As Leroy was reminiscing, sitting in that black and white chair in his living room he got that faraway look in his eyes. I knew he was visiting a special memory. Then he told me this little story.
I quit Ray’s band just to prove to myself that I could survive musically. While I was out of the band I played with the Righteous Brothers.
Glen Campbell was on the show. He was from Arkansas. Those guys didn’t even pay attention to him. He played so good we used to have him in the dressing room playing. He liked to play harmony with everything we played. That sucker would put his foot up in the locker room up on the place where he was sitting and be playing some impossible stuff on the guitar. He’s a great guitar player! Oh, he’d be eating that guitar up! Ooh, that sucker could play the guitar. He’d get wrapped up in it and start sweating.
After we were done he’d be heading to the bar.
He used to say “Anybody want to go with me?”
“We don’t want to listen to no more corny jokes.” Everyone said.
I said, “I’ll go with you.” I’d go up there and he’d be talking this Arkansas stuff.
After awhile I’d say, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I’d go straight up to my room and wouldn't go back down. Then Glen messed around and got a hit and I didn’t see him again.
Glen was tight with Ray Charles and he used to be on Ray’s records for free, just to play with him. I was in the middle of this tight group and didn’t realize it.
When I was with the Righteous Bros it was Hatfield, the blond who sang real high and a replacement for Medley. When I left, Medley came back. I had met him before I was with the group. He was the bad boy. He used to come to Ray’s gigs.
Guys said, “Bill you’re selling all those records. You could at least buy us all a drink.”
Bill would say, "Come on over to my car" and then he’d give ‘em a beer.
They said, “Man you’re tight.”
He said, “I gave you a beer didn’t I?”
After I proved my point to myself I went back to Ray. You know, you owe it to yourself to see if you could survive on your own.
Copyright © 2012 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Showing posts with label Leroy 'Hog' Cooper. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leroy 'Hog' Cooper. Show all posts
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Monday, January 31, 2011
Ray Charles - Traveling in the South
Through The South
By Susan Cross
This is an excerpt from Leroy Cooper's memoir as told to me back in 2007. The material is copyrighted by Susan Cross and cannot be copied, published or duplicated without permission.
Traveling in the South
Ft. Lauderdale, Florida
There was a Jewish boy in Ray’s band when we were going through all of this named Donald Peake. I didn’t know anything about his religious background. There were about two or three white boys in Ray’s band during these critical times. I took it upon myself to try to be a protector of Peake’s down south and in Florida. Guys were selling Muhammad Speaks, it was the Muslim newspaper, and when they would see him with us, they’d have a circle on him; they were getting ready to do something. I’d come in the circle and say, “Man, he’s with us,” and blah, blah, blah. He’d be terrified, you know, and who wouldn’t? Having all these crazy people around you.
Miami, Florida
When we used to work in Miami, we couldn’t even stay on the beach. We had to stay up in Hollywood and travel down to the job. Ray was the only one who could stay down there. But we had a good old time and accepted how things were. One of our girls, one of our Raelets had bought some snake boots over in Germany. She paid about 700 or 800 dollars for these fabulous snake boots that come up to her knees. She had on a fur stole and all that and we were off in Miami. She went in the bar next door to the motel where we were living and the cops took her for prostitution. Ray had to go get her out of jail. She was just sitting at the bar having a drink and she told ‘em she was with the band but they didn’t believe her.
Things are better now. The hip hoppers can wear those snake boots and they’re all over Miami. Can you imagine putting one of them in jail? They can buy the jail.
Birmingham, Alabama
Ray started going to towns like Yazoo, Mississippi and Birmingham, Alabama. That was frightening. Back in the day, we were in the bus station and I had to be in the black part of the bus station. I was shooting the pinball machine.
This big cop came over with a fat stomach, a regular cop, and he asked the guy, “What do that big one do?”
“Oh, he’s a saxophone player.”
He said, “Can he blow it? Is he good?” In other words, he just wanted to have some kind of confrontation with me. And I kept ignoring him.
It got so bad when we’d play a gig they’d say, “No drinking in this dressing room. And if we catch one of you drinking in the dressing room you’re all going to jail. Everybody was calling home on the public phone out there. “Don’t stay too long on that phone.” Picky, picky, picky, picky, picky. To me, Birmingham was the worst place in the world.
Nat King Cole was from Birmingham and I read that they had him going through the back door in the auditorium. Well with Ray, when our bus came in, they had us pull around to the back and we had to go in the back door.
When we went to Mobile, Alabama they wouldn’t even let us in the arena unless we got rid of everybody we had white in the band. So the road manager told him we don’t have any whites, we have near whites. So the cops accepted that. The girls put powder on [Don] Peake, brown powder and he was scared that night. They made all the white patrons leave and we had to play to the black audience. The white people stayed outside the arena so they could wave to us when we left.
Things changed. Joe Namath, when he got popular years later opened up a club in Birmingham. We played the circuit in the south with Joe Namath. We went to his club and they had us in the biggest hotel downtown. I forget the name of it, and they had a massage parlor on the mezzanine. The manager of the hotel was telling the band, “You had your back rubbed?”
I said, “Wait a minute; that’s not for us.”
“Oh yes, they’ve got some nice girls up there.”
“This is not Birmingham. Time’s have really changed,” I thought.
We played the Bachelor’s Club in Ft. Lauderdale and we were treated royally everywhere and I said it can’t be the same south; it can’t be the same place.
By Susan Cross
This is an excerpt from Leroy Cooper's memoir as told to me back in 2007. The material is copyrighted by Susan Cross and cannot be copied, published or duplicated without permission.
Traveling in the South
Ft. Lauderdale, Florida
There was a Jewish boy in Ray’s band when we were going through all of this named Donald Peake. I didn’t know anything about his religious background. There were about two or three white boys in Ray’s band during these critical times. I took it upon myself to try to be a protector of Peake’s down south and in Florida. Guys were selling Muhammad Speaks, it was the Muslim newspaper, and when they would see him with us, they’d have a circle on him; they were getting ready to do something. I’d come in the circle and say, “Man, he’s with us,” and blah, blah, blah. He’d be terrified, you know, and who wouldn’t? Having all these crazy people around you.
Miami, Florida
When we used to work in Miami, we couldn’t even stay on the beach. We had to stay up in Hollywood and travel down to the job. Ray was the only one who could stay down there. But we had a good old time and accepted how things were. One of our girls, one of our Raelets had bought some snake boots over in Germany. She paid about 700 or 800 dollars for these fabulous snake boots that come up to her knees. She had on a fur stole and all that and we were off in Miami. She went in the bar next door to the motel where we were living and the cops took her for prostitution. Ray had to go get her out of jail. She was just sitting at the bar having a drink and she told ‘em she was with the band but they didn’t believe her.
Things are better now. The hip hoppers can wear those snake boots and they’re all over Miami. Can you imagine putting one of them in jail? They can buy the jail.
Birmingham, Alabama
Ray started going to towns like Yazoo, Mississippi and Birmingham, Alabama. That was frightening. Back in the day, we were in the bus station and I had to be in the black part of the bus station. I was shooting the pinball machine.
This big cop came over with a fat stomach, a regular cop, and he asked the guy, “What do that big one do?”
“Oh, he’s a saxophone player.”
He said, “Can he blow it? Is he good?” In other words, he just wanted to have some kind of confrontation with me. And I kept ignoring him.
It got so bad when we’d play a gig they’d say, “No drinking in this dressing room. And if we catch one of you drinking in the dressing room you’re all going to jail. Everybody was calling home on the public phone out there. “Don’t stay too long on that phone.” Picky, picky, picky, picky, picky. To me, Birmingham was the worst place in the world.
Nat King Cole was from Birmingham and I read that they had him going through the back door in the auditorium. Well with Ray, when our bus came in, they had us pull around to the back and we had to go in the back door.
When we went to Mobile, Alabama they wouldn’t even let us in the arena unless we got rid of everybody we had white in the band. So the road manager told him we don’t have any whites, we have near whites. So the cops accepted that. The girls put powder on [Don] Peake, brown powder and he was scared that night. They made all the white patrons leave and we had to play to the black audience. The white people stayed outside the arena so they could wave to us when we left.
Things changed. Joe Namath, when he got popular years later opened up a club in Birmingham. We played the circuit in the south with Joe Namath. We went to his club and they had us in the biggest hotel downtown. I forget the name of it, and they had a massage parlor on the mezzanine. The manager of the hotel was telling the band, “You had your back rubbed?”
I said, “Wait a minute; that’s not for us.”
“Oh yes, they’ve got some nice girls up there.”
“This is not Birmingham. Time’s have really changed,” I thought.
We played the Bachelor’s Club in Ft. Lauderdale and we were treated royally everywhere and I said it can’t be the same south; it can’t be the same place.
Copyright © 2011 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Monday, November 8, 2010
Leroy Cooper leaves Ray Charles - the 1st time
Hit The Road, Jack
By Susan Cross
During one of our interview sessions, Leroy Cooper told me a story about why he left the small Ray Charles band the first time. Leroy remembered clearly how his feelings were hurt. Just as clearly, he remember his friend, Marcus Belgrave, coming to his rescue. Leroy and Marcus had known each other before they were in Ray's band together, but that's another story. This story speaks for itself and the fact that he remembers the kindness of his friend over 50 years later gives some insight into Leroy's humility and love for his friends.
Let me have a loan ‘til payday, I said to Jeff Brown, Ray’s first road manager. Payday was the next day. I had just spent every penny I had on a bus from Dallas to Chicago to rejoin the band.
“I’m sorry, Cooper, I don’t have any money,” he said.
I couldn’t believe it! I said to myself, what am I going to do? A country boy in the big city. I went to Woolworth’s and bought me a jack size bag of popcorn; I ate popcorn and I drank ice water to survive.
We were down in the band room in the theater after I’d asked for a loan and he said he didn’t have anything, he came downstairs and told the straw boss in the band, “I don’t like the neckties the guys in the band are wearing.”
There was a little shopping center up there and he said, “Go buy some kind of neckties that I like.” I was looking in another direction and he put his hand in his pocket and came out with a Philadelphia roll. That really made me feel bad. I said, Wow, he didn’t have any money and he brought out a roll like that.
“What kind of ties should I get?” He said, “I don’t care.”
The trumpet player, Marcus Belgrave [right] saw me and he said, “You don’t have no money do you?” I said no. So he straightened me out until payday. But I said to myself once I get back to Dallas, I won’t worry about leaving home anymore. That was the first time I was out of the band for a year and it was because of Jeff Brown. He used to not treat me too nice when I was first in the band. I was sensitive.
Here was this man, the road manager, having money in his pocket and not letting me have enough to survive. That’s when I said, when I get back to Texas I’ll be staying there, (I didn’t tell them that) and that’s what I did.
Ray was living in Dallas back then. When they got me back to Dallas, I was home. When they got ready to go back out I said I’m not going, man. They traveled by car in those days. I lived out by the airport in Dallas. Ray came out to my house.
“What’s wrong? How come you’re not going?” he asked me after we had returned to Dallas from Chicago. I had decided I would never tell him that I was upset about what happened in Chicago.
By Susan Cross
During one of our interview sessions, Leroy Cooper told me a story about why he left the small Ray Charles band the first time. Leroy remembered clearly how his feelings were hurt. Just as clearly, he remember his friend, Marcus Belgrave, coming to his rescue. Leroy and Marcus had known each other before they were in Ray's band together, but that's another story. This story speaks for itself and the fact that he remembers the kindness of his friend over 50 years later gives some insight into Leroy's humility and love for his friends.
*****
Ray’s band was in Chicago and I went to Dallas on a break. Our next gig was in Chicago at the Regal Theater. I had to pay everything I had in my pocket for cab fare from the bus station to the south side. I didn’t realize that Chicago was that big. It left me with about two or three bucks in my pocket. I went to see the road manager.Let me have a loan ‘til payday, I said to Jeff Brown, Ray’s first road manager. Payday was the next day. I had just spent every penny I had on a bus from Dallas to Chicago to rejoin the band.
“I’m sorry, Cooper, I don’t have any money,” he said.
I couldn’t believe it! I said to myself, what am I going to do? A country boy in the big city. I went to Woolworth’s and bought me a jack size bag of popcorn; I ate popcorn and I drank ice water to survive.
We were down in the band room in the theater after I’d asked for a loan and he said he didn’t have anything, he came downstairs and told the straw boss in the band, “I don’t like the neckties the guys in the band are wearing.”
There was a little shopping center up there and he said, “Go buy some kind of neckties that I like.” I was looking in another direction and he put his hand in his pocket and came out with a Philadelphia roll. That really made me feel bad. I said, Wow, he didn’t have any money and he brought out a roll like that.
“What kind of ties should I get?” He said, “I don’t care.”
 |
| Marcus Belgrave |
The trumpet player, Marcus Belgrave [right] saw me and he said, “You don’t have no money do you?” I said no. So he straightened me out until payday. But I said to myself once I get back to Dallas, I won’t worry about leaving home anymore. That was the first time I was out of the band for a year and it was because of Jeff Brown. He used to not treat me too nice when I was first in the band. I was sensitive.
Here was this man, the road manager, having money in his pocket and not letting me have enough to survive. That’s when I said, when I get back to Texas I’ll be staying there, (I didn’t tell them that) and that’s what I did.
Ray was living in Dallas back then. When they got me back to Dallas, I was home. When they got ready to go back out I said I’m not going, man. They traveled by car in those days. I lived out by the airport in Dallas. Ray came out to my house.
“What’s wrong? How come you’re not going?” he asked me after we had returned to Dallas from Chicago. I had decided I would never tell him that I was upset about what happened in Chicago.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Monday, November 1, 2010
Interview with David 'Fathead' Newman
Let's Talk A Bit
By Susan Cross
During the many afternoons I spent with Leroy Hog Cooper he talked about so many of his friends. Some of these people were relatively new friends, people he knew during his 20 year stint at Disney World playing in the Dixieland band, the jazz band and at private functions held in the park and hotels on property. Others were people he met after he retired and became more involved in the local jazz, blues and society bands that filled up his calendar and kept his lips on the mouthpiece of his various horns.
However, in the beginning of our time together, Leroy spoke mostly about his old friends. The ones he knew growing up. The ones that he played with in the school band. And the ones he played with in clubs. Probably the most important one of these was a fellow who was a couple of years younger than Leroy that he knew in school. They both played saxophone. And eventually, this friend would be the one that changed Leroy's life forever. His name was David Newman, also known as Fathead.
Here is the transcript of a telephone interview I did with David on April 23, 2007. Unfortunately, at that time I didn't have enough information to ask more relevant questions and my interview was mostly targeted at his relationship with Leroy. David was soft-spoken, warm, friendly and expressed his love for Leroy, just as Leroy had expressed his love for David.
Susan Cross: How long were you with Ray Charles?
David Newman: From September 1954 to 1964; 10 years. Then I went back in 1970 to 1971, so altogether 11 years.
Susan Cross: What was your relationship with Leroy?
David Newman: We were very good friends and colleagues. We go back a long way. Growing up in Dallas, I was a few years behind Leroy in school, being younger than he was. We got to know each other when we both had the same band director at Lincoln High school, Mr. Miller.
Susan Cross: Was that Uncle Dud?
David Newman: Yes. That was his nickname. I lost touch with Leroy when he went to college and then into the Army. When he got out and came back to Dallas, we got back together.
Leroy joined the Ernie Fields big band and was playing the baritone sax by then. He had started on the alto, but he was such a big man he was blowing the buttons off of it, not literally, but figuratively. The baritone was very fitting for him being the big guy that he was.
Susan Cross: How did Leroy join Ray’s band?
David Newman: Ray’s band needed a baritone sax and knowing Leroy, I recommended bringing him into the band. Later on, I also got James Clay to join.
When Leroy joined, it was a small band. It became a big band in 1960.
The movie, Ray, was inaccurate and so unfortunate.
Susan Cross: When did you start playing the sax?
David Newman: When I was about 8 or 9.
Susan Cross: Was it your first instrument?
David Newman: No. My mother had me taking piano lessons for about 2 years and the other kids were calling me a sissy. So I told my mother that I wanted to play a more masculine instrument. She asked me, like what? I said, I don’t know. A horn, maybe, a saxophone. So I started taking lessons on the alto sax which was the second smallest, soprano being the smallest. Mr. Miller gave me lessons.
In our youth, there was a place called the American Woodlands Hall. All the musicians would go there and jam and get to know each other. That went on for years.
Leroy’s dad was a fine musician. I never heard him play, but Buster Smith was my (and Leroy’s) main influence growing up, and he knew Leroy’s dad and said he was a fine musician.
Susan Cross: Who are your favorite sax players today?
David Newman: James Moody, Jimmy Heath, Benny Golson, Eric Alexander, Javon Jackson.
At the end of the conversation, David told me to feel free to call any time if I had more questions. Unfortunately I did not make a second call. David died less than 2 weeks after Leroy in January 2009. Their music lives on. You can learn more about David 'Fathead' Newman click here.
By Susan Cross
However, in the beginning of our time together, Leroy spoke mostly about his old friends. The ones he knew growing up. The ones that he played with in the school band. And the ones he played with in clubs. Probably the most important one of these was a fellow who was a couple of years younger than Leroy that he knew in school. They both played saxophone. And eventually, this friend would be the one that changed Leroy's life forever. His name was David Newman, also known as Fathead.
Here is the transcript of a telephone interview I did with David on April 23, 2007. Unfortunately, at that time I didn't have enough information to ask more relevant questions and my interview was mostly targeted at his relationship with Leroy. David was soft-spoken, warm, friendly and expressed his love for Leroy, just as Leroy had expressed his love for David.
Susan Cross: How long were you with Ray Charles?
David Newman: From September 1954 to 1964; 10 years. Then I went back in 1970 to 1971, so altogether 11 years.
Susan Cross: What was your relationship with Leroy?
David Newman: We were very good friends and colleagues. We go back a long way. Growing up in Dallas, I was a few years behind Leroy in school, being younger than he was. We got to know each other when we both had the same band director at Lincoln High school, Mr. Miller.
Susan Cross: Was that Uncle Dud?
David Newman: Yes. That was his nickname. I lost touch with Leroy when he went to college and then into the Army. When he got out and came back to Dallas, we got back together.
Leroy joined the Ernie Fields big band and was playing the baritone sax by then. He had started on the alto, but he was such a big man he was blowing the buttons off of it, not literally, but figuratively. The baritone was very fitting for him being the big guy that he was.
Susan Cross: How did Leroy join Ray’s band?
David Newman: Ray’s band needed a baritone sax and knowing Leroy, I recommended bringing him into the band. Later on, I also got James Clay to join.
When Leroy joined, it was a small band. It became a big band in 1960.
The movie, Ray, was inaccurate and so unfortunate.
Susan Cross: When did you start playing the sax?
David Newman: When I was about 8 or 9.
Susan Cross: Was it your first instrument?
David Newman: No. My mother had me taking piano lessons for about 2 years and the other kids were calling me a sissy. So I told my mother that I wanted to play a more masculine instrument. She asked me, like what? I said, I don’t know. A horn, maybe, a saxophone. So I started taking lessons on the alto sax which was the second smallest, soprano being the smallest. Mr. Miller gave me lessons.
In our youth, there was a place called the American Woodlands Hall. All the musicians would go there and jam and get to know each other. That went on for years.
Leroy’s dad was a fine musician. I never heard him play, but Buster Smith was my (and Leroy’s) main influence growing up, and he knew Leroy’s dad and said he was a fine musician.
Susan Cross: Who are your favorite sax players today?
David Newman: James Moody, Jimmy Heath, Benny Golson, Eric Alexander, Javon Jackson.
At the end of the conversation, David told me to feel free to call any time if I had more questions. Unfortunately I did not make a second call. David died less than 2 weeks after Leroy in January 2009. Their music lives on. You can learn more about David 'Fathead' Newman click here.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Leroy Cooper - One Man Band - in his own words
Saving Music History
By Susan Cross
If the title doesn't show at first, refresh the page to listen.
You can hear Joe Adams introduce him. The man with the very large Afro hairstyle playing keyboards when Ray comes out is the magnificent Ernest Vantrease, a.k.a. The Deacon. Ernest was with Ray for about 30 years and now plays keyboards for B.B. King.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
By Susan Cross
This is an excerpt from Leroy Cooper's memoir as told to me back in 2007. The material is copyrighted by Susan Cross and cannot be copied, published or duplicated without permission.
Copyright Charles Wells Photography
If the title doesn't show at first, refresh the page to listen.
Leroy Cooper had a wonderful life. His musical accomplishments include about 20 years as baritone sax player and bandleader for Ray Charles.
In addition, he was a great story teller. I had the great honor of sitting wth him and listening to him recount his tales. Here is a little clip about how his interest in music first developed.
To see Leroy back in 1975 leading the Ray Charles Orchestra, click here:
You can hear Joe Adams introduce him. The man with the very large Afro hairstyle playing keyboards when Ray comes out is the magnificent Ernest Vantrease, a.k.a. The Deacon. Ernest was with Ray for about 30 years and now plays keyboards for B.B. King.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Agent->Publisher->Self publisher->E-publisher
About a year ago I was polishing off my manuscript. I had made a deal with a small self-publishing house with years of experience and an excellent reputation. Friends with agents and professional editors who had been published by major publishing companies warned me: "Don't do it! Self publishing is the death knell of a successful writing career. Once you're self published," they said, "you will never be taken seriously in the industry."
Since my book was a memoir of Leroy 'Hog' Cooper, bandleader and baritone saxophone player for Ray Charles, I knew that it would only appeal to a niche audience. My market was limited and the likelihood that an agent or major publisher would be interested was miniscule. I had no writing career to ruin so I was going forward with the project as a labor of love. I would probably print only 1,000 copies and be happy to sell those.
I repeat, that was about a year ago. My manuscript was due at the publisher's on September 1. The wheels were in motion (I hate cliches), I had a professional cover design, had used an editor who was a friend and the book release party had been scheduled to take place at B.B. King's Orlando Blues Club. Over 300 people had RSVP'd and I had 3 bands scheduled to play in Leroy's honor for free. And then someone put the breaks on and the wheels came to a screeching halt. Since then, needless to say, the book did not get published. due to legal issues with the verbal contract (boy was I stupid--verbal contract with a 78 year old man whom I loved, expecting his word to follow after his death).
Back to the point. By the end of the year, self-publishing was becoming so popular that the NY publishers were starting their own imprints for writers without agents to take advantage of the market. Why lose out on their cut? If we were going to publish our books anyway, they wanted in on the action. Ah, but perhaps they were too late.
The fire behind Kindle had already started burning soon to be followed by Sony's e-reader and Nook and others. E-publishing became the new way medium. People can download books by Pulitzer Prize winning authors as well as those with niche markets for a relatively small amount of money. For a few bucks you might find a book that an agent would never have paid attention to but SHOULD have.
Let me recap. One year ago I was told that self-publishing was the worst thing a new author could do. Then I was told it was the best way for me to get my book published as long as I was willing to market it, which I would have to do even if an agent sold it to a publisher.
And then came e-publishing. Could it be that the green movement got to somebody high up in the government and convinced whichever czar is in charge of such things that printing books was destructive to our planet? To create books you have to cut down trees, create inky chemicals and glues. Surely this is bad for the environment. And so the story goes, like so many others, technology has solved another problem and will save the baby seals near the polar ice caps.
Gee, I wonder how many forests were leveled to print Al's book. Hmmm. Al, how could you? His publisher printed and sold a whole lot more than mine would have. What an 'inconvenient truth.'
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Meeting Leroy Cooper - memoir of conversations
We Should Write A Book
By Susan Cross
The great philosopher Yogi Berra once said, "If you come to a fork in the road take it." I had come to that fork. I have written a book that is near completion was not taking the right course. I had almost decided to ditch the book and close my business. I make a decent living writing articles and I thought that maybe I should stick to that for now.
Last week I had an epiphany. I saw my friend, Ernest Vantrease, keyboard player for B.B. King. The band was in town for a show. After visiting with Ernie and feeling the strong bond we share I considred our history and how we got to know each other. When I traced my steps back to our meeting I realized that I was taking the wrong approach to the book. My original plan had been to write Leroy Cooper's memoir. In fact, that project took on a life of its own during the 2-1/2 years that I worked with Leroy. I met many people who knew him, did interviews with a variety of people, many of whom played with Ray Charles when Leroy was his bandleader, and even had one of them visit and stay in my home in order to attend Leroy's funeral.
After seeing Ernie I realized that what I should be writing is my brief memoir describing the experiences since I met Leroy Cooper and how that first meeting led me to where I am today. Of course, Leroy's stories are a large part of my story but each one took me in a direction that I chose to pursue in tracking down old friends of his and forming some new relationships. And therein lies the story.
I have a new plan and will follow this path right up until the present. I have heard the expression, "Write about what you know." Well, there is nothing I know better than my own experiences told from my point of view. I was never intended to be a ghost writer on the project and I am not a ghost. I am a writer and have decided to start from the beginning, about 3 years ago and bring it forward.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
By Susan Cross
The great philosopher Yogi Berra once said, "If you come to a fork in the road take it." I had come to that fork. I have written a book that is near completion was not taking the right course. I had almost decided to ditch the book and close my business. I make a decent living writing articles and I thought that maybe I should stick to that for now.
Last week I had an epiphany. I saw my friend, Ernest Vantrease, keyboard player for B.B. King. The band was in town for a show. After visiting with Ernie and feeling the strong bond we share I considred our history and how we got to know each other. When I traced my steps back to our meeting I realized that I was taking the wrong approach to the book. My original plan had been to write Leroy Cooper's memoir. In fact, that project took on a life of its own during the 2-1/2 years that I worked with Leroy. I met many people who knew him, did interviews with a variety of people, many of whom played with Ray Charles when Leroy was his bandleader, and even had one of them visit and stay in my home in order to attend Leroy's funeral.
After seeing Ernie I realized that what I should be writing is my brief memoir describing the experiences since I met Leroy Cooper and how that first meeting led me to where I am today. Of course, Leroy's stories are a large part of my story but each one took me in a direction that I chose to pursue in tracking down old friends of his and forming some new relationships. And therein lies the story.
I have a new plan and will follow this path right up until the present. I have heard the expression, "Write about what you know." Well, there is nothing I know better than my own experiences told from my point of view. I was never intended to be a ghost writer on the project and I am not a ghost. I am a writer and have decided to start from the beginning, about 3 years ago and bring it forward.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Leroy Hog Cooper on Sax - excerpt from his college years
It was a beautiful school, Huston-Tillotson. The band would play and the choir would sing and the president of the college would beg us to play The Bells of Saint Mary and it would make him cry.
“In the early years, our forefathers got together to bring this institution about to lift the ban of ignorance…” he would say. I still remember that.
People like Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole and Adam Clayton Powell used to come to the school. Every Wednesday night we had a celebrity speaker. They were so happy to see a bunch of kids trying to get educated. I enjoyed it. I played in the school band three years. I was the lead alto player which was a big deal. We had to try out for the school band like a football player. You earned a scholarship. I didn’t have to pay for nothing but books. Everything else was a freebee, food, dormitory.
Every time the Nat King Cole Trio would come through to play, our band would play the opening for them and then the Nat King Cole trio would play. All those bands would come through there and we would see those musicians dressed in those latest styles.
“In the early years, our forefathers got together to bring this institution about to lift the ban of ignorance…” he would say. I still remember that.
People like Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole and Adam Clayton Powell used to come to the school. Every Wednesday night we had a celebrity speaker. They were so happy to see a bunch of kids trying to get educated. I enjoyed it. I played in the school band three years. I was the lead alto player which was a big deal. We had to try out for the school band like a football player. You earned a scholarship. I didn’t have to pay for nothing but books. Everything else was a freebee, food, dormitory.
Every time the Nat King Cole Trio would come through to play, our band would play the opening for them and then the Nat King Cole trio would play. All those bands would come through there and we would see those musicians dressed in those latest styles.
Copyright © 2010 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Monday, September 14, 2009
Full Steam Ahead - Leroy 'Hog' Cooper on Sax
Although I had run into some difficulties and planned to revise my publication goal to 2010, as plans often do, mine have changed once again. With the assistance of some valuable sources I am moving forward and am hoping to publish by mid-November of this year.
This on-again, off-again working process has caused a lot of stress for me and countless conversations with a number of people. I'm putting that all behind me now and securing the necessary photos from my secret (for now) national and international sources. After receiving my draft from the editors, I am in the process of making corrections and adding new content that I obtained.
Unfortunately, the Tribute to Leroy Cooper at B.B. King's Blues Club in Orlando has been cancelled, or at least postponed for now. I will consider rescheduling in January or February closer to the anniversary of Leroy's passing in order to honor his memory.
Now, I must get back to work. Hopefully, from here forward things will go smoothly. If they do, it will be a new experience for me!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Leroy 'Hog' Cooper Tribute has been postponed
Originally scheduled for November 1, 2009, to coincide with the release of my book, Leroy 'Hog' Cooper on Sax, I have run into some minor problems. As a result, I expect o celebrate Leroy's life and career in early 2010.
I have been fortunate enough to locate a photo-journalist that knew Leroy in the '70s in Europe. Leroy was touring with Ray Charles at the time and the band returned to Europe annually. Val Wilmer and Leroy become strong acquaintances during those visits. In fact, I remember Leroy telling me that Val was one of the writers and photographers that took a particular interest in him, as opposed to other members of Ray Charles' band, and wrote articles about him. He specifically remembered her writing one for a publication named Melody Maker.
Val has chosen to be the last person to use a computer as her primary means of communicating. In fact, she does not have an email address or website, so finding her was a challenge. With the help of a researcher and musical archivist, Joel Dufour, I finally reached Val by way of cables under the 'pond' or through some complicated satellite device orbiting the earth. Val has provided me with some new (old, really, but new to me) photos and articles about Leroy. I feel that her contributions add enough value to the book to continue our mutual pursuit in preserving Leroy Cooper's memory.
Additionally, I have had the opportunity to speak to one of Leroy Cooper's high school teachers, Myrtle Sloane. We spoke once and she remembers Leroy. I am hoping to interview her in upcoming weeks.
As more information has become available, my decision was to postpone publication until all avenues and resources had been exhausted. It is important to me that this book provide a complete chronicle, or as close as possible, of Leroy's life story. There is so much I will never know that I can't share with the world, but every little piece of the puzzle adds more depth to his character and I don't want any of it to be lost.
Joel Dufour has sent me some detailed information about some of the musicians Leroy played with during his career. The humility that Leroy displayed prevented him from describing himself in terms of some of the great blues musicians that others in his field would want to learn about.
Deadlines can be moved. Tributes can be delayed. For the sake of my subject, it seems important to do both.
I have been fortunate enough to locate a photo-journalist that knew Leroy in the '70s in Europe. Leroy was touring with Ray Charles at the time and the band returned to Europe annually. Val Wilmer and Leroy become strong acquaintances during those visits. In fact, I remember Leroy telling me that Val was one of the writers and photographers that took a particular interest in him, as opposed to other members of Ray Charles' band, and wrote articles about him. He specifically remembered her writing one for a publication named Melody Maker.
Val has chosen to be the last person to use a computer as her primary means of communicating. In fact, she does not have an email address or website, so finding her was a challenge. With the help of a researcher and musical archivist, Joel Dufour, I finally reached Val by way of cables under the 'pond' or through some complicated satellite device orbiting the earth. Val has provided me with some new (old, really, but new to me) photos and articles about Leroy. I feel that her contributions add enough value to the book to continue our mutual pursuit in preserving Leroy Cooper's memory.
Additionally, I have had the opportunity to speak to one of Leroy Cooper's high school teachers, Myrtle Sloane. We spoke once and she remembers Leroy. I am hoping to interview her in upcoming weeks.
As more information has become available, my decision was to postpone publication until all avenues and resources had been exhausted. It is important to me that this book provide a complete chronicle, or as close as possible, of Leroy's life story. There is so much I will never know that I can't share with the world, but every little piece of the puzzle adds more depth to his character and I don't want any of it to be lost.
Joel Dufour has sent me some detailed information about some of the musicians Leroy played with during his career. The humility that Leroy displayed prevented him from describing himself in terms of some of the great blues musicians that others in his field would want to learn about.
Deadlines can be moved. Tributes can be delayed. For the sake of my subject, it seems important to do both.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Blues musicians' nicknames
Funny how blues musicians have to be given nicknames in order to be recognized. This phenomenon occurs in other genres and of course, is rampant in athletes.
Leroy Cooper was dubbed by his high school band director as Hog. David Newman got his label, Fathead from that same man. Hank Crawford didn't use his first name which was Bennie. All of these are sax players that played with Ray Charles. Ernest Vantrease, keyboard player for Ray for almost 30 years, was dubbed The Deacon, although now that he's with B.B. King he is known by his given name.
Speaking of B.B. King, his real name is Riley B. King, but it is generally known that the B.B. stands for Blues Boy.
Buster Smith's given name was Henry. How 'bout this one? Antoine Dominique Domino became famous as Fats Domino.
Would blues fans recognize a song by Amos Blakemore? Would they know that Buddy Guy was the man performing it?
The list goes on and on and even in local blues bands, if you don't have a nickname you're not a 'cat' as Leroy would describe you. Here in Orlando, we have Mad Dog Mahoney, Mojo Jones, the Iceman, Birddog Bobby, Lil Mookie, and the list goes on.
Go ahead and show me what you know. Leave a comment with one that I've left out. There are plenty that have slipped my mind this morning -- it's Saturday and I was going to take the day off. Hah!
Leroy Cooper was dubbed by his high school band director as Hog. David Newman got his label, Fathead from that same man. Hank Crawford didn't use his first name which was Bennie. All of these are sax players that played with Ray Charles. Ernest Vantrease, keyboard player for Ray for almost 30 years, was dubbed The Deacon, although now that he's with B.B. King he is known by his given name.
Speaking of B.B. King, his real name is Riley B. King, but it is generally known that the B.B. stands for Blues Boy.
Buster Smith's given name was Henry. How 'bout this one? Antoine Dominique Domino became famous as Fats Domino.
Would blues fans recognize a song by Amos Blakemore? Would they know that Buddy Guy was the man performing it?
The list goes on and on and even in local blues bands, if you don't have a nickname you're not a 'cat' as Leroy would describe you. Here in Orlando, we have Mad Dog Mahoney, Mojo Jones, the Iceman, Birddog Bobby, Lil Mookie, and the list goes on.
Go ahead and show me what you know. Leave a comment with one that I've left out. There are plenty that have slipped my mind this morning -- it's Saturday and I was going to take the day off. Hah!
Friday, August 28, 2009
Lowell Fulson - "Reconsider Baby"
The Big Man
By Susan Cross
Excerpt from Leroy 'Hog' Cooper on Sax, A Memoir by Leroy Cooper with Susan Cross, copyright August 2009
In 1954, I played with Lowell Fulson at Chess Records. Leonard Chess was at the date and was telling me what to play on the baritone. “Play some low notes, play some low notes.” All this was going on when we was playing on "Reconsider Baby".
In 1956, we recorded “I Believe I’ll Give it Up,” “Please Don’t Go,” and “Be on your Merry Way.”
Lowell lived about 30 miles from me in Ft. Worth. He would come to Dallas to do a gig and would come by my house and rest up. You know, him and his lady. I guess I knew him pretty well. Back then, the guitarist was so superior to everybody else, just like organ players. If you could play the organ you were better than the rest of the guys. You were a big man.
By Susan Cross
Excerpt from Leroy 'Hog' Cooper on Sax, A Memoir by Leroy Cooper with Susan Cross, copyright August 2009
In 1954, I played with Lowell Fulson at Chess Records. Leonard Chess was at the date and was telling me what to play on the baritone. “Play some low notes, play some low notes.” All this was going on when we was playing on "Reconsider Baby".
In 1956, we recorded “I Believe I’ll Give it Up,” “Please Don’t Go,” and “Be on your Merry Way.”
Lowell lived about 30 miles from me in Ft. Worth. He would come to Dallas to do a gig and would come by my house and rest up. You know, him and his lady. I guess I knew him pretty well. Back then, the guitarist was so superior to everybody else, just like organ players. If you could play the organ you were better than the rest of the guys. You were a big man.
Copyright © 2009 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Leroy 'Hog' Cooper on Sax can RIP soon
2008 International Blues Challenge in Memphiswith the Smokin' Torpedoes (talking to a fan)
Writing Leroy 'Hog' Cooper on Sax has not been easy. The best part was sitting in his home listening to him tell me the stories of his life, dating back to about 1936. Stories about growing up in Dallas through hard times in a middle class black neighborhood, learning to play reed instruments as a child, attending high school, college and joining his first big band. Being drafted interrupted his musical career until he auditioned by the Army Band where he played baritone sax and became the bandleader.
Not long after leaving the service, he became a member of the Ray Charles Band, a small group at the time that wasn't getting much respect. It took years before the country recognized the blind, musical genius and his supporting cast, one of which was Leroy Cooper.
His life took many twists and turns and I enjoyed hearing every single story. I wish I could say the same about the work involved in writing the book. It has been a rigorous undertaking and a labor of love. Leroy and I had no signed contract, but as was Leroy's nature, we shook on the deal. Now Leroy has left us behind to listen to his music and read his story. He kept his end of the bargain by telling me his stories. Now I am honoring him by completing this labor of love.
I am delighted to have received some amazing photos of Leroy to use in the book; some with Ray Charles, others with the Dixieland Deltas from his 20 years strolling the grounds of Disney World entertaining guests. Pictures of Leroy being Leroy, with a cigar in his hand, a drink in front of him and empty dishes -- all of which he was known for, especially the empty dishes since his self described addiction was to food more than anything.
I'm still adding stories told to me at our last meeting. Then the manuscript goes to the professional editors, I go to the publisher's with the photos and work on the cover art. There is still plenty of work to be done before I hold the finished product in my hand but momentum is building.
Leroy Cooper knows I'm a woman of my word. I made a promise and I am keeping it.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Little Leroy 'Hog' Cooper - Making music with magazines, hangers and body language
Leroy Cooper started his music career at a very young age. Or at least he had already begun fantasizing about it. Here's an excerpt from Leroy 'Hog' Cooper, A Memoir by Leroy Cooper & Susan Cross with Foreword by David Ritz.
When I was a little boy, 7 or 8 years old, I was a one man band. I had a rolled up magazine and wooden boxes for drums and coat hangers. I’d blow through the magazines and beat on the boxes. I’d be having a ball, just beating on the boxes and blowing through the magazine. I had a picket fence and I could take the coat hanger and scrape it along the fence to add another sound. The old lady neighbors were saying, “He ain’t right. He ain’t gonna make it!” I’d be just having fun.
My mother would come up with some kid to play with me and say, “Surprise, I brought Johnny, Jr. to play with you.” I would get mad because Johnny, Jr. would interfere with my fun.
Awhile later I started blowing the horn. I would get up on top of the barn, the garage was a barn, I’d get up there with my horn and the cat staying across the alley would get up on top of his barn, and he had a saxophone and we’d be blowing at each other. Then my daddy would come home from work and he’d be standing there laughing. Back then we used to practice body moves because we couldn’t play any music. So we figured we had to get some body language. We practiced that stuff.
When I was a little boy, 7 or 8 years old, I was a one man band. I had a rolled up magazine and wooden boxes for drums and coat hangers. I’d blow through the magazines and beat on the boxes. I’d be having a ball, just beating on the boxes and blowing through the magazine. I had a picket fence and I could take the coat hanger and scrape it along the fence to add another sound. The old lady neighbors were saying, “He ain’t right. He ain’t gonna make it!” I’d be just having fun.
My mother would come up with some kid to play with me and say, “Surprise, I brought Johnny, Jr. to play with you.” I would get mad because Johnny, Jr. would interfere with my fun.
Awhile later I started blowing the horn. I would get up on top of the barn, the garage was a barn, I’d get up there with my horn and the cat staying across the alley would get up on top of his barn, and he had a saxophone and we’d be blowing at each other. Then my daddy would come home from work and he’d be standing there laughing. Back then we used to practice body moves because we couldn’t play any music. So we figured we had to get some body language. We practiced that stuff.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Photos of Ray Charles & Leroy Cooper
These past few days have been challenging, as described in recent posts. The good news is that I received the photos I need for the book. It seemed essential to me to have pictures that included Leroy 'Hog' Cooper with Ray Charles, Hank Crawford, Phil Guilbeau and Marcus Belgrave. Although people who know Leroy Cooper know that he played with Ray, and the book tells some stories about those experiences, without photos I had an empty feeling relating to credibility.
The forces of the Universe have come together and from two different sources I have received photos of the old days. I have another person now searching for pictures of her with Leroy and David 'Fathead' Newman which would also be a treat to those who know about the jazz greats. When Fathead left Ray, he started playing jazz sax and worked with Cynthia Scott, a former Raelet quite often.
After interviewing Cynthia yesterday, she's now looking for photos. By the way, her new CD is fabulous (shameless plug) and all original. You can 'take a listen' (I hate that term that all the news readers -- I can't call them reporters -- use) to her yourself. There's a tribute song to Ray Charles on it. Check out Cynthia at http://www.cynthiascott.com/.
Looks liks I'll have to go with the glossy photo section in the center of the book instead of all black and white. That is not what I planned but I am very excited to have the pictures to make it happen! (Aside: I sure wish they had digital cameras back then!)
The forces of the Universe have come together and from two different sources I have received photos of the old days. I have another person now searching for pictures of her with Leroy and David 'Fathead' Newman which would also be a treat to those who know about the jazz greats. When Fathead left Ray, he started playing jazz sax and worked with Cynthia Scott, a former Raelet quite often.
After interviewing Cynthia yesterday, she's now looking for photos. By the way, her new CD is fabulous (shameless plug) and all original. You can 'take a listen' (I hate that term that all the news readers -- I can't call them reporters -- use) to her yourself. There's a tribute song to Ray Charles on it. Check out Cynthia at http://www.cynthiascott.com/.
Looks liks I'll have to go with the glossy photo section in the center of the book instead of all black and white. That is not what I planned but I am very excited to have the pictures to make it happen! (Aside: I sure wish they had digital cameras back then!)
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Leroy Cooper and the Ice Capades?
Taking Notes
By Susan Cross
Leroy always greeted me at the door with a large smile, a hug and a kiss. I miss him terribly. We would go into what he referred to as the prayer room. We sat opposite each other – Leroy on a black and white hounds-tooth chair and me on a white chair. I placed the little recorder on the hounds-tooth ottoman between us. I pushed the tiny red record button and then the stories began.
While Leroy was on a break from the Ray Charles band he told me about an unusual gig he played in Vegas.
“We were working intermissions for the Ice Capades in the Latin Hotel. We were the opening act. They’d put plywood on the ice and we’d be so cold. I was with the house band. The name of the show was Funky Soul. Good show. A lot of people was on the show. A lot of no names. Most of them almost made it. We had one hour of happiness. We played through the show until the end. No stopping.
“I was trying to keep up with the band with the baritone and they were telling me to kick your legs up high. I said, ‘Give me a break.’ I had a little comedic spot. The guitar player was about 6’4” and skinny, and they used to have us stand next to each other because I was so large.
"That’s when Metrecal was popular. All this stuff was going on and then it would get quiet and I’d be standing with Terry and they’d say something like, “I thought you were on Metrecal.” People would howl with laughter.”
For those of you who don't remember Metrecal, it was the magical weight loss potion of the day back in 1960.
By Susan Cross
Leroy always greeted me at the door with a large smile, a hug and a kiss. I miss him terribly. We would go into what he referred to as the prayer room. We sat opposite each other – Leroy on a black and white hounds-tooth chair and me on a white chair. I placed the little recorder on the hounds-tooth ottoman between us. I pushed the tiny red record button and then the stories began.
While Leroy was on a break from the Ray Charles band he told me about an unusual gig he played in Vegas.
“We were working intermissions for the Ice Capades in the Latin Hotel. We were the opening act. They’d put plywood on the ice and we’d be so cold. I was with the house band. The name of the show was Funky Soul. Good show. A lot of people was on the show. A lot of no names. Most of them almost made it. We had one hour of happiness. We played through the show until the end. No stopping.
“I was trying to keep up with the band with the baritone and they were telling me to kick your legs up high. I said, ‘Give me a break.’ I had a little comedic spot. The guitar player was about 6’4” and skinny, and they used to have us stand next to each other because I was so large.
"That’s when Metrecal was popular. All this stuff was going on and then it would get quiet and I’d be standing with Terry and they’d say something like, “I thought you were on Metrecal.” People would howl with laughter.”
For those of you who don't remember Metrecal, it was the magical weight loss potion of the day back in 1960.
Copyright © 2009 Susan Cross – All rights reserved
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