimenting with more personal formats, creating <b>playlists</b> from their favourite long-playing album cuts.<br /><br />Mr. Kasem, instead, featured only the singles that <b><span style="color: orange;">Billboard magazine</span></b> had ranked as the country's most popular in the past week, based on its analysis of <b>airplay</b> - a playlist, in effect, based on the <b>national pop consensus</b>.<br /><br />Building a radio show on the notion that such a consensus existed was considered a risky proposition in the <b>culturally splintered time</b>. As <b>Time</b> magazine put it, '<i>He embraced <b><span style="color: orange;">corniness</span></b> as Vietnam-era cynicism peaked</i>.' But the format struck a chord.<br /><br />Only <b><span style="color: orange;">5 radio stations</span></b> carried the debut of 'American Top 40' on <b><span style="color: orange;">4 July 1970</span></b>. But within a year more than <b>100</b> did, and by the mid-1970s it had reached nearly <b><span style="color: orange;">1,000 outlets</span></b> 'coast to coast', as Mr. Kasem liked to say, making him one of the best-known DJs in the country.<br /><br />He had modeled the show, he later told interviewers, on the old <b><span style="color: orange;">NCB</span></b> radio program '<b><span style="color: orange;">Your Hit Parade</span></b>' (also known as '<b>The Lucky Strike Hit Parade</b>'). '<i>I thought we'd be around for at least 20 years</i>,' he said. '<i>Because I knew the formula worked</i>'.<br /><br />'American Top 40' became a mainstay of American radio, offering a <b>crowd-pleasing menu</b> of hits seasoned with Mr. Kasem's <b>heartfelt readings</b> of listeners' <b><span style="color: orange;">song dedications</span></b>, wholesome <b>anecdotes</b> about the lives of the <b>pop stars</b>, and an endless store of solid, if cringe-inducing, pieces of advice, like his touchstone signoff: '<b><span style="color: orange;">Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars</span></b>'.<br /><br />Not all the dedications were necessarily feel-good, however. A pregnant teenager addressed her boyfriend in prison, for example, and a mother begged her runaway daughter to come home.<br /><br />Mr. Kasem also hosted a syndicated TV version of the show in the 1980s. But his relationship with 'American Top 40' <b>ended</b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">1988</span></b> because of a contract dispute with his syndication company. The next year, 1989, he started '<b>Casey's Top 40</b>', a competing radio program on another network, bringing most of his old audience there with him.<br /><br />About 10 years later, 1999, after acquiring the rights to the name, he was again hosting a show with the title 'American Top 40' (for a time he hosted both that and the competing 'Casey's Top 40'). He ended his <b>three-decade run</b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">2004</span></b>, handing the hosting duties to Ryan Seacrest, who continues in that role. Mr. Kasem retired in 2009.<br /><br />Mr. Kasem, who had a financial interest in his shows, had a net worth estimated by several sources at <b>$80 million</b>. Last year he put his house in the Holmby Hills area of Los Angeles on the market for $42 million.<br /><br />Rock'n'roll was never Mr. Kasem's passion, he told interviewers. He knew his subject, and kept up with it in a professional way, but when home, he told Billboard, '<i>I find myself just wanting to sit in my office and make it as quiet as possible</i>'.<br /><br />'<i>If I were doing a real rock show,</i>' he told The New York Times in 1990, '<i>then it would matter to know how I felt about what I was playing'. But, </i>he added<i>, 'I'm just <b><span style="color: orange;">counting them down</span></b> as they appear on the chart, 1 through 40. What really matters is what I say between the songs'</i>.<br /><br />Between the songs Mr. Kasem managed to herald the newest of the new with a <b>broadcast style</b> that felt <b>comfortingly old</b>. He set the tone with a neighbourly but precise <b><span style="color: orange;">1940s-style diction</span></b>, honed to <b>amiable perfection</b> in a second career as a <b>voice-over artist</b>. With <b>plain-spoken warmth</b> and a <b>partiality</b> to <b>sentiments</b> and phrases ('<b><span style="color: orange;">coast-to-coast</span></b>' and '<b><span style="color: orange;">sweetheart</span></b>' were his favourites, hands down), his delivery evoked another time. <br /><br />'<i>Hello again, everybody'</i>, he said to open most of his shows. '<i>I'm Casey Kasem, and welcome to 'American Top 40'. I'm all set to count down the 40 most popular songs in the U.S.A.'</i><br /><br />When he used <b>biographical teasers</b> to introduce songs ('<i>a high school dropout and a runaway, with a mother who was married six times - coming up</i>,' referring to <b><span style="color: orange;">Cher</span></b>), Mr. Kasem echoed Paul Harvey on his folksy, long running news broadcasts. But he told NYT that the technique harked back to his childhood in the Middle Eastern immigrant neighbourhood of <b><span style="color: orange;">Detroit</span></b>.<br /><br />'<i>I was drawing on the Arabic tradition of storytelling one-upmanship</i>,' he said. '<i>When I was a kid, men would gather in my parents' living room and tell tales and try to outdo each other. I couldn't understand the language, but I was fascinated.</i>'<br /><br /><b><span style="color: orange;">Kemal Amen Kasem</span></b> was born in <b>Detroit</b> on <b><span style="color: orange;">27 April 1932</span></b>. His parents <b>Amin</b> and <b>Helen Kasem</b>, were Lebanese immigrants who owned a grocery store.<br /><br />After graduating from Wayne State University in Detroit, he worked in <b>local radio</b>, produced broadcasts for the <b>Armed Forces Network</b> during a stint in the Army and landed in <b>Los Angeles</b>, at <b><span style="color: orange;">KRLA</span></b>, where he developed his trademark of <b><span style="color: orange;">introducing records with historical tidbits</span></b> about the artists and their songs. For a time he also had a local television dance show.<br /><br />In <b><span style="color: orange;">1970</span></b>, along with <b>Don Bustany</b>, a Hollywood movie producer and childhood friend, Mr. Kasem came up with the idea of a <b><span style="color: orange;">countdown radio show</span></b> modeled after '<b>Your Hit Parade</b>' and proposed it to the syndication company <b><span style="color: orange;">Watermark Inc.</span></b>, which was later bought by <b>ABC Radio Networks</b>. Mr. Kasem had always wanted to be a movie star, he told interviewers, but never had much success beyond cameo roles in films like '<b>New York, New York</b>' (1977), in which he played a 1940s disc jockey, and '<b>Ghostbusters</b>' (1984), in which he played himself.<br /><br />Casey Kasem's biggest role off the radio was in the TV cartoon series 'Scooby-Doo, Where Are you!' as the voice of Shaggy, the canine hero's goofy companion. In the 1970s and 80s his voice was heard on TV commercials for Sears, Ford, Chevron, Oscar Mayer and Heinz.<br /><br />Following the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 1982, Mr. Kasem, whose parents belonged to the Druze sect in Lebanon, an offshoot of Islam, became a vocal advocate for Middle East peace and Arab-American causes. In later years he was active in promoting Arab-Israeli dialogue, making personal appearances at mosques and synagogues around the country.<br /><br />Mr. Kasem, with an audience of <b><span style="color: orange;">10 million listeners</span></b> in his heyday, made <b><span style="color: orange;">politeness</span></b> and <b><span style="color: orange;">decorum</span></b> <b>hallmarks of his broadcast</b>. His courtly voice seemed capable of rendering the most raunchy song titles in appropriate-sounding phonemes, and when not able, to swerve around the problem effortlessly.<br /><br />He would no say '<b><span style="color: orange;">I want your sex</span></b>' when that was the title of a <b>1987</b> hit song, for instance. Instead, Mr. Kasem introduced that one as '<i>George Michael's latest</i>'.<br /><br />Given the audicence he imagined for himself, Mr. Kasem could hardly do otherwise. '<i>I picture people in a car, with Mom and Dad in the front seat, a couple of kids in the back seat, and a grandparent as well</i>,' he told Billboard.<br /><br />In another interview, he said: '<i>I feel good that you can be going to synagogue, mosque or church and listen to me, and nobody is going to be embarrased by the language that I use, the innuendo. Quite frankly, I think we're good for America</i>'.<br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZN6IfxNasIhqvnqe1OaPXEn8w86-FNCBHs_Sswld1LWAC-OjlgAQSuk5hb8Gn_VEaVqTpx-5Jd9ED3S8-TVYCRSfkKjSMFnG94rJwzhZMgYdG6DTWwUhTDdvE8k17IjoLpM-uyM4BS_X/s1600/00kasem-obit-slide-VOWW-superJumbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZN6IfxNasIhqvnqe1OaPXEn8w86-FNCBHs_Sswld1LWAC-OjlgAQSuk5hb8Gn_VEaVqTpx-5Jd9ED3S8-TVYCRSfkKjSMFnG94rJwzhZMgYdG6DTWwUhTDdvE8k17IjoLpM-uyM4BS_X/s1600/00kasem-obit-slide-VOWW-superJumbo.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Casey Kassem compering TV show 'Shebang' in the 1960s. </span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><b>Casey Kasem, wholesome voice o pop radio, dies at 82</b>.<br /><br />by Paul Vitello for The New York Times<br />15 June 2014.<br /><br />Casey Kasem, a disc jockey who never claimed to love rock'n'roll but who built a long and lucrative career from it, creating and hosting one of <b>radio's most popular</b> <b><span style="color: orange;">syndicated pop music shows</span></b>, '<b><span style="color: orange;">American Top 40</span></b>', died on Sunday, <b><span style="color: orange;">15 June 2014</span></b>, in a hospital in Gig Harbor, Washington. He was 82.<br /><br />His death was announced by Danny Deraney, a spokesman for Mr. Kasem's daughter Kerri. Mr. Kasem had Lewdy body dementia, a progressive disease of the body's neurological and muscel cells.<br /><br />In addition to his wife, who played the tall, blong, dimwitted character Loretta Tortelli on the sitcom 'Cheers', and their daughter, Liberty, his survivors include his 3 children from a previous marriage, which ended in divorce: Julie, Michael and Kerri Kasem.<br /><br />In 2007, after he learned he had <b>Lewdy body dementia</b>, Mr. Kasem gave his 3 oldest children legal authority to act as his health care proxy at whatever point he became unable to make decisions himself. The agreement stipulated that he did not want to be kept alive with 'any form of life-sustaining procedures, including nutrition and hydration', if he lost all cognitive function and was given no hope of recovery. Differences between the 3 older children and Mr. Kasem's wife played out in increasingly bitter courtroom clashes in the final months.<br /><br />In his final months, Mr. Kasem, who had lived in Beverly Hills, California, was at the centre of a family legal battle over the terms of his death, pitting his wife, the actress Jean Kasem, against his 3 adult children from a previous marriage. Ms. Kasem removed her husband from a Santa Monica nursing home on 7 May 2014 and took him to stay with friends in Washington State. By courd order, he was moved to the hospital on 1 June.</span></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-25042338432824769292020-10-09T14:09:00.007-07:002022-08-03T02:58:10.450-07:00Olden immigrant photos <p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyJsGcteU3A2vTs8-P5vuYQN33vDM7_z9UgorUp_Ugjd2pESp7rlHT33N0KX6GjMJJDz1lRQwQaGGLJJIBNV-cbbwHapWJMf1uAU3KCQtDCKNjKZprFRjQAJjpll0h0mUdRxQmFJc9oD3/s1600/1073.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1230" data-original-width="880" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyJsGcteU3A2vTs8-P5vuYQN33vDM7_z9UgorUp_Ugjd2pESp7rlHT33N0KX6GjMJJDz1lRQwQaGGLJJIBNV-cbbwHapWJMf1uAU3KCQtDCKNjKZprFRjQAJjpll0h0mUdRxQmFJc9oD3/s640/1073.jpg" width="457" /></span></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Italian family arrive in Ellis Island, N.Y.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqU9v5hNJMg2yqDWnHQAW6htIP5A9H8gKxXOnSZMNVFzeBrcqxnlG00VGiYKvV-bAojfK5U1bazyNiY6XHMSMDKii2W2yyUTGOGIicsLiU2Av-T20taL-NZgRXkA5F4cPQ281E8GKDN4t/s1600/1436.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="880" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqU9v5hNJMg2yqDWnHQAW6htIP5A9H8gKxXOnSZMNVFzeBrcqxnlG00VGiYKvV-bAojfK5U1bazyNiY6XHMSMDKii2W2yyUTGOGIicsLiU2Av-T20taL-NZgRXkA5F4cPQ281E8GKDN4t/s640/1436.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">another Italian family arriving in New York...<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCC8ZhwCMPxftVjm6io2StrZ5m6AHMHEwv_F17ycmq4oEA0MFvVVy-WGHQIpCnuW0nArOX-RU4YPojo35vv6qeD9yfvYQ76galFFvviKPImR70efKiJaWcKvd8uSMS48HSLgsMnkpEsMe/s1600/06+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCC8ZhwCMPxftVjm6io2StrZ5m6AHMHEwv_F17ycmq4oEA0MFvVVy-WGHQIpCnuW0nArOX-RU4YPojo35vv6qeD9yfvYQ76galFFvviKPImR70efKiJaWcKvd8uSMS48HSLgsMnkpEsMe/s1600/06+%25282%2529.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjBU2PIvMAAyitiBqAEtzY2ZjLqeNg3bhE_ZWKYQwv_-_SDvnuOPpQC2765IvffhN-vmGr0Eh72HS84H_OtX0ZtU9li_j2XDZajHHq9_nCwY9-bIe2HeX7850Kv-HqTMoDFRNsbRrVzTu/s1600/06+%25283%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="142" data-original-width="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjBU2PIvMAAyitiBqAEtzY2ZjLqeNg3bhE_ZWKYQwv_-_SDvnuOPpQC2765IvffhN-vmGr0Eh72HS84H_OtX0ZtU9li_j2XDZajHHq9_nCwY9-bIe2HeX7850Kv-HqTMoDFRNsbRrVzTu/s1600/06+%25283%2529.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMlvCEl2xmBN0lYxBhPNtuh_DEFLFlLNSerK4hUjwYuND78T1EiJr0NpfbbMcSAJHFXfEoox8GLHyKa3qaGAiXI25ZrmBoVCLKoOwn5e6bBZCgpCZkmW0e7nwKj6jpVzWZyKbVULFaDYhG/s1600/07+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="473" data-original-width="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMlvCEl2xmBN0lYxBhPNtuh_DEFLFlLNSerK4hUjwYuND78T1EiJr0NpfbbMcSAJHFXfEoox8GLHyKa3qaGAiXI25ZrmBoVCLKoOwn5e6bBZCgpCZkmW0e7nwKj6jpVzWZyKbVULFaDYhG/s1600/07+%25282%2529.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnc8JBQrBJz24yEMnUSm3ImFrtss-tvdRMaUpJUrRcxuWYYqNiavNC1tJqBf8sFB9SY0nPDfeMDxbL3GDQcBU9fXJYwokqKyhXptE9M9rmXgoOg2zQCajcDBuziW4B1knV_fkVjoeer13V/s1600/07+%25283%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="138" data-original-width="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnc8JBQrBJz24yEMnUSm3ImFrtss-tvdRMaUpJUrRcxuWYYqNiavNC1tJqBf8sFB9SY0nPDfeMDxbL3GDQcBU9fXJYwokqKyhXptE9M9rmXgoOg2zQCajcDBuziW4B1knV_fkVjoeer13V/s1600/07+%25283%2529.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgxE8sfFMLyY3AlSy04VamfwUPiE_ze-QVnBEr8ar2GCWsh4im6yS93Wc4QBqgpA-2ThtUdw_9HnEkGl2yQw5AZ1BQhrqwXngb_lm8JLaVJI7CFd0hWsvb1dQ_Bdw9UTjxllU47lRMoEu/s1600/powerhouse.mechanic.1921.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="880" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgxE8sfFMLyY3AlSy04VamfwUPiE_ze-QVnBEr8ar2GCWsh4im6yS93Wc4QBqgpA-2ThtUdw_9HnEkGl2yQw5AZ1BQhrqwXngb_lm8JLaVJI7CFd0hWsvb1dQ_Bdw9UTjxllU47lRMoEu/s640/powerhouse.mechanic.1921.jpg" width="447" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">power-house mechanic in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1921</span></b>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXK2ZyhJMFAK5Z0NN3y-dcAy7VMr6iH67LJ_vlwVAnHFz9xerpB_FGPPF0B3I07R5pUfLtPSzu68lgk7z7ufVIXS_4FEtfWhuN7LzaRvUbn36MlRAYy_ecdRc7bkOBHwUygr5C6QGxCi2g/s1600/785.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="785" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXK2ZyhJMFAK5Z0NN3y-dcAy7VMr6iH67LJ_vlwVAnHFz9xerpB_FGPPF0B3I07R5pUfLtPSzu68lgk7z7ufVIXS_4FEtfWhuN7LzaRvUbn36MlRAYy_ecdRc7bkOBHwUygr5C6QGxCi2g/s640/785.jpg" width="490" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Up up and away... </span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-iQuzbaHGi5E9_ROHTB_lnPUlFPk0ffM4zxxIQsPKpEbv_VwJXpu1CqIGiKYXRbDCIOUX1cLKOKiRlmpHdMDqwrxfhuqHnZ1wFyBJxwT5oBeXZ6iXZZkl97i1y_NheiTztON_MNBSGhEIJPW6fEP4cvYsuf6g3Yv3lOJ8tSTtQ0Exhz4ZA21z-VxKqg/s788/negro.auction.Atlanta.GA.1864.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="440" data-original-width="788" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-iQuzbaHGi5E9_ROHTB_lnPUlFPk0ffM4zxxIQsPKpEbv_VwJXpu1CqIGiKYXRbDCIOUX1cLKOKiRlmpHdMDqwrxfhuqHnZ1wFyBJxwT5oBeXZ6iXZZkl97i1y_NheiTztON_MNBSGhEIJPW6fEP4cvYsuf6g3Yv3lOJ8tSTtQ0Exhz4ZA21z-VxKqg/w640-h357/negro.auction.Atlanta.GA.1864.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Black <b>Union soldier</b> guarding a <b>slave auction house</b> in Atlanta, Georgia in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1864</span></b>.</span></span></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-26906916251693039952020-10-01T11:30:00.015-07:002024-03-24T11:43:58.330-07:00Mac Davis - 1942-2020<p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCiME8YXY3Fql7VbUsP_9EO00ej2zQpgRqczbACMYxZXwRiMQow71oVtz_6YhFaIyged5ZIabJEmByPYQ2zDnyu4Liow3yGGZNtPnmttO5mF3HO5wuL8sZCilt3Zf3JRCrsPisHwGC7rkPruAunCdmHdJgGXeHa-MBItWPPMTzkQveZlK5cEKZvKJK80L/s758/MacDavis800GETTY_9_20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="758" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCiME8YXY3Fql7VbUsP_9EO00ej2zQpgRqczbACMYxZXwRiMQow71oVtz_6YhFaIyged5ZIabJEmByPYQ2zDnyu4Liow3yGGZNtPnmttO5mF3HO5wuL8sZCilt3Zf3JRCrsPisHwGC7rkPruAunCdmHdJgGXeHa-MBItWPPMTzkQveZlK5cEKZvKJK80L/w640-h506/MacDavis800GETTY_9_20.jpg" width="640" /></a></b></div><p></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Mac Davis, pop and country singing star, is dead at 78</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After writing hits for Elvis Presley and others, he became famous in his own right when “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Baby</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">don’t get hooked on me</span></b>” went to<b> #1</b> on <b>5 August 1972</b>, and stayed at the top for 3 weeks. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">Nashville - Mac Davis, the pop-country <b>crossover star</b> who wrote hits for Elvis Presley and had a No. 1 pop single of his own with “Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me,” died on Tuesday , <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">29</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">September 2020</span></b>, at a hospital here. He was 78. </span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;">His manager and friend, Jim Morey, said the cause was complications of Mr. Davis’s recent heart surgery.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Morris Mac Davis</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;">was born on</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">21st January 1942</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">, in</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial;">Lubbock</b><span style="font-family: arial;">, Texas the second of three children. He and his sister, Linda, spent their childhood living in an efficiency apartment complex with their father, T.J., a building contractor, after their parents divorced; his brother, Kim, grew up in Atlanta their mother, Edith.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Davis’s first guitar was a gift from his father when he was 9 years old. But he was less interested in music than in sports and fist-fighting until he finished high school and moved in with his mother in Atlanta, where he started a rock ’n’ roll group called the Zots.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The band released a pair of singles on a local label before Mr. Davis accepted a job as <b>regional manager</b> for <b>Vee-Jay Records</b>, the influential independent label that was home to popular R&B singers like Jerry Butler and Gene Chandler.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He moved to <b>Liberty Records</b> in the mid-1960s and was soon transferred to Hollywood, where he worked for the label’s publishing division before leaving to join Boots Enterprises, the production and publication company owned by Nancy Sinatra.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While working for Ms. Sinatra, he played on her studio recordings and in her stage shows. He also began publishing his own songs and persuading Presley and other artists to record them.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He left Boots Enterprises in <b>1970</b>, shortly after meeting the <b>Columbia Records</b> executive Clive Davis and signing a recording contract with the label. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Davis enjoyed early success as a songwriter in 1969, supplying </span><b style="font-family: arial;">Elvis Presley</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> with hits like “</span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">In the Ghetto</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">” </span><b style="font-family: arial;">#3</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> on </span><b style="font-family: arial;">17 May 1969</b><span style="font-family: arial;">, and “</span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Don’t cry daddy</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">” #6 on </span><b style="font-family: arial;">13 December</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial;">1969</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> after spending much of the 1960s working in sales and publishing for independent record companies.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He also wrote “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Something’s burning</span></b>,” <b>#11</b> on <b>14 March 1970</b>, for <b>Kenny Rogers</b> & the <b>First Edition</b>, and “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">I believe in music</span></b>,” <b>#22</b> on <b>7 October 1972</b>, for Detroit pop group Gallery.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“<b>I believe in music</b>” was recorded by scores of artists and became Mr. Davis’s signature song; he closed his concerts with it for decades. “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Watching Scotty Grow</span></b>,” #11 on <b>9 January 1971</b>, recorded by <b>Bobby Goldsboro</b> is another of his best-known compositions. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Singing in a warm, resonant baritone, Mr. Davis recorded many of these originals himself, working in a Southern pop vein akin to that of <b>Presley</b>, whom he often cited, and his fellow Lubbock, Texas, native <b>Buddy Holly</b>, whom he called his greatest musical influence.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“He was like nothing I’d ever seen before,” Mr. Davis said in an interview with the website Elvis Australia about the first time he saw Presley perform onstage, in a parking lot at the county fairgrounds in Lubbock.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Of course, I was just a kid (14), you know,” Mr. Davis went on. “So was he (21).”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Genial, photogenic and fit, Mr. Davis had his own television variety hour, “</span><b style="font-family: arial;">The Mac Davis</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><b style="font-family: arial;">Show</b><span style="font-family: arial;">,” from </span><b style="font-family: arial;">1974</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> to </span><b style="font-family: arial;">1976</b><span style="font-family: arial;"> on NBC and was a regular guest on “The Tonight Show” and other talk shows in those years. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Then all hell broke loose when “<b>Baby don’t get hooked on me</b>” went to Number One on <b>5 August 1972</b>, and stayed on top for 3 weeks. '<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">One hell of a woman</span></b>', his follow up single got to #11 on <b>25 May 1974</b>. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Buoyed by singalong choruses and a handclap beat, “</span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Stop and smell the roses</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">,” #9 on <b>7</b> <b>September 1974</b>, was his 2nd hit for that year, expressed a naïve optimism verging on schmaltz. “Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me,” with lines like “I’ll just use you, then I’ll set you free” (about desiring only casual sex from a woman), smacked of male chauvinism.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By contrast, “<b>In the ghetto</b>” — inspired by Mr. Davis’s experience with a childhood playmate, the 5-year-old son of one of his father’s Black co-workers — conveyed empathy and depth in speaking to racial inequities.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I really thought I was going to change the world with that song,” Mr. Davis said of “In the Ghetto” in a 2017 interview with the website songwriteruniverse.com. “I was very proud of it. But unfortunately, with the way things are today, the song is probably more poignant now than when I wrote it.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Davis had only four Top 40 pop hit singles with Columbia. But by the mid-1970s he had become more of a force on the country chart, where he had 16 Top 40 singles, including the Top 10 hit “Hooked on Music,” between 1972 and 1985.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He made his acting debut in the <b>1979</b> movie “North Dallas Forty,” a comedy that starred Nick Nolte as an aging football star and Mr. Davis as a calculating quarterback.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His work as an actor also gained momentum as the ’80s progressed, including roles in the Hollywood movies “Cheaper to Keep Her” (1981) and “The Sting II” (1983), as well as appearances on TV shows like “The Muppet Show” and “King of the Hill.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1993 Mr. Davis played the title role in the Broadway musical “The Will Rogers Follies."</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He was honoured with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1998. Two years later he was inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2006.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">More recently, after years of inactivity on the charts, Mr. Davis enjoyed a <b>revival</b> as a <b>songwriter</b>, collaborating with latter-day pop artists like </span><b style="font-family: arial;">Avicii</b><span style="font-family: arial;">, the Swedish D.J. with whom he wrote the 2014 global pop hit “<b>Addicted to you</b>.” (Avicii died at 28 in 2018.)</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He also wrote “<b>Young girls</b>” with the pop star <b>Bruno Mars</b>; a version released by Mr. Mars in 2012 was certified platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America. Mr. Davis’s other projects over the last few years included collaborations with the country star Keith Urban and the singer Rivers Cuomo of the band Weezer.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Davis in 2014. By the mid-1970s he had become a force on the country chart, where he had 16 Top 40 singles between 1972 and 1985.Credit...Jack Plunkett/Invision, via Associated Press</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Mr. Davis is survived by his wife of 38 years, Lise (Gerard) Davis; their two sons, Noah Claire and Cody Luke; another son, Joel Scott, from his first marriage; a sister, Linda; his mother; and a granddaughter.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Most accounts of Mr. Davis’s childhood cite his passion for sports and fisticuffs as the reason he ignored the guitar his father gave him as a Christmas present when he was a boy. A 1980 profile in People magazine, though, suggested that it wasn’t the guitar, but his father’s choice of models, that gave Mr. Davis pause.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He “saved up, bless his heart, and bought me a Hawaiian steel guitar, the exact opposite of what I wanted,” Mr. Davis explained.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I tried to act like I loved it,” he went on, “but I almost cried.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-k_RPWHR2L1f544zbI928PPHuRnof4poGoTHh29y16vQnBKRF5BY6M7P-hqh3i3rMno2TLcgQl_Rcw0yrUCfr8G27CCYAjQ_i3K6c9G8kFfmlLyQc5wNgzWFJ62d7C73hBttvhuMOtmn/s2048/30Davis1-superJumbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1359" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-k_RPWHR2L1f544zbI928PPHuRnof4poGoTHh29y16vQnBKRF5BY6M7P-hqh3i3rMno2TLcgQl_Rcw0yrUCfr8G27CCYAjQ_i3K6c9G8kFfmlLyQc5wNgzWFJ62d7C73hBttvhuMOtmn/w425-h640/30Davis1-superJumbo.jpg" width="425" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Mr. Davis’s songwriting in the late 1960s and early ’70s was a product of that era, revealing a debt to both the sunny humanism of 1967’s Summer of Love and the candid sensuality of the sexual revolution that accompanied it.</span></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Bill Friskics-Warren for The New York Times</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="text-align: justify;">30 September 2020. </span></span></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-48224713229255870722020-09-30T12:22:00.012-07:002020-12-28T03:31:13.564-08:00Helen Reddy - 1941-2020<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp4ogcwy6WGBs8tvTdA0vxoWW-ZsS552g2KhciYs0WNtXDqpP3MaQd51tJIA3ZCu2psxP_a7abLC8ff9br6fUB-FFyIM66Qv6Y4tnnnyaFLHoLHs3aKRY9P2Xu6NEVLqF_6SKoJf3Ljfwb/s2048/30Reddy1-sub-superJumbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1358" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp4ogcwy6WGBs8tvTdA0vxoWW-ZsS552g2KhciYs0WNtXDqpP3MaQd51tJIA3ZCu2psxP_a7abLC8ff9br6fUB-FFyIM66Qv6Y4tnnnyaFLHoLHs3aKRY9P2Xu6NEVLqF_6SKoJf3Ljfwb/w424-h640/30Reddy1-sub-superJumbo.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Helen Reddy, the Australian-born singer whose 1972 hit song “I Am Woman” became the feminist anthem of the decade and propelled her to international pop-music stardom, died on Tuesday, </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">29 September 2020</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">, in Los Angeles. She was 78.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A statement from Reddy’s children, Traci and Jordan, was posted to her official fan page on Facebook on Tuesday afternoon. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“It is with deep sadness that we announce the passing of our beloved mother, Helen Reddy, on the afternoon of 29 September 2020, in Los Angeles,” the statement said. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“She was a wonderful Mother, Grandmother and a truly formidable woman. Our hearts are broken. But we take comfort in the knowledge that her voice will live on forever.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Reddy had been diagnosed with dementia in 2015 and had been living in a Los Angeles nursing home for professional entertainers. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Reddy suffered for decades from Addison’s disease (she had a kidney removed when she was 17) and, since at least 2015, from dementia.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">I Am Woman</span></b>” reached No. 1 on the Billboard chart on <b>9 December 1972</b> - a good six months after it was released - individual call-in requests helped build radio play - and earned her the Grammy Award for best female pop vocal performance. She was the first Australian-born artist to win a Grammy and the first to make it to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 chart.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Some male observers called the song — beginning with the words “I am woman/ Hear me roar/ In numbers too big to ignore,” sung by a 5-foot-3 soprano — angry, man-hating, dangerous or all three.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“That simply underlined the many things women needed liberating from,” Dennis Harvey of Variety reflected in 2019. “Nobody called Sinatra a menace when he sang ‘My Way,’ a no less straightforward <b>hymn</b> to <b>self-determination</b>.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Besides 'I am woman' Ms Reddy reached the top of Billboard chart with “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Delta Dawn</span></b>”, #1 on <b>15</b> <b>September 1973</b> and “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Angie Baby</span></b>”, #1 on <b>28 December 1974</b>. Three others songs made the Top 10: “<b>Leave Me Alone</b> (<b>Ruby Red Dress</b>)”, #3 on 17 November 1973; '<b>You and me</b> <b>against the world</b>', #9 on 20 July 1974 and “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Ain’t No Way to Treat a Lady</span></b>”, #8 on 30 August 1975. More than three decades later, The Chicago Tribune declared her the “queen of ’70s pop.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">Helen Maxine Lamond Reddy</span></b> was born on <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">25 October 1941</span></b>, in <b>Melbourne</b>, Australia, the only child of Max Reddy, a writer, producer and actor, and Stella (Lamond) Reddy, an actress whose stage name was Stella Campbell. Her father was in New Guinea, serving in the Australian Army, when she was born.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The Reddys performed on the <b>Australian vaudeville circuit</b>, and Helen began joining them onstage when she was <b>4</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">At 12, she rebelled by quitting show business and going to live with an aunt while her parents toured. But her financial situation - after an early marriage, parenthood and divorce - persuaded her to return.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Reddy had a solid reputation in Australian television and radio when she won a <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1966</span></b> <b>talent contest</b> sponsored by “Bandstand,” a Sydney pop-music television show. The prize was a <b>trip to New York City</b> and a record-company audition there.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The audition did not pan out, and her career got off to a slow, discouraging start. Before <b>Capitol</b> signed her in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1970</span></b>, at least 27 record labels rejected her, and she and her new husband, <b>Jeff Wald</b>, who was now her <b>manager</b>, moved - first to Chicago, then to Los Angeles.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Times were hard, especially when the couple lived in New York. In “The Woman I Am: A Memoir” (2006), Ms. Reddy wrote, “When we did eat, it was spaghetti, and we spent what little money we had on cockroach spray.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Reddy’s first hit was a <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">1971</span></b> cover of “<b><span style="color: #ffa400;">I don’t know how to love him</span></b>,” from the award-winning stage show “<b>Jesus Christ Superstar</b>,” which got to <b>#13</b> at Billboard's chart on <b>8 May 1971</b>. “I Am Woman,” with Ms. Reddy’s lyrics and Ray Burton’s music, came a year later.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Reddy was a frequent guest in the early ’70s on variety, music and talk shows like “The Mike Douglas Show,” “The Carol Burnett Show,” “The David Frost Show,” “The Merv Griffin Show” and “The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour.” “The Helen Reddy Show” (1973) was an eight-episode summer replacement series on NBC.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She made her big-screen debut in the disaster movie “<b>Airport 1975</b>” (released in 1974) as a guitar-playing nun who comforts a sick little girl (Linda Blair) on an almost certainly doomed 747. Ms. Reddy always liked to point out that Gloria Swanson and Myrna Loy were also in the cast.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That was followed by a starring role in the Disney movie “Pete’s Dragon” (1977), as a skeptical New England lighthouse keeper who doubts an orphaned boy’s stories about his animated fire-breathing pet.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After a cameo in the film version of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” (1978), starring Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees, it was on to guest spots on “The Love Boat” and “Fantasy Island.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By the 1980s, her glory days were largely in the past, and she was bored. “I remember the <b>Vegas days</b> when it was two shows a night, seven nights a week,” she told The Chicago Tribune in 2013, “and it became so rote that I’d be thinking about wallpaper while I was singing.”</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Reddy’s <b>Broadway career</b> consisted of replacing the lead in “Blood Brothers,” a musical set in Liverpool, for a few months in 1995. But she had a busy stage career elsewhere, starring in productions of “Anything Goes,” “Call Me Madam” and “Shirley Valentine” in England and in the United States, from Provincetown to Sacramento.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The last Helen Reddy song to make the American charts was “I Can’t Say Goodbye to You” (1981). “Imagination” (1983) was her last album. Her final screen appearance was in “The Perfect Host” (2010), a crime comedy with David Hyde Pierce.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMatjVEkwfFvdZlduWanxNB_3XHGB6CHCoffodi33mM86QUfq6Wnxk-xBC_BulAsFau48mEHNkoSC78vltk5Jq9F665LOXEMAMwfmu_sS5jW68tBLUfir6DipLoI9rdJ9pqeUZXrcBw90M/s1024/30reddy1-jumbo.2009.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="759" data-original-width="1024" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMatjVEkwfFvdZlduWanxNB_3XHGB6CHCoffodi33mM86QUfq6Wnxk-xBC_BulAsFau48mEHNkoSC78vltk5Jq9F665LOXEMAMwfmu_sS5jW68tBLUfir6DipLoI9rdJ9pqeUZXrcBw90M/w640-h474/30reddy1-jumbo.2009.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms.Reddy performing in Sydney, Australia, in 2009. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When Ms. Reddy <b>retired</b> in <b><span style="color: #ffa400;">2002</span></b>, she meant business: She went back to school, got a degree in clinical hypnotherapy and <b>practiced </b>as a <b>therapist </b>and <b>motivational speaker</b>. In 2012, after a public appearance at her half sister’s birthday party, she announced a show business comeback and made several concert appearances in the United States before <b>retiring again</b>.</span></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She was a strong believer in <b>past-lives regression</b>. (In 1969, as a newcomer in Los Angeles, she studied parapsychology part time at U.C.L.A.) In her 2006 memoir, in a slightly surreal section on British royalty, she declared that the Duchess of Windsor had been the reincarnation of Richard III and that Elizabeth II and Princess Margaret had been, in past lives, the little princes Richard had once locked in the Tower of London.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ms. Reddy <b>married</b> and divorced three times. In <b>1961</b>, she married Kenneth Claude Weate, an older musician who was a family friend. They had a <b>daughter</b> and divorced in 1966. In <b>1968</b>, she married <b>Mr. Wald</b>, and they had a <b>son</b>. They separated in <b>1981</b>, when he checked into a treatment facility for <b>cocaine addiction</b>, and divorced two years later. That same year, she married Milton Ruth, a drummer in her band. They divorced in <b>1995</b>.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Survivors include her two children, <b>Traci Wald Donat</b>, a daughter from her first marriage, and <b>Jordan Sommers</b>, a son from her second; her half sister, Toni Lamond, an Australian singer and actress; and one grandchild.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A feature-film biography of Ms. Reddy, “I Am Woman,” had its premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival in <b>2019</b>. The Hollywood Reporter called it “entertaining and sharply packaged,” with a “breakout performance” by Tilda Cobham-Hervey as Ms. Reddy.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In a 2013 interview, Ms. Reddy seemed philosophical. “I am at the age where I can just kick back and say what a wonderful life I’ve had,” she told The Sydney Morning Herald. And she laughed when one very familiar question came up: whether she was nervous the first time she went onstage.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“I don’t remember the first time I went onstage,” she said.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawmxpYw_gWolYjXm341E7WYq9Ot7XxNW6rrdmuXBu2uT87HrkYGGRHBvqIRpKMN21osZPnU86ZT_fnZv_0LIGDPuVqLWuL48vsn1IxjNmsplCqIsZzLAF7RCPLn2aSbZYwTQpven0qEv4/s1024/30reddy3-jumbo-v2.1977.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1024" height="558" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawmxpYw_gWolYjXm341E7WYq9Ot7XxNW6rrdmuXBu2uT87HrkYGGRHBvqIRpKMN21osZPnU86ZT_fnZv_0LIGDPuVqLWuL48vsn1IxjNmsplCqIsZzLAF7RCPLn2aSbZYwTQpven0qEv4/w640-h558/30reddy3-jumbo-v2.1977.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Helen Reddy in <b>1977</b>. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Helen Reddy, Australian singer of feminist anthem 'I Am Woman', dies aged 78</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The singer, whose career was celebrated in the 2019 biopic of the same name, had been diagnosed with dementia several years ago</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">29 September 2020</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Stephanie Convery</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Helen Reddy, the Australian singer best known for her anthemic 1972 hit I Am Woman, has died at 78.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A statement from Reddy’s children, Traci and Jordan, was posted to her official fan page on Tuesday afternoon.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I Am Woman: how Helen Reddy’s music roared through the women’s movement</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy might have once been famously called the “queen of housewife rock” by Alice Cooper, but her music captured the zeal of a generation of women radicalised by the sixties and a nascent second-wave feminist movement.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy became a star despite pushback from record companies at the time, many of which believed there was little money to be made in music by women. In the early 70s, Reddy’s songs dominated the Billboard charts. In 1972, she won a Grammy for best female pop vocal for I Am Woman, becoming the first Australian to do so. She was the world’s top-selling female vocalist in 1973 and 1974.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">By the end of her career Reddy had 15 top 40 singles and three no. 1 hits, including her most popular, I Am Woman, and had sold more than 25m albums in the United States alone.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy was born in Melbourne in 1941 to a family embedded in the performing arts. She left school at 15 to perform on the road with them, before launching an independent career.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">At the age of 20, Reddy met and married musician Kenneth Weate. The relationship was short-lived; after it ended, Reddy moved back to Sydney with her baby daughter, Traci.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She moved to New York in 1966 with Traci after winning a talent competition that offered the winner a potential recording opportunity for Mercury Records. She was unsuccessful but undaunted, and decided to remain in the States and try to make a career as a singer, despite having very little money and few prospects. Due to issues with her visa, she made trips back and forth to Canada to work.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In 1968, she met her future music manager Jeff Wald at a party. The couple were married quickly, and Reddy decided to stay in the US.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy, Wald and Traci lived frugally until, after frequent lobbying, Wald managed to secure Reddy the opportunity to record a single at Capital Records. It was the intended B-side of that single, I Don’t Know How To Love Him, from the musical Jesus Christ Superstar, that kicked off Reddy’s career, reaching no. 13 on the Billboard charts in 1971.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I Am Woman was released the following year, and by December had topped the charts, making Reddy the first Australian singer to have a number one hit in the United States.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I Am Woman set off a chain of hits for the Reddy, including Delta Dawn, Angie Baby, Leave Me Alone (Ruby Red Dress) and You and Me Against the World. By the mid-70s, she was performing to packed out crowds in Vegas, with the likes of Joan Rivers and Barry Manilow opening for her.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She appeared on talk shows and variety programs, including The Bobby Darin Show, The Muppet Show, and took up a recurring co-hosting slot on The Midnight Special.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy also developed a minor film and TV career, including roles in the thriller Airport 1975 (1974) and the family film, Pete’s Dragon (1977). Later in life, she would cameo as herself on Family Guy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy’s music career had tapered off by the 1980s, but I Am Woman still reverberated around the industry, reappearing in film and TV soundtracks and as pop culture shorthand for feminist empowerment. In 2006, Reddy was inducted in to the Australian Recording Industry Association Hall of Fame.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy’s former husband and manager Jeff Wald reflected in a piece for the Guardian in August this year on the attitudes of the record companies to Reddy’s success. “The record executives said: ‘How can you let your wife do that women’s lib crap? It’ll end her career!’” he said. “I don’t ‘let her’ do anything. I didn’t marry somebody that you gotta ‘let’.”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">His comments came as Reddy’s life and career were immortalised in a feature film, I Am Woman, directed by Unjoo Moon and starring Tilda Cobham-Hervey as Reddy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Moon paid tribute to Reddy in a statement on Tuesday, saying: “When I first met Helen Reddy she told me that I would be in her life for many years. What followed was an amazing seven-year friendship during which she entrusted me with telling her story in a film that celebrates her life, her talents and her amazing legacy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“I will forever be grateful to Helen for teaching me so much about being an artist, a woman and a mother. She paved the way for so many and the lyrics that she wrote for I Am Woman changed my life forever like they have done for so many other people and will continue to do for generations to come.”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Reddy is survived by her children, Traci and Jordan, and her sister Toni Lamond.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div><br /></div></span></div><p></p>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-45459909030791471172020-09-27T04:26:00.001-07:002020-09-27T04:29:36.696-07:00Yvonne Staples *23rd October 1937 +10 April 2018<p> Yvonne Staples, member and manager of the Staple Singers, dies at 80</p>by Liam Stack, 10 April 2018<br />The New York Times<br /><br /><img alt="" class="media-viewer-candidate" data-mediaviewer-caption="From left, Pops, Cleo, Yvonne and Mavis Staples performed in the 1970s." data-mediaviewer-credit="Courtesy of the Staples family" data-mediaviewer-src="https://static01.nyt.com/images/2018/04/11/obituaries/yvonne-staples-obit/yvonne-staples-obit-superJumbo.jpg" itemid="https://static01.nyt.com/images/2018/04/11/obituaries/yvonne-staples-obit/yvonne-staples-obit-master768.jpg" itemprop="url" src="https://static01.nyt.com/images/2018/04/11/obituaries/yvonne-staples-obit/yvonne-staples-obit-master768.jpg" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: block; font-family: cheltenham; font-size: 16px; height: auto; max-width: 100%; width: 705px;" /><div style="text-align: center;">from left: Pops, Cleotha, Yvonne & Mavis Staples.</div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: orange;">Yvonne Staples</span></b>, who provided background vocals for her family's hit-making pop & soul group, the Staple Singers, while taking the lead in managing its business affairs, died on Tuesda, 10 April 2018 at ther home in Chicago. She was 80.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The cause was colon cancer, sadi Bill Carpenter, a family friend. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ms. Staples began singing with her family's act in 1971 and performed on some of their biggest hits, including 'Respect yourself' and 'I'll take you there'.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">'She was very content in that role,' said Mr. Carpenter, the author of 'Uncloudy Day: The Gospel Music Encyclopedia.' 'She had no desire to be a front singer, even though people in the family told her she had a great voice.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: orange;">Yvonne Staples</span></b> was born in Chicago on <b><span style="color: orange;">23 October 1937</span></b>, to Oceola and Roebuck Staples, who was known as Pops.<br /><br /><div>Yvonne's father formed the Staples Singers with his children Pervis, Mavis and Cleotha in 1948. They performed in churches in and around Chicago, toured the South and became active in the civil rights movement, traveling with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Yvonne Staples</b> joined the group in 1971, when <b>Pervis</b> left for military service. The group, whose music blended gosple, soul and pop, had a string of hit songs in the 1970s. '<b>Respect yourself</b>' reached No.2 on the Billboard charts in 1971, '<b><span style="color: orange;">I'll take you there</span></b>' No.1 in 1972, and '<b><span style="color: orange;">Let's do it again</span></b>' was a No.1 hit in 1975.<br /><br />When her sister Mavis began a solo career in the 1980s, Yvonne performed the same double duty for her, singing background vocals and managing her tours until just a few years ago. At her death she was 'pretty much retired,' Mr. Carpenter said.<br /><br />The <b>Staples Singers</b> received a lifetime achievement award at the 2005 Grammy Awards. They also received the Rhythm & Blues Foundations' Pioneer Award.<br /><br />Roebuck Staples died in 2000 and Cleotha Stapples in 2013. Yvonne Staples is survived by her brother and her sister Mavis.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc1HmSU-k_G8CUgQ3fIsPdFjH5VdL2XThGD_qYcJL17ArmWYmeWr_MKtnhTzoSMHaII-sPbE4_darb5aWpI_c-8glHp2dg1RvE-_KPoXuWDKDl4qOTXHQyQJaGJA9WziliMLv5kjJkzYk/s1600/merlin_136666038_ddd7f101-f55e-43d5-9173-d2764ffeca1e-master675.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="434" data-original-width="675" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc1HmSU-k_G8CUgQ3fIsPdFjH5VdL2XThGD_qYcJL17ArmWYmeWr_MKtnhTzoSMHaII-sPbE4_darb5aWpI_c-8glHp2dg1RvE-_KPoXuWDKDl4qOTXHQyQJaGJA9WziliMLv5kjJkzYk/s640/merlin_136666038_ddd7f101-f55e-43d5-9173-d2764ffeca1e-master675.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Staple Singers at Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony in New York in 1999. From left were Pervis, Cleotha, Pops, Mavis and Yvonne Staples. (Albert Ferreira/AP).<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CRPL-eYNljCz0YGQ5H_wgxCs3MB75x6H6ebxLnW_-J-QoS_s-8ffVnv3rZWzJrv0fEx5bYH5IIjMZK9nfq2lCgAXVpvt6FCuW2uJZeRaAXD-n9fQpllDvVKudl6qcCDfhEqWkEcGRFiY/s1600/Cleotha-Staples.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="551" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CRPL-eYNljCz0YGQ5H_wgxCs3MB75x6H6ebxLnW_-J-QoS_s-8ffVnv3rZWzJrv0fEx5bYH5IIjMZK9nfq2lCgAXVpvt6FCuW2uJZeRaAXD-n9fQpllDvVKudl6qcCDfhEqWkEcGRFiY/s400/Cleotha-Staples.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cleo</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><b><span style="color: orange;">Cleotha Staples</span></b>, the eldest sibling in the influential gospel and R&B group the Staple Singers, died on 17 February 2013, at her home in Chicago. She was 78.<br /><br />Her death was confirmed by Bill Carpenter, a family friend and music publicist. He said that Ms. Staple had Alzheimer's disease for the last decade.<br /><br />The <b>Staples Singers</b> were formed in Chicago when the Mississippi-born singer and guitarrist Roebuck Staples, better known as Pops, began teaching gosple songs to his children, Cleotha, Pervis, Yvonne, Mavis and Cynthia, to keep them entertained in the evenings. Mr. Staples and all his children except Cynthia began performing professionally and recording after singing together in church in <b><span style="color: orange;">1948</span></b>.<br /><br />The <b>Staples Singers</b> became one of the biggest gospels groups of the era with songs like 'On my way to heaven' and 'Uncloudy day'. Pops and Mavis Staples handled most of the lead vocals.<br /><br />They became unlikely pop stars after they were signed by Stax Records in the late 1960s. Adopting a more contemporary sound and focusing on social rather than explicitly religious messages, they had a string of Top 40 hits, including 'I'll take you there', which spent a week at No.1 on the Billboard pop singles chart in 1972.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: orange;">Cleotha Staples</span></b> was born on <span style="color: orange;"><b>11 April 1934</b></span>, in Drew, Mississippi, the first child of Pops and Oceola Staples. Two years later, the family moved to Chicago.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_5yxbFJyIxxgIXc2siBtQr9qLLQSfWTcF2eQjJt4iFVd0mvTnWCAXuw8Igo44SynWAN1e8un-rVZVHvks_0oSBQeix6qJ1Y-7QdDkhjKHBezAYxNZaAHICL9X7-wHeH1VubnK9Ye_QkP/s1600/3552.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="1225" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_5yxbFJyIxxgIXc2siBtQr9qLLQSfWTcF2eQjJt4iFVd0mvTnWCAXuw8Igo44SynWAN1e8un-rVZVHvks_0oSBQeix6qJ1Y-7QdDkhjKHBezAYxNZaAHICL9X7-wHeH1VubnK9Ye_QkP/s640/3552.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">left to right: Pops, Cleotha, Mavis & Pervis Staples. Photo by Michael Ochs.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdAqAdTF5E2jSi-IcQvsgrgNHuVr6HFksjLCNGE_Cg1Pum3VJSzW-Mk3BzJAmmK8wUES7tCKikykuRdf32QunVzImUQZs7RGxVIG-VAhrx7H4gC2kg8sf0H-9TceD5G3bqAyCOV1LtfaH/s1600/staplesingers+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="358" data-original-width="570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdAqAdTF5E2jSi-IcQvsgrgNHuVr6HFksjLCNGE_Cg1Pum3VJSzW-Mk3BzJAmmK8wUES7tCKikykuRdf32QunVzImUQZs7RGxVIG-VAhrx7H4gC2kg8sf0H-9TceD5G3bqAyCOV1LtfaH/s1600/staplesingers+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkGt3XApo5yLEwq6Wyx9uBOQO7Xt5CtEcWcbmNEXXyBm5TRz5Gx3fGLFlq9sGdIC7g1QQyA5e1IJQthfhF3-qBrfhNxBGe6OFqieMP56cdZLTyWLBxwnCfDWfoA7ALUBFBfzTS1Z_rwxW/s1600/mavisstaplesbanner2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="1196" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkGt3XApo5yLEwq6Wyx9uBOQO7Xt5CtEcWcbmNEXXyBm5TRz5Gx3fGLFlq9sGdIC7g1QQyA5e1IJQthfhF3-qBrfhNxBGe6OFqieMP56cdZLTyWLBxwnCfDWfoA7ALUBFBfzTS1Z_rwxW/s640/mavisstaplesbanner2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2WODQGIjCZyevOl3WDr6uL9rjIVqhQ3ykgumHjd0sxehUq6Df5QSx4E_N82UC4RXN3eOj4CwD70b0f6NXRAyODRd4rQuePjtRAsFrfx_yYjG0qIfs8Dh5abwRwMs7Y3toXSIac4CCw5D9/s1600/ct-staple-singers-box-review-ae-1108-20151104.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1273" data-original-width="1600" height="509" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2WODQGIjCZyevOl3WDr6uL9rjIVqhQ3ykgumHjd0sxehUq6Df5QSx4E_N82UC4RXN3eOj4CwD70b0f6NXRAyODRd4rQuePjtRAsFrfx_yYjG0qIfs8Dh5abwRwMs7Y3toXSIac4CCw5D9/s640/ct-staple-singers-box-review-ae-1108-20151104.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /></div></div></div></div>Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1333880240859247113.post-29977576521167071822020-07-19T03:25:00.002-07:002021-03-15T05:05:25.416-07:00John Lewis, civil rights organizer 1940-2020<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: arial; text-align: center;">The civil rights leader <b><span style="color: orange;">John Lewis</span></b>, known at the ‘conscience of America’, has died. Born the son of sharecroppers in Alabama on <b><span style="color: orange;">21 February 1940</span></b>, he attended <b>segregated public schools</b> and, inspired by the words of Martin Luther King Jr, became active in the civil rights movement. From university onwards he organised <b>sit-ins</b> at <b>segregated lunch counters</b>, took part in the <b><span style="color: orange;">Freedom Rides</span></b>, was chair of the <b>Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee</b> and was a <b>key speaker</b> at the historic <b><span style="color: orange;">March on Washington</span></b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">1963</span></b>. He led one of the pivotal moments in the civil rights movement, a march over the <b>Edmund Pettus Bridge</b> in <b>Selma, Alabama</b> that was brutally attacked by state troopers.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQHjldGNq6s1ChaYvulIo3dYAuaJnfrOBafPICv2KGa1Uw7xB_3YB82Ti87jHrseH44l6tiPgbmiQ466F2GZZnTv640AJo-ZiHJgHREBBrLuzcyPnxnDStb6LrEOB0lTL7x83okgvbues/s1600/John.Lewis.37.days.in.Parchman.Penitentiary.Missi.disorderly.conduct.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQHjldGNq6s1ChaYvulIo3dYAuaJnfrOBafPICv2KGa1Uw7xB_3YB82Ti87jHrseH44l6tiPgbmiQ466F2GZZnTv640AJo-ZiHJgHREBBrLuzcyPnxnDStb6LrEOB0lTL7x83okgvbues/s1600/John.Lewis.37.days.in.Parchman.Penitentiary.Missi.disorderly.conduct.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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An arrest photo from <b><span style="color: orange;">24 May </span><span style="color: orange;">1961</span></b>, when Lewis served <b>37 days</b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">Parchman Penitentiary</span></b> in <b>Mississippi</b> for ‘<b>disorderly conduct</b>’ - <b><span style="color: orange;">using a restroom labelled white</span></b>.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8YX5HWObY9Gx-WcoNnx-fcVwmBV2rlCRf6Tfc4IH3iBP3M83k3x8jlk4_YpetgDGewSZSqS9-6ULDzWuUMvngMgyTVwARr32mnCwtWbqOWJID26b25D9s72aD9LKaAKa8UGlZBkw-cac9/s1600/John.skull.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="880" height="455" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8YX5HWObY9Gx-WcoNnx-fcVwmBV2rlCRf6Tfc4IH3iBP3M83k3x8jlk4_YpetgDGewSZSqS9-6ULDzWuUMvngMgyTVwARr32mnCwtWbqOWJID26b25D9s72aD9LKaAKa8UGlZBkw-cac9/s640/John.skull.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Lewis</b> being arrested in Jackson, Mississippi on <b><span style="color: orange;">24 May 1961</span></b>. He and 26 other Freedom Riders were arrested that day.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-IBVkgIkecC4N4BkeoUgHIwQ4XfPKSfXQs52DpDlTKP5UugASF-E2ncLhFBCBgwOkSBEupboZeBgW_ZTO1od7fvUUEPiUyRKUCw7kv3XSo5On4UZJmGFtVLwOrnh8SUsPJ6x50-DCe2O/s1600/John..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="880" height="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-IBVkgIkecC4N4BkeoUgHIwQ4XfPKSfXQs52DpDlTKP5UugASF-E2ncLhFBCBgwOkSBEupboZeBgW_ZTO1od7fvUUEPiUyRKUCw7kv3XSo5On4UZJmGFtVLwOrnh8SUsPJ6x50-DCe2O/s640/John..jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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Young Lewis and a fellow <b><span style="color: orange;">Freedom Rider</span></b>, <b>James Zwerg</b>, after they were attacked by segregationists in <b><span style="color: orange;">Montgomery</span></b>, <b>Alabama</b> on <b><span style="color: orange;">24 May 1961</span></b>. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijM8jAQ9H7SD0Y8EdjNwjHzzN6DX2AR8kTqqI-TqrTHtx8Zd4ZRIPEJRBRcaXuusvhbsnSdm4Bi6BQS_y4f_YsaMchKlgIUwYVFV23bVhu7LYLNhnB99wgKCVXyc2UT6gi2z_9_9nPa-la/s1600/18xp-freedom-pix1-jumbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="916" data-original-width="1024" height="572" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijM8jAQ9H7SD0Y8EdjNwjHzzN6DX2AR8kTqqI-TqrTHtx8Zd4ZRIPEJRBRcaXuusvhbsnSdm4Bi6BQS_y4f_YsaMchKlgIUwYVFV23bVhu7LYLNhnB99wgKCVXyc2UT6gi2z_9_9nPa-la/s640/18xp-freedom-pix1-jumbo.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: orange;">15 Freedom Riders</span></b> who were arrested in Jackson, Mississipi.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYiWXrr2P6f3jF4WbueFQgGjjzjfaouxEKMjhys5KWJANJA1NehxwGookOwB_fO_qFMdMv9QqXuQEYy04hiFRRp6ldt49luGh_ub3EgiMAg_1YmziJhrLSCwB_1shgFzVi4vy62KM_ld4/s1600/John.1963.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="880" height="415" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYiWXrr2P6f3jF4WbueFQgGjjzjfaouxEKMjhys5KWJANJA1NehxwGookOwB_fO_qFMdMv9QqXuQEYy04hiFRRp6ldt49luGh_ub3EgiMAg_1YmziJhrLSCwB_1shgFzVi4vy62KM_ld4/s640/John.1963.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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A portrait of Lewis taken in <b><span style="color: orange;">Clarksdale</span></b>, <b>Mississippi</b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">1963</span></b>.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih53ksakiaeikS3l_3i3KFrcYI_RUIvWVH6H6iLz30BK8cQXBy40qYCLbAIAgXGQtSgeRRBuapZSjXHqV9YH0y-7Ee8UkSHg_R4PLaHLpY7Rmy-hV1zIAzUb89qvbI0q_DKEdEkzlW5Zlh/s1600/John.Selma%252C7.March.1965.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="700" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih53ksakiaeikS3l_3i3KFrcYI_RUIvWVH6H6iLz30BK8cQXBy40qYCLbAIAgXGQtSgeRRBuapZSjXHqV9YH0y-7Ee8UkSHg_R4PLaHLpY7Rmy-hV1zIAzUb89qvbI0q_DKEdEkzlW5Zlh/s640/John.Selma%252C7.March.1965.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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Lewis in the <b>white overcoat</b>, just before his <b>skull was fractured</b>. <b><span style="color: orange;">Selma</span></b>, Alabama, <b><span style="color: orange;">7 March 1965</span></b>.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84_CtiDhQFDExLhfq0TlJZFUtmTVGaWtB38wiRbmUntOxaFBo3Hf-lUb1QVWEqcb_k9sJwrvsuRtaKuSTp_J7ZKfC_fD-nH_KXcdjgPFpt0rOhKT5btJCra3RM-APje-J5Oh-TvBCV6m0/s1600/John.fractured.skull.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="880" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84_CtiDhQFDExLhfq0TlJZFUtmTVGaWtB38wiRbmUntOxaFBo3Hf-lUb1QVWEqcb_k9sJwrvsuRtaKuSTp_J7ZKfC_fD-nH_KXcdjgPFpt0rOhKT5btJCra3RM-APje-J5Oh-TvBCV6m0/s640/John.fractured.skull.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">
Lewis (in foreground) is beaten by a <b><span style="color: orange;">state trooper</span></b> as they break up a civil rights <b>voting march</b> in <b>Selma</b>, <b>Alabama</b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">1965</span></b>. Lewis <b><span style="color: orange;">suffered a fractured skull</span></b>.</span></div>
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Martin Luther King led a march later that same month from <b><span style="color: orange;">Selma</span></b> to <b><span style="color: orange;">Montgomery</span></b> in <b>Alabama</b>. Beside King is Lewis, Reverend <b>Jesse Douglas</b>, <b>James Forman</b> and <b>Ralph Abernathy</b>.</span></div>
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At the head of the march from <b>Selma</b> to <b>Montgomery</b> on <b><span style="color: orange;">25 March 1965</span></b>, nuns, priests and civil rights leaders: The Rev. Arthur Matott (from left), John Lewis (head of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee), Andrew Young, Sister Mary Leoline and Theodore Gill.<br />
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John Lewis in <b><span style="color: orange;">1964</span></b>.<br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><b>John Lewis, towering figure of Civil Rights era, dies at 80.</b><br />
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Images of his beating at Selma shocked the nation and led to swift passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. He was later called the conscience of the Congress.</span></div>
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By <b>Katharine Q. Seelye</b></span></div>
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Published at the NYT on 17 July 2020<br />
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Representative John Lewis, a son of <b><span style="color: orange;">sharecroppers</span></b> and an apostle of <b><span style="color: orange;">nonviolence</span></b> who was <b><span style="color: orange;">bloodied </span>at Selma</b> and across the Jim Crow South in the historic struggle for <b>racial equality</b>, and who then carried a mantle of moral authority into Congress, died on Friday, <b><span style="color: orange;">17 July 2020</span></b>. He was 80.<br />
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His death was confirmed in a statement by Nancy Pelosi, the speaker of the House of Representatives.<br />
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Mr. Lewis, a Georgia Democrat, announced on 29 December 2019, that he had Stage 4 <b>pancreatic</b> <b>cancer</b> and vowed to fight it with the same passion with which he had battled racial injustice. “I have been in some kind of fight — for freedom, equality, basic human rights — for nearly my entire life,” he said.</span></div>
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On the front lines of the bloody campaign to end <b><span style="color: orange;">Jim Crow laws</span></b>, with blows to his body and a <b><span style="color: orange;">fractured skull</span></b> to prove it, Mr. Lewis was a valiant stalwart of the civil rights movement and the last surviving speaker from the <b><span style="color: orange;">March on Washington</span></b> for <b>Jobs and Freedom</b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">1963</span></b>.</span></div>
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More than a half-century later, after the killing in May 2020, of <b>George Floyd</b>, a Black man in police custody in Minneapolis, Mr. Lewis welcomed the resulting global demonstrations against police killings of Black people and, more broadly, against <b>systemic racism</b> in many corners of society. He saw those protests as a continuation of his life’s work, though his illness had left him to watch from the sidelines.</span></div>
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“It was very moving, very moving to see hundreds of thousands of people from all over America and around the world <b>take to the streets</b> — to speak up, to <b>speak out</b>, to get into what I call ‘good trouble,’” Mr. Lewis told “CBS This Morning” in June.</span></div>
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“This feels and looks so different,” he said of the Black Lives Matter movement, which drove the anti-racism demonstrations. “It is so much more massive and all inclusive.” He added, “There will be no turning back.”</span></div>
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He died on the same day as another civil rights stalwart, the Rev. C.T. Vivian, a close associate of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.</span></div>
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Mr. Lewis’s personal history paralleled that of the <b><span style="color: orange;">civil rights movement</span></b>. He was among the original <b><span style="color: orange;">13 Freedom Riders</span></b>, the Black and white activists who challenged <b><span style="color: orange;">segregated interstate travel</span></b> in the South in <b>1961</b>. He was a founder and early leader of the <b>Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee</b>, which coordinated <b><span style="color: orange;">lunch-counter sit-ins</span></b>. He helped organize the March on Washington, where Dr. King was the main speaker, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.</span></div>
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Mr. Lewis led demonstrations against racially <b><span style="color: orange;">segregated restrooms</span></b>, hotels, restaurants, <b>public parks </b>and <b><span style="color: orange;">swimming pools</span></b>, and he rose up against other <b>indignities</b> of <b><span style="color: orange;">second-class citizenship</span></b>. At nearly every turn he was <b>beaten</b>, <b>spat upon</b> or <b><span style="color: orange;">burned with cigarettes</span></b>. He was tormented by white mobs and absorbed <b>body blows</b> from law enforcement.</span></div>
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On <b>7 March 1965</b>, he led one of the most famous marches in American history. In the vanguard of 600 people demanding the <b><span style="color: orange;">voting rights</span></b> they had been denied, Mr. Lewis <b>marched</b> partway across the <b>Edmund Pettus Bridge</b> in <b>Selma, Alabama</b>, into a waiting phalanx of <b>state troopers</b> in <span style="color: orange;">riot </span><b><span style="color: orange;">gear</span></b>.</span></div>
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Ordered to disperse, the protesters silently <b>stood their ground</b>. The troopers responded with <b><span style="color: orange;">tear gas </span></b>and <b>bullwhips</b> and <b><span style="color: orange;">rubber tubing wrapped in barbed wire</span></b>. In the <b>melee</b>, which came to be known as <b>Bloody Sunday</b>, a trooper <b>cracked Mr. Lewis’s skull</b> with a <b>billy club</b>, knocking him to the ground, then hit him again when he tried to get up.</span></div>
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Televised images of the beatings of Mr. Lewis and scores of others <b>outraged the nation</b> and galvanized support for the <b>Voting Rights Act</b>, which President <b>Lyndon B. Johnson</b> presented to a joint session of Congress eight days later and signed into law on <b><span style="color: orange;">6 August 1965</span></b>. A milestone in the struggle for civil rights, the law <b>struck down</b> the <b><span style="color: orange;">literacy tests</span></b> that Black people had been compelled to take before they could register to vote and replaced <b>segregationist voting registrars</b> with federal registrars to ensure that Black people were no longer denied the ballot.</span></div>
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Once <b>registered</b>, millions of African-Americans began transforming politics across the South. They gave <b>Jimmy Carter</b>, a son of Georgia, his margin of victory in the <b><span style="color: orange;">1976</span></b> presidential election. (A popular poster proclaimed, “Hands that once picked cotton now can pick a president.”) And their voting power opened the door for Black people, including Mr. Lewis, to run for public office. Elected in <b>1986</b>, he became the second African-American to be sent to Congress from <b>Georgia</b> since <b>Reconstruction</b>, representing a district that encompassed much of Atlanta.</span></div>
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‘Conscience of the Congress’<br />
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While Mr. Lewis represented Atlanta, his natural constituency was disadvantaged people everywhere. Known less for sponsoring major legislation than for his relentless pursuit of justice, he was called “the conscience of the Congress” by his colleagues.</span></div>
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When the House voted in December 2019 to impeach President Trump, Mr. Lewis’s words rose above the rest. “When you see something that is not right, not just, not fair, you have a moral obligation to say something,” he said on the House floor. “To do something. Our children and their children will ask us, ‘What did you do? What did you say?’ For some, this vote may be hard. But we have a mission and a mandate to be on the right side of history.”</span></div>
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His words resonated as well after he saw the video of a Minneapolis police officer kneeling on Mr. Floyd’s neck for more than eight minutes as Mr. Floyd gasped for air.</span></div>
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“It was so painful, it made me cry,” Mr. Lewis told “CBS This Morning.” “People now understand what the struggle was all about,” he said. “It’s another step down a very, very long road toward freedom, justice for all humankind.”</span></div>
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When he was younger, his words could be more militant. History remembers the March on Washington for Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, but Mr. Lewis startled and energized the crowd with his own passion.</span></div>
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“By the force of our demands, our determination and our numbers,” he told the cheering throng on <b><span style="color: orange;">6 August 1965</span></b>, “we shall <b>splinter</b> the <b>segregated South</b> into <b>a thousand pieces</b> and put them together in the image of God and democracy. We must say: ‘Wake up, America. Wake up!’ For we cannot stop, and we will not and cannot be patient.”</span></div>
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His original text was more blunt. “<b>We will march through the South</b>, <b>through the heart of Dixie</b>, <b><span style="color: orange;">the way Sherman did</span></b>,” he had written. President John F. Kennedy’s civil rights bill was “too little, too late,” he had written, demanding, “Which side is the federal government on?”</span></div>
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But Dr. King and other elders — Mr. Lewis was just 23 — worried that those first-draft passages would offend the Kennedy administration, which they felt they could not alienate in their drive for <b>federal action</b> on <b>civil rights</b>. They told him to tone down the speech.</span></div>
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Still, the crowd, estimated at more than 200,000, roared with approval at his every utterance.</span></div>
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An <b>earnest man</b> who lacked the <b>silver tongue</b> of other civil rights orators, Mr. Lewis could be <b><span style="color: orange;">pugnacious</span></b>, <b>tenacious</b> and single-minded, and he led with a force that commanded attention.</span></div>
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He gained a reputation for having an almost <b>mystical faith</b> in his own <b>survivability</b>. One civil rights activist who knew him well told The New York Times in 1976: “Some leaders, even the toughest, would occasionally finesse a situation where they knew they were going to get beaten or jailed. John never did that. He always <b>went full force into the fray</b>.”</span></div>
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Mr. Lewis was <b><span style="color: orange;">arrested 40 times</span></b> from <b>1960</b> to <b>1966</b>. He was <b><span style="color: orange;">repeatedly beaten senseless</span></b> by <b>Southern policemen</b> and <b><span style="color: orange;">freelance hoodlums</span></b>. During the <b>Freedom Rides</b> in <b>1961</b>, he was <b>left unconscious in a pool of his own blood</b> outside the <b>Greyhound Bus Terminal</b> in Montgomery, Ala., after he and others were attacked by hundreds of <b>white people</b>. He spent countless days and nights in <b><span style="color: orange;">county jails</span></b> and <b>31 days</b> in Mississippi’s <b>notoriously brutal</b> <b><span style="color: orange;">Parchman Penitentiary</span></b>.</span></div>
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Once he was in <b>Congress</b>, Mr. Lewis voted with the <b>most liberal</b> Democrats, though he also showed an <b><span style="color: orange;">independent streak</span></b>. In his quest to build what Dr. King called “the beloved community” — a world without <b>poverty</b>, <b>racism</b> or <b>war</b> (Mr. Lewis adopted the phrase) — he routinely <b>voted against <span style="color: orange;">military spending</span></b>.<br />
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He <b><span style="color: orange;">opposed</span></b> the <b>Persian Gulf war of 1991</b> and the <b>North American Free Trade Agreement</b>, which was signed in <b><span style="color: orange;">1992</span></b>. He refused to take part in the “Million Man March” in Washington in 1995, saying that statements made by the organizer, Louis Farrakhan, leader of the Nation of Islam, were “<b>divisive</b> and <b>bigoted</b>.”</span></div>
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In 2001, Mr. Lewis <b>skipped</b> the <b>inauguration of George W. Bush</b>, saying he thought that Mr. Bush, who had become president after the Supreme Court halted a vote recount in Florida, had not been truly elected.</span></div>
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In <b>2017</b> he <b>boycotted</b> Mr. Trump’s <b>inauguration</b>, questioning the legitimacy of his presidency because of evidence that Russia had meddled in the 2016 election on Mr. Trump’s behalf.</span></div>
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That earned him a derisive Twitter post from the president: “Congressman John Lewis should spend more time on fixing and helping his district, which is in horrible shape and falling apart (not to mention crime infested) rather than falsely complaining about the election results. All talk, talk, talk — no action or results. Sad!”<br />
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Mr. Trump’s attack marked a sharp detour from the respect that had been accorded Mr. Lewis by previous presidents, including, most recently, Barack Obama. Mr. Obama awarded Mr. Lewis the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation’s highest civilian honor, in 2011.</span></div>
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In bestowing the honor in a White House ceremony, Mr. Obama said: “Generations from now, when parents teach their children what is meant by courage, the story of John Lewis will come to mind — an American who knew that change could not wait for some other person or some other time; whose life is a lesson in the fierce urgency of now.”</span></div>
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To His Family, ‘Preacher’<br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: orange;">John Robert Lewis</span></b> grew up with all the humiliations imposed by <b>segregated rural</b> Alabama. He was born on <b><span style="color: orange;">21st February 1940</span></b>, to Eddie and Willie Mae (Carter) Lewis near the town of <b><span style="color: orange;">Troy</span></b> on a <b>sharecropping farm</b> owned by a <b>white man</b>. After his parents bought their own farm — 110 acres for $300 — John, the <b>third</b> of <b>10 children</b>, shared in the <b>farm work</b>, leaving school at harvest time to pick cotton, peanuts and corn. Their house had no plumbing or electricity. In the outhouse, they used the pages of an old Sears catalog as toilet paper.</span></div>
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John was responsible for taking care of the <b>chickens</b>. He fed them and read to them from the Bible. He baptized them when they were born and staged elaborate funerals when they died.</span></div>
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“I was truly intent on saving the little birds’ souls,” he wrote in his memoir, “<b><span style="color: orange;">Walking With the</span></b> <b><span style="color: orange;">Wind</span></b>” (1998). “I could imagine that they were my congregation. And me, I was a preacher.”</span></div>
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His family called him “<b><span style="color: orange;">Preacher</span></b>,” and becoming one seemed to be his destiny. He drew inspiration by listening to a young minister named <b>Martin Luther King</b> <b>on the radio</b> and reading about the 1955-56 <b>Montgomery bus boycott</b>. He finally <b>wrote a letter</b> to Dr. King, who <b>sent him</b> a <b>round-trip bus ticket</b> to <b><span style="color: orange;">visit him</span></b> in Montgomery, in <b><span style="color: orange;">1958</span></b>.</span></div>
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By then, Mr. Lewis had begun his studies at American Baptist Theological Seminary (now American Baptist College) in <b>Nashville</b>, where he worked as a dishwasher and janitor to pay for his education.</span></div>
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In Nashville, Mr. Lewis met many of the civil rights activists who would stage the <b><span style="color: orange;">lunch counter sit-ins</span></b>, <b>Freedom Rides</b> and <b>voter registration campaigns</b>. They included the <b>Rev. James M. Lawson Jr.</b>, who was one of the nation’s most prominent scholars of <b>civil disobedience</b> and who led workshops on Gandhi and <b>nonviolence</b>. He mentored a generation of civil rights organizers, including Mr. Lewis.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Mr. Lewis</b>, right, and a fellow student demonstrator, <b>James Bevel</b>, stood inside the door of a <b><span style="color: orange;">Nashville restaurant</span></b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">1960</span></b> during a <b><span style="color: orange;">sit-in</span></b> to protest the establishment&rsquo;s <b><span style="color: orange;">refusal to serve</span></b> <b>Black people</b>.<br />
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Mr. Lewis’s <b><span style="color: orange;">first arrest</span></b> came in <b>February 1960</b>, when he and other students <b>demanded service</b> at <b><span style="color: orange;">whites-only</span></b> <b>lunch counters</b> in Nashville. It was the first prolonged battle of the movement that evolved into the <b>Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee</b>.</span></div>
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David Halberstam, then a reporter for The Nashville Tennessean, later described the scene: “The protests had been conducted with <b>exceptional dignity</b>, and gradually one image had come to prevail — that of elegant, courteous young Black people, holding to their Gandhian principles, seeking the most elemental of rights, while being <b>assaulted</b> by <b>young white hoodlums</b> who beat them up and on occasion <b>extinguished cigarettes on their bodies</b>.”</span></div>
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In three months, after repeated well-publicized <b><span style="color: orange;">sit-ins</span></b>, the city’s political and business communities <b><span style="color: orange;">gave in</span></b> to the pressure, and <b>Nashville</b> became the <b>first major Southern city</b> to begin <b><span style="color: orange;">desegregating </span>public facilities</b>.</span></div>
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But Mr. Lewis lost his family’s good will. When his parents learned that he had been arrested in Nashville, he wrote, they were ashamed. They had taught him as a child to accept the world as he found it. When he asked them about signs saying “Colored Only,” they told him, “That’s the way it is, don’t get in trouble.”</span></div>
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But as an adult, he said, after he met Dr. King and <b><span style="color: orange;">Rosa Parks</span></b>, whose refusal to give up her bus seat to a white man was a <b>flash point</b> for the <b>civil rights movement</b>, he was inspired to “get into trouble, good trouble, necessary trouble.”</span></div>
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Getting into “good trouble” became his motto for life. A documentary film, “John Lewis: Good Trouble,” was released this month.</span></div>
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Despite the disgrace he had brought on his family, he felt that he had been “involved in a holy crusade” and that <b>getting arrested</b> had been “a <b>badge of honor</b>,” he said in a 1979 oral history interview housed at Washington University in St. Louis.</span></div>
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In <b><span style="color: orange;">1961</span></b>, when he <b>graduated</b> from the <b>seminary</b>, he joined a Freedom Ride organized by the <b>Congress of Racial Equality</b>, known as CORE. He and others were beaten bloody when they tried to enter a <b>whites-only waiting room</b> at the bus station in <b><span style="color: orange;">Rock Hill, S.C.</span></b> Later, he was jailed in <b>Birmingham</b>, Ala., and beaten again in Montgomery, where several others were badly injured and one was paralyzed for life.</span></div>
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“If there was anything I learned on that long, bloody <b>bus trip</b> of <b>1961</b>,” he wrote in his memoir, “it was this — that we were in for a long, bloody fight here in the <b>American South</b>. And I intended to stay in the middle of it.”</span></div>
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At the same time, a <b>schism</b> in the movement was opening between those who wanted to express their rage and fight back and those who believed in pressing on with <b>nonviolence</b>. Mr. Lewis chose nonviolence.</span></div>
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Overridden by ‘Black Power’<br />
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But by the time of the <b>urban race riots</b> of the 1960s, particularly in the <b><span style="color: orange;">Watts</span></b> section of Los Angeles in <b><span style="color: orange;">1965</span></b>, many Black people had <b>rejected nonviolence</b> in favor of <b><span style="color: orange;">direct confrontation</span></b>. Mr. Lewis was ousted as chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee in 1966 and <b>replaced</b> by the fiery <b><span style="color: orange;">Stokely Carmichael</span></b>, who popularized the phrase “<b>Black power</b>.”</span></div>
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Mr. Lewis spent a few years out of the limelight. He headed the <b>Voter Education Project</b>, registering voters, and finished his <b>bachelor’s degree</b> in religion and philosophy at Fisk University in Nashville in <b><span style="color: orange;">1967</span></b>.</span></div>
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During this period he met Lillian Miles, a librarian, teacher and former Peace Corps volunteer. She was outgoing and political and could quote Dr. King’s speeches verbatim. They were <b>married</b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">1968</span></b>, and she became one of his closest political advisers.</span></div>
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She died in 2012. Mr. Lewis’s survivors include several siblings and his son, John-Miles Lewis.</span></div>
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Mr. Lewis made his first attempt at <b>running for office</b> in <b><span style="color: orange;">1977</span></b>, an <b>unsuccessful bid</b> for Congress. He won a seat on the <b>Atlanta City Council</b> in <b>1981</b>, and in 1986 he ran again for the House. It was a bitter race that pitted against each other two civil rights figures, Mr. Lewis and Julian Bond, a friend and former close associate of his in the movement. The charismatic Mr. Bond, more articulate and polished than Mr. Lewis, was the perceived favorite.</span></div>
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“I want you to think about sending a workhorse to Washington, and not a show horse,” Mr. Lewis said during a debate. “I want you to think about sending a tugboat and not a showboat.”</span></div>
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Mr. Lewis won in an upset, with 52%t of the vote. His support came from Atlanta’s white precincts and from working-class and poor Black voters who felt more comfortable with him than with Mr. Bond, though Mr. Bond won the majority of Black voters.</span></div>
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Not surprisingly, Mr. Lewis’s long congressional career was marked by protests. He was arrested in Washington several times, including outside the South African Embassy for demonstrating against apartheid and at Sudan’s Embassy while protesting genocide in Darfur.</span></div>
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In 2010 he supported Mr. Obama’s health care bill, a divisive measure that drew angry protesters, including many from the <b>right-wing Tea Party</b>, to the Capitol. Some demonstrators shouted obscenities and racial slurs at Mr. Lewis and other members of the Congressional Black Caucus.</span></div>
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“They were shouting, sort of harassing,” Mr. Lewis told reporters at the time. “But it’s OK. I’ve faced this before.”</span></div>
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In 2016, after a massacre at an Orlando, Fla., nightclub left 49 people dead, he led a sit-in on the House floor to protest federal inaction on gun control. The demonstration drew the support of 170 lawmakers, but Republicans dismissed it as a publicity stunt and squelched any legislative action.</span></div>
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Through it all, the events of <b>Bloody Sunday</b> were never far from his mind, and every year Mr. Lewis traveled to Selma to commemorate its anniversary. Over time, he watched attitudes change. At the ceremony in 1998, Joseph T. Smitherman, who had been Selma’s segregationist mayor in 1965 and was still mayor — though a repentant one — gave Mr. Lewis a key to the city.</span></div>
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“Back then, I called him an outside <b>rabble-rouser</b>,” Mr. Smitherman said of Mr. Lewis. “Today, I call him one of the most courageous people I ever met.”</span></div>
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Mr. Lewis was a popular speaker at <b>college commencements</b> and always offered the same advice — that the graduates get into “good trouble,” as he had done against his parents’ wishes.</span></div>
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He put it this way on Twitter in 2018: “Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month, or a year, it is the struggle of a lifetime. Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.”<br />
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MLK being arrested.<br />
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Lewis as a newly elected Congressman in <b><span style="color: orange;">1987</span></b>, seen here on Capitol Hill with Senator <b>Wyche Fowler</b>.<br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><b>John Lewis</b> and <b>Amelia Boynton Robinson</b> (in wheelchair), hold hands with <b>Barack Obama</b> and <b>Michelle Obama</b> on the <b><span style="color: orange;">50th anniversary</span></b> of the <b><span style="color: orange;">Bloody Sunday march</span></b> across the <b>Edmund Pettus Bridge</b> in Alabama, <b><span style="color: orange;">2015</span></b>. Both Lewis and Boynton Robinson were <b><span style="color: orange;">badly beaten</span></b> that day.<br />
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<b>Rep. John Lewis, Civil Rights icon, dies at age 80</b><br />
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The Georgia Democrat who helped organize the March on Washington and was called the "conscience of Congress," has died.<br />
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By Sanjana Karanth, HuffPost US<br />
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Rep. John Lewis, the legendary civil rights leader who helped organize the March on Washington and was later known as the “conscience of Congress,” died Friday, <b>17 June 2020</b>, at age 80.<br />
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The Georgia Democrat announced in December 2019 that he had been diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.<br />
“I have been in some kind of fight ― for freedom, equality, basic human rights ― for nearly my entire life,” Lewis said in a statement at the time. “I have never faced a fight quite like the one I have now.”<br />
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Lewis has been on the front lines of the fight for democracy for most of his life.<br />
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Born on 21st February 1940, to sharecroppers outside of Troy, Alabama, Lewis grew up attending segregated public schools. After watching the activism that sparked the Montgomery bus boycott and hearing the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s words on the radio, Lewis was inspired to join the civil rights movement and fought for voting rights ever since.<br />
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As a college student attending Fisk University, Lewis helped organize peaceful sit-in protests at segregated lunch counters in Nashville, Tennessee. At age 21, he volunteered to be a Freedom Rider — one of the activists who risked their lives challenging segregation throughout the South by sitting in seats reserved for white people. The protest was inspired by Rosa Parks, who refused to give up her bus seat for a white man in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1955.<br />
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Lewis helped found the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee and became its chairman during the peak of the civil rights movement from 1963 to 1966. Lewis organized student activism in the movement through SNCC and was eventually considered one of the “Big Six” leaders of the civil rights movement, alongside King.<br />
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At 23, Lewis was one of the organizers of and the youngest keynote speaker at the March on Washington in August 1963. He helped launch voter registration drives during the Mississippi Freedom Summer in 1964, yet another example of his determination to bring voting rights to Black people.<br />
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Lewis often faced violent consequences for his civil rights leadership. He was repeatedly arrested and beaten by police and angry mobs for challenging Jim Crow segregation in the South and fighting for voting rights.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0tCRsLDwzbzNc-gpgpj4FmZhoEYqHRJ0b9Q6GITQETGt0CMa3NMPKb5ejLH09R5tkDsPnGhFTSUJRvry-JelbEksGsVp5aN69sPHXM4waABKti6ln9P8vAAeRCF-b9QybzHqmNKNoLbi0/s1600/merlin_166560165_9904ae50-e859-46cc-8c1b-892d204bbb17-jumbo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0tCRsLDwzbzNc-gpgpj4FmZhoEYqHRJ0b9Q6GITQETGt0CMa3NMPKb5ejLH09R5tkDsPnGhFTSUJRvry-JelbEksGsVp5aN69sPHXM4waABKti6ln9P8vAAeRCF-b9QybzHqmNKNoLbi0/s640/merlin_166560165_9904ae50-e859-46cc-8c1b-892d204bbb17-jumbo.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTG4WUJzInIAOQsINvWL-cN8_MHZm8WjHLkCwzTyBm9DIN3YMwyZODu2pU-O_rL9esCdzx1AtDioSFX_p7__ai_pdvUUy-aEKX51duEwW-d2zOGk-u_z7cCcOtRnV9KzAVH-o1QQj9Pxu/s1961/Poitier_Belafonte_Heston_Civil_Rights_March_1963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1961" data-original-width="1384" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTG4WUJzInIAOQsINvWL-cN8_MHZm8WjHLkCwzTyBm9DIN3YMwyZODu2pU-O_rL9esCdzx1AtDioSFX_p7__ai_pdvUUy-aEKX51duEwW-d2zOGk-u_z7cCcOtRnV9KzAVH-o1QQj9Pxu/w452-h640/Poitier_Belafonte_Heston_Civil_Rights_March_1963.jpg" width="452" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte & Charlton Heston at Washington's Civil Rights March in 1963.</span></div>
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Luiz Amorimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05334561268547790557noreply@blogger.com0