Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Day the Governor Closed Atlantic City




Governor Chris Christie signs legislation on state takeover of Atlantic City tourist district. (above)



Governor Frankly Fort




THE DAY THE GOVERNOR CLOSED ATLANTIC CITY
By William Kelly (billkelly3@gmail.com)

When Governor Chris Christie signed legislation that gives the State of New Jersey unprecedented powers in Atlantic City, virtually taking over parts of the town, it wasn’t the first time a governor was at odds with the way the city operated.

In 1908 Governor Franklin Fort sent the Attorney General to town to see that the Sunday blue laws were enforced, and when he couldn’t do it, Fort threatened to in send the state militia to straighten things out.

Atlantic City was always known as a wide open town, not only for free enterprise to anyone who wanted to do business, but for anyone who wanted a drink, to gamble or get a call girl, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It was a barrier island unto itself, ruled by the political bosses who lived there.

In his book Boardwalk Empire, Judge Nelson Johnson writes, “The prevalence of gambling, prostitution, and unlawful sales of liquor were admitted to openly by local officials. Hundreds of local families relied on illegal sources of income and as long as the visitors were happy, no one interfered. This brazen violation of the law created a furor in the newspapers nearly every summer. In time, resort businessmen and politicians built up immunity to the newspaper criticisms. They learned that being so remote geographically had its advantages. Resort politicians knew best how to deal with such complaints – ignore them.”

Atlantic City even carried on business as usual on Sundays, in contrivance of New Jersey State law, and much to the chagrin of the governor John Franklin Fort, who won election in 1807 based in part on a platform promising to clean up Atlantic City. As Nelson Johnson writes, “Governor Fort declared war on Atlantic City. In July, 1908 he vowed to clean up the town, appointed a special commission to investigate the resort’s illegal activities and demanded to know why the prosecutor refused to file complaints against the saloon keepers, gambling room operators, and madams.”

Fort read the newspaper reports of the debauchery in Atlantic City, and promised to put an end to it, but once he got into office found that he could do little about it. When the Attorney General got to Atlantic City to enforce the laws, he found that when violators were brought before a grand jury, the juries refused to indict.

The grand juries, it turned out, were handpicked by the county sheriff, Smith Johnson, Enoch “Nucky” Johnson’s father. “Sheriff Johnson understood the legal system and knew how to protect Atlantic City’s businessmen,” explains Nelson Johnson. “He controlled the selection of the grand jury and saw to it that everyone chosen to serve was ‘safe.’ He even chose jurors who were tavern owners themselves or local businessmen who benefited from vice.”

When asked why he made no arrests, Sheriff Johnson told Governor Fort that he had enough to do already and wasn’t going to “go looking for trouble.”

While Fort couldn’t change the morals and manners of the city, he could enforce state law, and was hell bent on enforcing the law that forbade the sale of liquor on Sunday. It was quite clear that the hotels, bars and restaurants in Atlantic City flagrantly ignored the state law that banned the sale of alcohol on Sunday, and Fort was determined to see that the law was enforced. After he issued an official proclamation that was ignored, Fort threatened to call out the National Guard, invade Atlantic City and shut down the illegal operations.

“Threat of Militia for Atlantic City” read the headline in the New York Times on Aug. 28, 1908, “ Gov. Fort makes Sensational Attack on Sunday Law Violators at That Resort. Officials Are Traitors.” The Times ran sensational stories written without a byline, apparently to protect the reporters from retribution. One such article explained, “Gov. Fort of New Jersey issued a proclamation to the people of the State on the non-enforcement in Atlantic City of the Bishops’ law for-bidding the sale of liquor on Sunday. In it he declares that if the resort is open on Sunday next he will authorize the courts to remove all officials who willfully refuse to do their duty.”

Simultaneously with “this sensational declaration of the Governor, the Grand Jury was discharged after reporting that they had found no indictments for violations of the excise law.”

While he was on vacation at Sea Girt, Fort issued a statement that built up suspense, saying, “No one questioned the fact that street walking, gambling, houses of ill-fame, people of ill-repute, obscene pictures, and open violations of the excise laws exist in Atlantic City. The Police know it or could find out if they wanted to, but they refused to do anything to better conditions. In fact, in respect to the Sunday law enforcement, they not only refused, but have admitted that they were aiding the nullification of these laws.”

“The conditions amount to a combination of officials and influential citizens to subvert the State laws – in a word, treason against the State,” said Fort, who wrote a letter to the Sheriff Smith E. Johnson to say: “Your ideas of the duties of the Sheriff of a county are most surprising. The Sheriff not only has the power to detect and suppress vice, but it is his duty to do so. He should not wait until some one tells of a criminal act and of a violation of the law, but he should seek out offenders and suppress their practices. You seem to think that all you need to do is to hide behind the fact that no one makes a complaint. If this satisfies your conscience it does not satisfy the law. You are entitled to the support of the State giving you its entire citizen soldiery to assist you.”

To Mayor F. P. Story, Fort wrote: “It is quiet apparent you know all about conditions in your city, not only with regard to Sunday violations, but the much worse violations of the law in the form of gambling and vice and crimes of an unmentionable character. If you do not know, then you do not care to know. You admit that the police are under your control; that they would, if you gave the order, close these places, and yet you do not give that order. It cannot be that you are not interested in Atlantic City. It is the great ocean resort of our state, attractive in every way. Its future is promising in a remarkable degree, and if present conditions are allowed to continue and the character of vice and crime that are exists is permitted to flourish, people of repute will refuse to go there.”

“If you cannot enforce all laws in Atlantic City, I will enforce the laws in Atlantic City as the Governor of the State. There will be no difficulty to do it. The criminal will run away from the law every time when he understands that the law is to be enforced. You have occupied the office of Mayor for many years. You owe the people of that city something, and I appeal to you to enforce the law or request that the State shall do it.”

Somers Point was also found to be open. This was the home of Judge Enoch Higbee, the Judge of the County Court, who said he stood ready to enforce the law.

The Governor said, “Two methods suggest themselves as a remedy when the officials refuse and the courts of law are powerless to punish the wrongdoers. First – Call out the militia and police the city with soldiers and close up the illegal places by the military arm of the State. This amounts to declaring martial law. Second – call the Legislature to enact legislation to place the drawing of all juries in the hands of an independent commission, that fair men may be selected for this duty; and to authorize the courts to remove officials who willfully and perversely refuse to do their duty.”

The local officials were under the direction of “Commodore” Louis Kuehnle, Atlantic City’s first political boss, and Kuehnle, Sheriff Johnson and Judge Higbee decided to give in and enforce the State Sunday blue law.

The Times reported, “Gov. Fort has won his fight for Sunday closings in Atlantic City without resorting to the troops. Atlantic City will be closed as tight as a drum on Sunday next. Instead of State guardsmen behind the bars of every licensed establishment, policemen, who for years have winked at open side doors, will arrest every license holder who dares to defy the Bishops’ law. The decision was reached late this afternoon when County Judge Enoch A. Higbee, long reported as a component part of the country political machine, issued a friendly warning to his friends – the hotel men of Atlantic City.”

Unlike today, where Republican Governor Christie is seen as a foreign interloper by the Democrats in the mayor’s office, they were all Republicans then. Both Governor Forte and the local political machine were Republicans, and the issue was seen as possibly hurting the image of the party. As they speculated in the newspapers, “That the effect of Gov. Fort’s threat to call out the militia to subdue the defiant saloonkeepers of Atlantic County will probably be to make some thousands of indifferent men of New Jersey vote the Democratic ticket in November. The experience of many years has shown that when the liquor issue came before the people at election the liquor men have won.”

The day finally arrived, and Atlantic City survived. A bulletin posted to-day in Police Headquarters read: “Bulletin – Saloons all closed. No troops in town.” The Chief of Police was quoted as saying, “I don’t believe any town ever was or ever will be more completely closed so far as the enforcement of the Sunday selling law is concerned.”

Bartenders had a complete holiday. As the Times reported, it was, “the first Sunday off for many a moon, and some of them said it was the first time they had been able to see what the Boardwalk crowds really looked like on the day of rest.” Some thought the closings would keep many persons away form the resort, but they were mistaken, as the crowds were unusually large. But with Atlantic City closed, some were thirsty enough to jump on the trolley to Ocean City and got off in Somers Point, where they expected the bars to be open, as they always were in Judge Higbee’s hometown.

Two years earlier when Atlantic City closed Somers Point did a big business. Trolleys carried thousands there for a dime, and the taverns in the town took in profits enough in twelve hours to pay rent and other expenses for a year. This time however, as Times noted, “Hundreds of thirsty tourist, who, failing to obtain the refreshments, hastened to Somers Point by trolley with the assurance that there would be no difficulty in getting anything a dry palate might crave in the bay resort, fourteen miles from the city. They returned in dejection with the tidings that Somers Point was also dry.”

At the end of the day, they tabulated up the money not earned and it was reported, “A spokesman for the affected liquor interests, and one of the local political leaders, declared that the loss of to-day’s closings would amount approximately to $150,000.”

The closing of the city on Sundays brought many citizens up at arms, and they called for an emergency meeting to determine who was going to lead the city. One report said, “Citizens of all parties and all factions will meet to voice a demand for a new rule for the city. The saloon and hotel interests believe the policy of the Kuehnle administration is to blame for the emergency.”

Despite all the rhetoric and mass meetings demanding change and new leadership, Commodore Kuehnle maintained his power until 1911 when justice finally caught up with him, and his mentor, Enoch “Nucky’ Johnson, the son of Sheriff Sam Johnson took over. Nucky would maintain his reign for thirty years, until he too went to jail in August, 1941. The day before he surrendered to serve his sentence, Nucky threw a party and married his long time girlfriend, showgirl Florence “Flossie” Osbeck.

When he got out of jail four years later, Nucky Johnson became just an ordinary citizen of Atlantic City, the guy who once owned the town, was just another guy walking down the boardwalk. The new boss, Francis Sherman “Hap” Farley inherited the political machine that Commodore Kuehnle and Nucky Johnson had assembled and he enhanced it further, maintaining his rule until 1971 when he finally lost an election.

So for the better part of a century, Atlantic City was run by three men – Commodore K, Nucky Johnson and Hap Farley, and in some ways, they were more powerful than the governor, as the city remained open for business on Sundays.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The Wild Bunch at Fort Worth, Texas



Harry Longabaugh - aka the Sundance Kid (far left) & Robert Leroy Parker - aka Butch Cassidy (far right) and the remnants of the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang at Fort Worth, Texas, at their fairwell party before breaking up.

The Hollywood Wild Bunch at Hole in the Wall

Portraits of Burch & Sundance







Butch Cassidy - left, and three photos of the Sundance Kid below.

Butch & Sundance - The Men & The Myth




Actually it's Harry Lonabaugh - aka the Sundance Kid (Left) and Robert Leroy Parker - aka Butch Cassidy (right)

The Sundance Kid's AC Connection



Harry Longabaugh, Will Carver, Ben Kilpatrick, Harvey Logan, Butch Cassidy.Photo Courtesy of Union Pacific Railroad Museum

The Sundance Kid & the Sting’s Atlantic City Connections

Robert Redford and Paul Newman made two memorial movies together – Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid and the Sting.

Redford played Butch Cassidy’s sidekick the Sundance Kid while Newman was Charlie Gondorf in The Sting, both historical characters with Atlantic City connections.

Gondorf, the King of the Big Con confidence men of the early part of the last century, was an Atlantic City bartender when he wasn’t playing the inside man in big time swindles as portrayed in the movie The Sting.

Then there’s the legend that Harry Longabaugh – the Sundance Kid, was from Atlantic City, which turns out to be partially true.

In the movie Butch Cassidy & Sundance Kid, there’s a scene where they get off a train in a desolate place in South America, and Butch Cassidy, whose idea it was to go there, says, “It could be worse. You get a lot more for your money in Bolivia, I know, I checked it out.”

The Sundance Kid then responds, “This might be the garden spot of the whole country. People may travel hundreds of miles just to get to this spot where we’re standing now. This might be the Atlantic City of all Bolivia for all we know.”

Cassidy says, “Look, now I know a lot more about Bolivia than you know about Atlantic City, New Jersey, I can tell you that.”

“Ah, ha! you do, huh?” says the Kid. “I was born there. I was born in New Jersey. Brought up there.”

Incredulously, Butch Cassidy looks up, “You’re from the east? I didn’t know that.”

Donna and Paul Ernst, who lived in Ocean City, NJ, saw the movie and didn’t think anything about it, but were startled when they read a National Geographic Magazine article “The Outlaw Trail,” by Robert Redford, in which he mentions that the Sundance Kid’s real name was Harry Alonzo Longabaugh. And there is a town in Wyoming near the Hole in the Wall canyon where they hung out called Atlantic City.

“Well, Longabaugh isn’t exactly Smith,” said Donna Ernest, who wrote to the magazine, whose historian sent her a detailed Longabaugh family history that showed that the Sundance Kid was the brother of Paul Ernst’s great-grandfather.

Paul then remembered his “grandpop” at a holiday dinner if the family was interested in hearing the story of his “uncle Harry, who had a sidekick, and were like Jesse James. They robbed banks and gave it to poor people, and died in South America.”

But then he said, “Na, isn’t anyone’s business, forget it.”

His grandfather repeated the story a number of times over the years, but the family just thought he was out of his head, and he was senile when he died in March, 1976.

Unfortunately, Grandpop went to his grave with the details of the story of his “Uncle Henry,” the Sundance Kid. “He never told anyone all he knew,” said Donna, “and he died in silence, taking his memories with him.”

Once intrigued however, Paul and Donna took up the trail of the outlaws and learned a lot over the following twenty years.
Harry Alonzo Longabaugh – aka the Sundance Kid, was not actually born in Atlantic City, as the movie attests, but rather in Mont Clare, on the Schuylkill Canal in Pennsylvania.

According to Donna Ernst, “Because Mont Clare, Pennsylvania is extremely small, historians thought it was actually Mont Clare, New Jersey, and that assumption eventually caused the line in the movie where Redford, as the Sundance Kid, claims he was born in Atlantic City.”

Harry – the Sundance Kid, had a brother Harvey, who did live in Atlantic City, and is credited with helping to build the first boardwalk. Since his brother had a place at the Shore, Harry frequently visited him, and thus the Atlantic City connection was firmly established.

Becoming entranced with the subject, Donna and Paul began an intense search of family history in order to learn as much about Harry Longabaugh as they could, digging through old family and official records. According to Donna, “We discovered a Conrad Longabaugh had immigrated to Philadelphia on December 24, 1772, aboard the brig Morning Star. He fought in the Revolutionary War and then raised his family in Eastern Pennsylvania. His descendants eventually settled in Mont Clare, where during the spring of 1867, Harry Alongzo Longabaugh was born.”

On August 30, 1882 the restless fourteen year old Harry left to go West with some cousins in a covered wagon, eventually settling in Cortez, Colorado, where they lived for four years. After working a cattle drive to Montana in 1886, he went to the Black Hills area, where at Sundance, Wyoming, on February 27, 1887, he allegedly stole a light grey horse, a gun and a saddle form an employee of the VVV Ranch. After being caught, the 20 year old attempted to escape by jumping off a train, but was recaptured. The local Yellowstone Journal newspaper compared him to Jesse James and attributed some other local crimes to him. In response, from the Sundance jail, he wrote a letter to the editor.

“In your issue of the 7t, I read a very sensational and partly untrue article, which places me before the public not even second to the notorious Jesse James. Admitting that I have done nothing wrong and expecting to be dealt with according to the law and not by false reports from parties who should blush with shame to make them, I ask a little of your space to set my case before the public in a true light. In the first place, I have always worked for an honest living…and was arrested…and charged with having stolen a horse at Sundance, where I was being taken by Sheriff Ryan, whom I escaped from by jumping from the cars, which I judged were running at the rate of 100 miles an hour. After this my course of outlawry commenced, and I suffered terribly for the want of food in the hope of getting back south without being detected, where I would be looked upon as I always have been, and not as a criminal. Contrary to the statement in the Journal, I deny having stolen any horses in Canada, or anyplace else, up to the time I was captured, at which time I was riding a horse which I bought and paid for. Nor had I the slightest idea of stealing any horses. I am aware that some of your readers will say my statement should be taken or what it is worth, on account of the hard name which has been forced upon me, nevertheless it is true. As for my recapture by Deputy Sheriff Davis, all I can say is that he did his work well and were it not for him ‘playing possum’ I would now be on my way south, where I had hoped to go and live a better life.” Signed Harry Lonabaugh.

When Harry Lonabaugh got out of jail the newspaper reported, “the kid has been released from Sundance,” and the Sundance Kid was born.

As Donna Ernst relates, “Stealing horses soon became robbing banks and holding up trains. Sundance and his pal Butch Cassidy were the leaders of a loose-knit group of thieves better known as the Wild Bunch. And together these men were so skilled at escaping the law that the American Bankers Association and the Union Pacific Railroad hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency to capture them – at any cost.”

In the course of their two decades long quest to learn as much as possible about their renegade relation, Donna and Paul spent their summer vacations traveling the West’s “Outlaw Trails,” where they visited banks their great-uncle once robbed and the cabins in the mountains where they hid out from the law.

They also found another Atlantic City connection – Atlantic City, Wyoming, one of the ghost towns near Hole-in-the-Wall Wyoming.

They trailed the Wild Bunch to Fort Worth, Texas, where the gang regrouped and had the famous photograph taken. “Sundance and Butch saw their way of life changing before their eyes,” Donna relates. “Their fellow outlaws were all being killed or caught and jailed. It was time to move on, to take a trip to South America, and to start a new life. So the Wild Bunch met in Fort Worth for a good-bye celebration. One of the things they did was have their picture taken together, but unknown to them, the photographer placed the picture on display in his window, where it was seen by a Wells Fargo detective who recognized one of the men.”

With the heat hot on their tail, says Donna, “the Sundance Kid returned home with his wife, Ethel Place, to see his family, brother Harvey and his sisters Samanna and Emma, and meet his nieces and nephews, some born in his absence. Then he explained his decision to move to South America and told his family he was going to settle down, buy a ranch and go straight.”

According to the reports of the Pinkerton Detectives who were after him, Sundance and Ethel were seen “frolicking” at the beach in Atlantic City, where the Sundance Kid’s brother Harvey lived at the time. “We suspect they visited Harvey’s family at the beach,” says Donna, “and at that time Grandpop was about eleven years old.”

According to the legend, and the movie, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid fled to South America and were the two American bandits killed in a shootout in San Vicente, Bolivia on November 8, 1908.

But Lula Parker Betenson, Butch Cassidy’s sister, wrote a book Butch Cassidy, My Brother (Bringham Young Press, 1975) in which she claims her brother returned home years after he was reported killed in South America, and told the family that he last saw the Sundance Kid and Ethel Place at a bullfight in Mexico City.

In 1991, research historian Dan Buck and Anthropologist Dr. Clyde Snow exhumed the bodies of the “bandito Yankees,” killed an buried in San Vicente, Bolivia, and conducted DNA tests to match genetic material with descendants of Cassidy and Longabaugh. The negative results left the case open to historical debate as to whether Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were killed in South America or merely encouraged the rumors of their death in order to get the Pinkertons off their trail and to start a new life outside of crime.

As a result of their research and travels, Donna Ernst wrote a book, Sundance – My Uncle (Creative Publishing Co, Box 9292, College Station, Tx., 77842, 1992), which chronicles the full story of Harry Alonzo Longabaugh, at least what could be learned today.

At a meeting of Western Outlaw-Lawmen History Association, Donna Ernst said, “While I am not a professional writer, I don’t mind doing a lot of research. I have mixed my desire for accuracy and my access to private family information together with the historical details of Sundance’s life. In the process I have found some new information, and have tried to correct a few inaccuracies.”


Next: CHARLIE GONDORF – THE STING’S ATLANTIC CITY CONNCTION

The Day the Governor Closed Atlantic City

THE DAY THE GOVERNOR CLOSED ATLANTIC CITY

By William Kelly (billkelly3@gmail.com)

When Governor Chris Christie signed legislation that gives the State of New Jersey unprecedented powers in Atlantic City, virtually taking over parts of the town, it wasn’t the first time a governor was at odds with the way the city operated.

In 1908 Governor Franklin Fort sent the Attorney General to town to see that the Sunday blue laws were enforced, and when he couldn’t do it, Fort threatened to in send the state militia to straighten things out.

Atlantic City was always known as a wide open town, not only for free enterprise to anyone who wanted to do business, but for anyone who wanted a drink, to gamble or get a call girl, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It was a barrier island unto itself, ruled by the political bosses who lived there.

In his book Boardwalk Empire, Judge Nelson Johnson writes, “The prevalence of gambling, prostitution, and unlawful sales of liquor were admitted to openly by local officials. Hundreds of local families relied on illegal sources of income and as long as the visitors were happy, no one interfered. This brazen violation of the law created a furor in the newspapers nearly every summer. In time, resort businessmen and politicians built up immunity to the newspaper criticisms. They learned that being so remote geographically had its advantages. Resort politicians knew best how to deal with such complaints – ignore them.”

Atlantic City even carried on business as usual on Sundays, in contrivance of New Jersey State law, and much to the chagrin of the governor John Franklin Fort, who won election in 1807 based in part on a platform promising to clean up Atlantic City. As Nelson Johnson writes, “Governor Fort declared war on Atlantic City. In July, 1908 he vowed to clean up the town, appointed a special commission to investigate the resort’s illegal activities and demanded to know why the prosecutor refused to file complaints against the saloon keepers, gambling room operators, and madams.”

Fort read the newspaper reports of the debauchery in Atlantic City, and promised to put an end to it, but once he got into office found that he could do little about it. When the Attorney General got to Atlantic City to enforce the laws, he found that when violators were brought before a grand jury, the juries refused to indict.

The grand juries, it turned out, were handpicked by the county sheriff, Smith Johnson, Enoch “Nucky” Johnson’s father. “Sheriff Johnson understood the legal system and knew how to protect Atlantic City’s businessmen,” explains Nelson Johnson. “He controlled the selection of the grand jury and saw to it that everyone chosen to serve was ‘safe.’ He even chose jurors who were tavern owners themselves or local businessmen who benefited from vice.”

When asked why he made no arrests, Sheriff Johnson told Governor Fort that he had enough to do already and wasn’t going to “go looking for trouble.”

While Fort couldn’t change the morals and manners of the city, he could enforce state law, and was hell bent on enforcing the law that forbade the sale of liquor on Sunday. It was quite clear that the hotels, bars and restaurants in Atlantic City flagrantly ignored the state law that banned the sale of alcohol on Sunday, and Fort was determined to see that the law was enforced. After he issued an official proclamation that was ignored, Fort threatened to call out the National Guard, invade Atlantic City and shut down the illegal operations.

“Threat of Militia for Atlantic City” read the headline in the New York Times on Aug. 28, 1908, “ Gov. Fort makes Sensational Attack on Sunday Law Violators at That Resort. Officials Are Traitors.” The Times ran sensational stories written without a byline, apparently to protect the reporters from retribution. One such article explained, “Gov. Fort of New Jersey issued a proclamation to the people of the State on the non-enforcement in Atlantic City of the Bishops’ law for-bidding the sale of liquor on Sunday. In it he declares that if the resort is open on Sunday next he will authorize the courts to remove all officials who willfully refuse to do their duty.”

Simultaneously with “this sensational declaration of the Governor, the Grand Jury was discharged after reporting that they had found no indictments for violations of the excise law.”

While he was on vacation at Sea Girt, Fort issued a statement that built up suspense, saying, “No one questioned the fact that street walking, gambling, houses of ill-fame, people of ill-repute, obscene pictures, and open violations of the excise laws exist in Atlantic City. The Police know it or could find out if they wanted to, but they refused to do anything to better conditions. In fact, in respect to the Sunday law enforcement, they not only refused, but have admitted that they were aiding the nullification of these laws.”

“The conditions amount to a combination of officials and influential citizens to subvert the State laws – in a word, treason against the State,” said Fort, who wrote a letter to the Sheriff Smith E. Johnson to say: “Your ideas of the duties of the Sheriff of a county are most surprising. The Sheriff not only has the power to detect and suppress vice, but it is his duty to do so. He should not wait until some one tells of a criminal act and of a violation of the law, but he should seek out offenders and suppress their practices. You seem to think that all you need to do is to hide behind the fact that no one makes a complaint. If this satisfies your conscience it does not satisfy the law. You are entitled to the support of the State giving you its entire citizen soldiery to assist you.”

To Mayor F. P. Story, Fort wrote: “It is quiet apparent you know all about conditions in your city, not only with regard to Sunday violations, but the much worse violations of the law in the form of gambling and vice and crimes of an unmentionable character. If you do not know, then you do not care to know. You admit that the police are under your control; that they would, if you gave the order, close these places, and yet you do not give that order. It cannot be that you are not interested in Atlantic City. It is the great ocean resort of our state, attractive in every way. Its future is promising in a remarkable degree, and if present conditions are allowed to continue and the character of vice and crime that are exists is permitted to flourish, people of repute will refuse to go there.”

“If you cannot enforce all laws in Atlantic City, I will enforce the laws in Atlantic City as the Governor of the State. There will be no difficulty to do it. The criminal will run away from the law every time when he understands that the law is to be enforced. You have occupied the office of Mayor for many years. You owe the people of that city something, and I appeal to you to enforce the law or request that the State shall do it.”

Somers Point was also found to be open. This was the home of Judge Enoch Higbee, the Judge of the County Court, who said he stood ready to enforce the law.

The Governor said, “Two methods suggest themselves as a remedy when the officials refuse and the courts of law are powerless to punish the wrongdoers. First – Call out the militia and police the city with soldiers and close up the illegal places by the military arm of the State. This amounts to declaring martial law. Second – call the Legislature to enact legislation to place the drawing of all juries in the hands of an independent commission, that fair men may be selected for this duty; and to authorize the courts to remove officials who willfully and perversely refuse to do their duty.”

The local officials were under the direction of “Commodore” Louis Kuehnle, Atlantic City’s first political boss, and Kuehnle, Sheriff Johnson and Judge Higbee decided to give in and enforce the State Sunday blue law.

The Times reported, “Gov. Fort has won his fight for Sunday closings in Atlantic City without resorting to the troops. Atlantic City will be closed as tight as a drum on Sunday next. Instead of State guardsmen behind the bars of every licensed establishment, policemen, who for years have winked at open side doors, will arrest every license holder who dares to defy the Bishops’ law. The decision was reached late this afternoon when County Judge Enoch A. Higbee, long reported as a component part of the country political machine, issued a friendly warning to his friends – the hotel men of Atlantic City.”

Unlike today, where Republican Governor Christie is seen as a foreign interloper by the Democrats in the mayor’s office, they were all Republicans then. Both Governor Forte and the local political machine were Republicans, and the issue was seen as possibly hurting the image of the party. As they speculated in the newspapers, “That the effect of Gov. Fort’s threat to call out the militia to subdue the defiant saloonkeepers of Atlantic County will probably be to make some thousands of indifferent men of New Jersey vote the Democratic ticket in November. The experience of many years has shown that when the liquor issue came before the people at election the liquor men have won.”

The day finally arrived, and Atlantic City survived. A bulletin posted to-day in Police Headquarters read: “Bulletin – Saloons all closed. No troops in town.” The Chief of Police was quoted as saying, “I don’t believe any town ever was or ever will be more completely closed so far as the enforcement of the Sunday selling law is concerned.”

Bartenders had a complete holiday. As the Times reported, it was, “the first Sunday off for many a moon, and some of them said it was the first time they had been able to see what the Boardwalk crowds really looked like on the day of rest.” Some thought the closings would keep many persons away form the resort, but they were mistaken, as the crowds were unusually large. But with Atlantic City closed, some were thirsty enough to jump on the trolley to Ocean City and got off in Somers Point, where they expected the bars to be open, as they always were in Judge Higbee’s hometown.

Two years earlier when Atlantic City closed Somers Point did a big business. Trolleys carried thousands there for a dime, and the taverns in the town took in profits enough in twelve hours to pay rent and other expenses for a year. This time however, as Times noted, “Hundreds of thirsty tourist, who, failing to obtain the refreshments, hastened to Somers Point by trolley with the assurance that there would be no difficulty in getting anything a dry palate might crave in the bay resort, fourteen miles from the city. They returned in dejection with the tidings that Somers Point was also dry.”

At the end of the day, they tabulated up the money not earned and it was reported, “A spokesman for the affected liquor interests, and one of the local political leaders, declared that the loss of to-day’s closings would amount approximately to $150,000.”

The closing of the city on Sundays brought many citizens up at arms, and they called for an emergency meeting to determine who was going to lead the city. One report said, “Citizens of all parties and all factions will meet to voice a demand for a new rule for the city. The saloon and hotel interests believe the policy of the Kuehnle administration is to blame for the emergency.”

Despite all the rhetoric and mass meetings demanding change and new leadership, Commodore Kuehnle maintained his power until 1911 when justice finally caught up with him, and his mentor, Enoch “Nucky’ Johnson, the son of Sheriff Sam Johnson took over. Nucky would maintain his reign for thirty years, until he too went to jail in August, 1941. The day before he surrendered to serve his sentence, Nucky threw a party and married his long time girlfriend, showgirl Florence “Flossie” Osbeck.

When he got out of jail four years later, Nucky Johnson became just an ordinary citizen of Atlantic City, the guy who once owned the town, was just another guy walking down the boardwalk. The new boss, Francis Sherman “Hap” Farley inherited the political machine that Commodore Kuehnle and Nucky Johnson had assembled and he enhanced it further, maintaining his rule until 1971 when he finally lost an election.

So for the better part of a century, Atlantic City was run by three men – Commodore K, Nucky Johnson and Hap Farley, and in some ways, they were more powerful than the governor, as the city remained open for business on Sundays.

The Sundance Kid's AC Connections

The Sundance Kid & the Sting’s Atlantic City Connections

Robert Redford and Paul Newman made two memorial movies together – Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid and the Sting.

Redford played Butch Cassidy’s sidekick the Sundance Kid while Newman was Charlie Gondorf in The Sting, both historical characters with Atlantic City connections.

Gondorf, the King of the Big Con confidence men of the early part of the last century, was an Atlantic City bartender when he wasn’t playing the inside man in big time swindles as portrayed in the movie The Sting.

Then there’s the legend that Harry Longabaugh – the Sundance Kid, was from Atlantic City, which turns out to be partially true.

In the movie Butch Cassidy & Sundance Kid, there’s a scene where they get off a train in a desolate place in South America, and Butch Cassidy, whose idea it was to go there, says, “It could be worse. You get a lot more for your money in Bolivia, I know, I checked it out.”

The Sundance Kid then responds, “This might be the garden spot of the whole country. People may travel hundreds of miles just to get to this spot where we’re standing now. This might be the Atlantic City of all Bolivia for all we know.”

Cassidy says, “Look, now I know a lot more about Bolivia than you know about Atlantic City, New Jersey, I can tell you that.”

“Ah, ha! you do, huh?” says the Kid. “I was born there. I was born in New Jersey. Brought up there.”

Incredulously, Butch Cassidy looks up, “You’re from the east? I didn’t know that.”

Donna and Paul Ernst, who lived in Ocean City, NJ, saw the movie and didn’t think anything about it, but were startled when they read a National Geographic Magazine article “The Outlaw Trail,” by Robert Redford, in which he mentions that the Sundance Kid’s real name was Harry Alonzo Longabaugh. And there is a town in Wyoming near the Hole in the Wall canyon where they hung out called Atlantic City.

“Well, Longabaugh isn’t exactly Smith,” said Donna Ernest, who wrote to the magazine, whose historian sent her a detailed Longabaugh family history that showed that the Sundance Kid was the brother of Paul Ernst’s great-grandfather.

Paul then remembered his “grandpop” at a holiday dinner if the family was interested in hearing the story of his “uncle Harry, who had a sidekick, and were like Jesse James. They robbed banks and gave it to poor people, and died in South America.”

But then he said, “Na, isn’t anyone’s business, forget it.”

His grandfather repeated the story a number of times over the years, but the family just thought he was out of his head, and he was senile when he died in March, 1976.

Unfortunately, Grandpop went to his grave with the details of the story of his “Uncle Henry,” the Sundance Kid. “He never told anyone all he knew,” said Donna, “and he died in silence, taking his memories with him.”

Once intrigued however, Paul and Donna took up the trail of the outlaws and learned a lot over the following twenty years.
Harry Alonzo Longabaugh – aka the Sundance Kid, was not actually born in Atlantic City, as the movie attests, but rather in Mont Clare, on the Schuylkill Canal in Pennsylvania.

According to Donna Ernst, “Because Mont Clare, Pennsylvania is extremely small, historians thought it was actually Mont Clare, New Jersey, and that assumption eventually caused the line in the movie where Redford, as the Sundance Kid, claims he was born in Atlantic City.”

Harry – the Sundance Kid, had a brother Harvey, who did live in Atlantic City, and is credited with helping to build the first boardwalk. Since his brother had a place at the Shore, Harry frequently visited him, and thus the Atlantic City connection was firmly established.

Becoming entranced with the subject, Donna and Paul began an intense search of family history in order to learn as much about Harry Longabaugh as they could, digging through old family and official records. According to Donna, “We discovered a Conrad Longabaugh had immigrated to Philadelphia on December 24, 1772, aboard the brig Morning Star. He fought in the Revolutionary War and then raised his family in Eastern Pennsylvania. His descendants eventually settled in Mont Clare, where during the spring of 1867, Harry Alongzo Longabaugh was born.”

On August 30, 1882 the restless fourteen year old Harry left to go West with some cousins in a covered wagon, eventually settling in Cortez, Colorado, where they lived for four years. After working a cattle drive to Montana in 1886, he went to the Black Hills area, where at Sundance, Wyoming, on February 27, 1887, he allegedly stole a light grey horse, a gun and a saddle form an employee of the VVV Ranch. After being caught, the 20 year old attempted to escape by jumping off a train, but was recaptured. The local Yellowstone Journal newspaper compared him to Jesse James and attributed some other local crimes to him. In response, from the Sundance jail, he wrote a letter to the editor.

“In your issue of the 7th, I read a very sensational and partly untrue article, which places me before the public not even second to the notorious Jesse James. Admitting that I have done nothing wrong and expecting to be dealt with according to the law and not by false reports from parties who should blush with shame to make them, I ask a little of your space to set my case before the public in a true light. In the first place, I have always worked for an honest living…and was arrested…and charged with having stolen a horse at Sundance, where I was being taken by Sheriff Ryan, whom I escaped from by jumping from the cars, which I judged were running at the rate of 100 miles an hour. After this my course of outlawry commenced, and I suffered terribly for the want of food in the hope of getting back south without being detected, where I would be looked upon as I always have been, and not as a criminal. Contrary to the statement in the Journal, I deny having stolen any horses in Canada, or anyplace else, up to the time I was captured, at which time I was riding a horse which I bought and paid for. Nor had I the slightest idea of stealing any horses. I am aware that some of your readers will say my statement should be taken or what it is worth, on account of the hard name which has been forced upon me, nevertheless it is true. As for my recapture by Deputy Sheriff Davis, all I can say is that he did his work well and were it not for him ‘playing possum’ I would now be on my way south, where I had hoped to go and live a better life.” Signed Harry Lonabaugh.

When Harry Lonabaugh got out of jail the newspaper reported, “the kid has been released from Sundance,” and the Sundance Kid was born.

As Donna Ernst relates, “Stealing horses soon became robbing banks and holding up trains. Sundance and his pal Butch Cassidy were the leaders of a loose-knit group of thieves better known as the Wild Bunch. And together these men were so skilled at escaping the law that the American Bankers Association and the Union Pacific Railroad hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency to capture them – at any cost.”

There's no evidence, despite his reputation as a gunfighter, that the Sundance Kid ever shot or killed anyone.

In the course of their two decades long quest to learn as much as possible about their renegade relation, Donna and Paul spent their summer vacations traveling the West’s “Outlaw Trails,” where they visited banks their great-uncle once robbed and the cabins in the mountains where they hid out from the law.

They also found another Atlantic City connection – Atlantic City, Wyoming, one of the ghost towns near Hole-in-the-Wall Wyoming.

They trailed the Wild Bunch to Fort Worth, Texas, where the gang regrouped and had the famous photograph taken. “Sundance and Butch saw their way of life changing before their eyes,” Donna relates. “Their fellow outlaws were all being killed or caught and jailed. It was time to move on, to take a trip to South America, and to start a new life. So the Wild Bunch met in Fort Worth for a good-bye celebration. One of the things they did was have their picture taken together, but unknown to them, the photographer placed the picture on display in his window, where it was seen by a Wells Fargo detective who recognized one of the men.”

With the heat hot on their tail, says Donna, “the Sundance Kid returned home with his wife, Ethel Place, to see his family, brother Harvey and his sisters Samanna and Emma, and meet his nieces and nephews, some born in his absence. Then he explained his decision to move to South America and told his family he was going to settle down, buy a ranch and go straight.”

According to the reports of the Pinkerton Detectives who were after him, Sundance and Ethel were seen “frolicking” at the beach in Atlantic City, where the Sundance Kid’s brother Harvey lived at the time. “We suspect they visited Harvey’s family at the beach,” says Donna, “and at that time Grandpop was about eleven years old.”

According to the legend, and the movie, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid fled to South America and were the two American bandits killed in a shootout in San Vicente, Bolivia on November 8, 1908.

But Lula Parker Betenson, Butch Cassidy’s sister, wrote a book Butch Cassidy, My Brother (Bringham Young Press, 1975) in which she claims her brother returned home years after he was reported killed in South America, and told the family that he last saw the Sundance Kid and Ethel Place at a bullfight in Mexico City.

In 1991, research historian Dan Buck and Anthropologist Dr. Clyde Snow exhumed the bodies of the “bandito Yankees,” killed an buried in San Vicente, Bolivia, and conducted DNA tests to match genetic material with descendants of Cassidy and Longabaugh. The negative results left the case open to historical debate as to whether Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were killed in South America or merely encouraged the rumors of their death in order to get the Pinkertons off their trail and to start a new life outside of crime.

As a result of their research and travels, Donna Ernst wrote a book, Sundance – My Uncle (Creative Publishing Co, Box 9292, College Station, Tx., 77842, 1992), which chronicles the full story of Harry Alonzo Longabaugh, at least what could be learned today.

At a meeting of Western Outlaw-Lawmen History Association, Donna Ernst said, “While I am not a professional writer, I don’t mind doing a lot of research. I have mixed my desire for accuracy and my access to private family information together with the historical details of Sundance’s life. In the process I have found some new information, and have tried to correct a few inaccuracies.”

Harry Longabaugh, Will Carver, Ben Kilpatrick, Harvey Logan, Butch Cassidy.
Photo Courtesy of Union Pacific Railroad Museum


Next: CHARLIE GONDORF – THE STING’S ATLANTIC CITY CONNCTION

The Sting's Charlie Gondorff in Atlantic City

Sunday, June 26, 2011

"Lady" Sings with the Piano Man



Print by Pontella, artafact1@hotmal.com

Legendary Somers Point Bartender Charles Carney

\

Carney, Charles F. 77 of Somers Point, died peacefully on February 18, 2006. His daughter Colleen, a son-in-law David, Carole and his pal Andrew were at his side.

Charles was a legendary bartender in the Somers Point area. He began his career at Steel's Ship Bar, went on to Mac's, Gregory', Mothers's, The Med., The Shangra-Laa, Crab Trap and the world famous Anchorage.

Chrales is the brother of the late Frank. He is survived by his brother George (Violet)of Collingswood, NJ; his childrean Charles and Sean of Miami Beach, Fl. Colleen (David) McIlroy of Sunset Beach, CA and his partner and soul mate Carole Rubino of Somers Point. Relatives and friends are invited to his viewing Wednesday, Feb. 22, 2006 from 9:30 to 11 Am,m St. Joseph Church, 612 Shore Raod, Somers Point. Followed by a Mass of Christian Burial at 11AM. Interment Seaside Chemetery. In lieu of flowers the family requests memorial contributions to the DOn MacBeth Memorial Jocky Fund, P.O. Box 18470. Encino, CA 91419. Arrangements by Terranova Funeral Home Inc. www.terranovafunderalhome.com

POSTED BY BILL KELLY AT 11:55 PM
LABELS: AND CARLTON DRINKARD AND CHARLES CARNEY

Saturday, June 25, 2011

On Tour w/ "Lady Day" Billie Holiday




Above with Louie Armstrong in New Orleans (Popsie Randolph Collection)

Below with Claude Hopkins on piano.





On Tour With Billie Holiday, Carlton Drinkard and Charles Carney

For one night I got a brief glimpse of what it might have been like to be on tour with Billie Holiday. At least it was as close to being on tour with her as you can get without resurrecting the lady herself.

It’s quite fitting that she is still making waves in Philadelphia, where she caused so much controversy so long ago.

Today all the fuss is being kicked up by Ann Duquesnay, an actress who can sing while portraying the first lady of jazz at the newly renovated Theater of the Living Arts on Philadelphia’s South Street.

A review of opening night was discarded in favor of an off-night show accompanied by Carlton Drinkard, the Atlantic City piano player and casino host who fingered Holiday’s ivory keys for over a decade. Drinkard, I thought, would be the ultimate judge of the show’s veracity.

Carlton doesn’t play piano anymore. He’s been working as a casino host at Harrah’s Marina casino in Atlantic City. I met him through John Colianni, a local piano player who once took lessons from Drinkard, so I knew that Carlton kept his hands in the music even though he didn’t play much anymore.

I met Colianni playing piano at the Bay Club, now Steve & Cookies, the former Strotbeck’s private club in Margate. My friend and bartender and Holiday affectionato Charles Carney told me about Colianni, and how great he was, but I had to see for myself, and after listening to him play for awhile, we talked and I asked him about his connection to Drinkard. Why he would introduce me to him, and shortly thereafter I met Carlton Drinkard himself.

Short, thin and well dressed in suit and tie, Drinkard shook hands with an acquard twist of his arm, that also made him take a drink with his elbo in the air.

Drinkard, in a deep rapsey voice, said to ignore everything that’s in the autobiography she wrote, and the movie based on the book, as they are fiction. As Carlton explained, the piano man in the movie, a character partially based on him, is murdered. “I ain’t dead,” Drinkard said, but did explain that mobsters broke his arm, an injury that prevents him from playing professionally anymore.

The revival of interest in Billie Holiday and her music has been smoldering for years, first with the popular movie staring Diana Ross, “Lady Sings the Blues,” and then there’s the release of two major theatrical productions based on Holiday’s music, including the off-broadway show, ‘Billie Holiday at Emerson’s Bar & Grill” and “Lady Day.”

Both shows were written by Philadelphians, and Emerson’s Bar & Grill is where Holiday performed in Philadelphia when she was arrested.

While “Lady Day” was the rage of the Paris and London theater season last year, a British company produced a documentary on her life that was shown on public television, generating even more interest in her life and music.

“Round Midnight,” a great artsy film about expatriate American jazz musicians living in Paris also features a character based on Holiday, continuing the revival.

So when “Lady Day” finally returned to Philadelphia, I figured it would be appropriate to see it with Carlton Drinkard, along with his prize student John Colianni and Charles Carney, the distinguished Somers Point bartender and Holiday affectionate who introduced me to them.

I got tickets for all of us, and we were going to go first class and take a limo, but when Colianni had to work that night, we were left with two extra tickets and I drove. I picked up Charles and Carlton, and at their instruction, we stopped at the High Point Inn on the White Horse Pike in Absecon for a short bottle of whiskey they shared on the ride to Philly.

On the way, I asked drunkard his opinion of the book, the movie, the plays and the British TV documentary, and he said that they were all flawed, mixing myths, lies, legends and factual mistakes, and in some cases intentional misrepresentations.

The popular myths of Billie Holiday are so distanced from reality that Drinkard said he once considered a libel suit to set the record straight. Only the music, he said, especially her voice, on the old, classic recordings, maintains the truth.

The libel suit, Drinkard said, involved the movie, “Lady Sings the Blues,” in which Richard Pryor plays the piano man, a character based in part on Drinkard. At least the part in which he is killed is related to Drinkard’s experience, but he balks, “I ain’t dead,” he protests, like a later day Mark Twain, who said the rumors of his demise were greatly exaggerated.

The British documentary, Drinkard said, was soft on music and hard on her problems, dwelling too much on the negative aspects of her life. “But that’s what sells shows,” he shrugged.

As for the off-Broadway production of “Billie Holiday at Emerson’s Bar & Grill,” well Colianni had seen it and didn’t like it so he never bothered to go to New York to catch it.

“Lady Day” was something else however, and he had heard some good things about it, so the expedition was a night on the town that he was looking forward to.

From the back seat of my car, Carlton Drinkard regaled us with colorful first-person accounts of his life with Billie Holiday, explaining that he first met her in 1949 in Washington D.C. where he was playing piano in a small club to pay his way through Howard University.

“I was going to go on to medical school, and be a doctor,” Drinkard explained, “until I met Lady. She changed my whole life around.”

“I was only 19 at the time,” he said, “but she was already a big, big star. She had apparently heard me play before, and called the club I was working and asked me to play for her while she was in town.”

“I told her no at first, although it was a great honor to be asked,” he said, noting that he was afraid that if it didn’t work out he would have been out of his regular job as well.

“A short while later a big limo pulled up out front and Lady gets out and come up to me and says, ‘Carl, I need you tonight. I’ll buy out your contract, what is it? $5,000?’ But I didn’t have a contract, so I went with her.”

Drinkard said that when he got to the theater where Holiday was performing, he just winged it, and when it was over, she came out of her dressing room and said, “I want you to be my piano player,” and they never looked back.

Born in Baltimore on April 7, 1915, Eleanora “Billie” Holiday was the daughter of a maid and an itinerant banjo-guitarist Clarence Holiday, who was forever on the road with big bands like Fletcher Henderson and McKinney’s Cotton Pickers. As a child she ran messages for Alice Dean, a madam whose gramophone introduced Billlie to Bessie Smith, Louis Armstrong and singers her father performed with.

After moving to New York with her mother in 1929 she began singing in obscure Harlem clubs where she was discovered by John Hammond, an A & R (Artist & Repertoire) scout for Columbia Records who also “discovered” other talents like Bob Dylan and Bruce Sprinsteen. Hammond had an ear for good music, recognized Holiday’s voice was totally unique, and took her to his brother-in-law, Benny Goodman, who recorded with her in 1933.

Among the musicians she met through Hammond were Goodman’s pianist Teddy Wilson, and saxophonist Lester Young, of the Count Basie band, who dubbed her “Lady Day” because she refused to take tips from customer’s tables. She went off with the refined gentleman who handed her the most, Lewis McKay, a character portrayed by Billy Dee Williams in the movie, “Lady Sings the Blues.”

McKay later lived with his second wife in Camden, New Jersey, and died in Ventnor a few years ago. Both Wilson, who also played with his family jazz band in Atlantic City, and Hammond died recently.

After becoming a sensation on her own, Holiday was arrested for heroin possession, served time in jail, and died while being hospitalized, and awaiting charges of drug possession when narcotics were found under her pillow by a nurse.

Carlton Drinkard believes that the social service system failed her, and that if it happened today, she would have survived because her addiction would have been treated as a medical problem, rather than a legal one. “Today, a nurse would go to the doctor, not the police, and the doctor would have prescribed methadone or something,” Carlton said.

Shortly before she died, Drinkard said that he called her in New York from Atlantic City and she asked him to go with her on one more tour to London and Paris, where she felt more appreciated. “I said, okay, Lady, I’ll go on one more tour if you insist, but that was the last I heard from her.”

By the time we pulled into center city Philadelphia it was raining, so I dropped them off at this Mexican place next to the theater and drove around to park the car. I did find a parking spot close to the theater, which had previously shown classic films but had been recently converted into the Theater of the Living Arts by local promoters Allen and Herb Spivak and Larry Magid, who also ran the Electric Factory concerts company.

To them this small, 400 seat theater is an attempt to revive live, legitimate theater, to enhance the arts as a public service and give those who can appreciate real culture a place to go. And “Lady Day” is the first trail product of the new order of things.

Since Colianni and his wife couldn’t make it, I gave the tickets to a young couple who were walking down South street in the rain. They later wrote me a note saying what a wonderful time they had.

The production’s Philadelphia based writer and director Stephen Stahl met us at the door, noting that the star, Ann Duquesnay would like to meet Carlton Drinkard after the show. Our seats were prime, front and center, but Charles was absent, and we didn’t know where he went until the show was about to begin and Carney waltzed in, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and walked up and placed them on stage for the star of the show.

On stage the set included the band’s instruments and some packing crates, stenciled with the words: BILIE HOLIDAY ON TOUR.

After the band came out and started to warm up a bit, as if to practice, Ann Duquesnay entered the scene in a rain coat and folding an umbrella, as if the had just came in out of the rain.

Set in London near the end of her life, “Lady Day,” as written by Stahl, has Holiday arriving late for rehearsal on the day of her last London performance. While the early monologue weaves the strands of her tragic personal drama, its where the supporting actors are most vulnerable to tripping.

There’s Andrew Boyer, her manager-producer who is trying to yell at her for being late for rehearsal, but how to you yell at Billie Holiday?

Boyer’s real life counterpart, John Hammond, I think, would have been soft spoken and coaxed her.

The childhood retros are necessary to et across the background of her life, and the adolescent fantasies give literal meaning to the cliché “you have to live the blues to sing the blues,” but after awhile you just want to hear her sing.

Through “A Foggy Day in London Town,” “Swing Brother Swing,” “Miss Brown to You,” “Give Me a Pigfoot,” “All of Me” and “Them There Eyes,” you have a selection of Holiday numbers that should satisfy the Holiday buff as well as well as those who thought Billie was a guy.

The retrospection about her life between songs in the first act brings out the strong dramatic background that Duquesnay brings to the show, and for the uninitiated, introduces Holiday’s own background without being too overbearing.

After singing, “Lady Sings the Blues,” “Lover Man,” “You’re Mother’s Son-In-Law,” there’s her signature song, “Strange Fruit,” Holiday’s anti-segregationist anthem which Drinkard says she always sang at the end of the set, and which appropriately concludes Act One.

After the intermission lights went on, Charles introduced Carlton to the young couple who used John Colianni’s seats, and after a few seconds of muffled small talk, Charles grabbed Drinkard by the arm and escorted him to the front door, talking and shaking a cigarette in his hand.

“Did he really know Billie Holiday?” the girl asked, while her boyfriend wanted to know, “Did they really go next door for a drink?”

When Carlton Drinkard returned, before I could ask him his opinion of the show so far, the curtain went up and Holiday was decked out in her gown, white gloves and guardenias in her hair, ready to sing. Her voice is all that we have left of the real Lady Day, that’s what made her famous, and that’s the vehicle that this whole production is riding on.

“My Man,” “God Bless the Child,” “Good Morning Heartache,” “Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone,” “Ain’t No Body’s Business But My Own,” “Billie’s Blues,” “When You’re Smiling,” and “What A Little Moonlight Can Do,” all showed us tht Duquesnay is a fine singer who does justice to Lady Day.

Although she did break up some of the concert songs with some ramblings about her bust in Philadelphia, it’s the songs and the singing that give Act Two its magic, with such tunes as “Mean To Me,” “You’ve Changed,” Don’t Explain,” “I Can’t Get Started Without You,” “Violents For My Furs,” and “I’m Pulling Through.”

From an audience of applause I could distinguish Charlie’s cheers, and regardless of what Carlton’s opinion was, I really liked the show.

The college kids stuck around after the shown and quizzed Carlton, and I could overhear him setting them straight, “She wasn’t really a blues singer, only had about two real blues songs in her entire repertoire. She was a jazz singer, and she didn’t play around. She was faithful to her husbands,” he said, stretching the plural.

Then when the band came out, their eyes lit up when they heard Carlton Drinkard was there, and that he worked with Holiday and knew the songs, and wanted to know how they were arranged and if they were doing them right.

The musical director and pianist William D. Jolly shook Drinkard’s hand as Carlton said, “You boys were great. I don’t believe how much I really liked the show.”

As Jolly’s brother, bass player Elton Brett, and drummer Johnnie Croom crowed around to hear Drinkard talk, he answered Jolly’s question, “You know that one song where you drop a beat? Well that’s supposed to be a faster tempo,” and “I know you can do it, because I heard you do it, you guys are good.”

I thought they could have been given more play, taking some of the burdon off Duquesnay and putting the spotlight on each musician for a solo, but that was just my thoughts.

Not wanting to be too critical, Drinkard said, “but you guys don’t want to hear that.”

“Yes we do,” Jolly replied, “we want to know the way you did it. We weren’t there, so it’s up to you to tell us.”

When Duquesnay came out, dressed as a pedestrian, holding Carney’s flowers, she came up to Drinkard and hugged him saying, “Thank you for the flowers, they’re wonderful.”

Carlton looked at Carney as if to say, “Flowers, what flowers,” as Charles had put Drinkard’s name on the tag, giving him credit.

“You are what’s wonderful,” Drinkard told the talented singer and actress from North Carolina. “Every once in awhile I caught a glimpse of Lady that sent a shiver up my spine.”

After a photo was taken of Drinkard with Duquesnay and the band, she was introduced to Charles Carney, who has a fascination for Billie Holiday’s music, and Charles held open the door for her as she opened her umbrella and walked out into the South Street rain.

Carlton, I asked, cutting through the myth, the lies and wrong beats, does she have the flavor, the spirit of Lady Day?

“Yes,” he said, smiling, “she’s got it.”

Just as I thought the night was over, and Carlton was saying to Charles, “why didn’t you tell me you sent her flowers in my name?,” Carney said, “Let’s go back to Atlantic City where I know where there’s a young girl who sings in a casino lounge who will make you cry.”

Billkelly3@gmail.com

Carney, Charles F. 77 of Somers Point, died peacefully on February 18, 2006. His daughter Colleen, a son-in-law David, Carole and his pal Andrew were at his side.

Charles was a legendary bartender in the Somers Point area. He began his career at Steel's Ship Bar, went on to Mac's, Gregory', Mothers's, The Med., The Shangra-Laa, Crab Trap and the world famous Anchorage.

Chrales is the brother of the late Frank. He is survived by his brother George (Violet) of Collingswood, NJ; his childrean Charles and Sean of Miami Beach, Fl. Colleen (David) McIlroy of Sunset Beach, CA and his partner and soul mate Carole Rubino of Somers Point. Relatives and friends are invited to his viewing Wednesday, Feb. 22, 2006 from 9:30 to 11 Am,m St. Joseph Church, 612 Shore Raod, Somers Point. Followed by a Mass of Christian Burial at 11AM. Interment Seaside Chemetery. In lieu of flowers the family requests memorial contributions to the DOn MacBeth Memorial Jocky Fund, P.O. Box 18470. Encino, CA 91419. Arrangements by Terranova Funeral Home Inc. www.terranovafunderalhome.com

John Colianni




John Colianni http://www.allaboutjazz.com/php/musician.php?id=5824

Born: January 7, 1963 Instrument: Piano

John Colianni grew up in the Washington, D.C. metro area and first heard Jazz on swing-era LP re-issues (Ellington, Goodman, Jimmie Lunceford, Count Basie, Armstrong, etc.) in his parents' home. A performance by Teddy Wilson in Washington attended by John when he was about 12 years old also left a strong impression, as did a Duke Ellington performance.

THE QUINTET

In 2006, looking for an outlet for his high velocity piano improvisations, John formed the John Colianni Quintet. In July 2007, the group recorded its first CD, Johnny Chops (Patuxent Records), which was released this year.

LES PAUL

Les Paul offered the piano spot in his group to John in August 2003. Les had not used a pianist in his combo since the 1950s and, in looking for suitable candidates, sought the advice of guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli, who recommended John. In Les Paul's recent autobiography, “Les Paul: In His Own Words,” Les writes an appreciative description of John's playing style and musical contributions to the re-vamped Les Paul Quartet. John is also seen and heard on the PBS documentary, “Les Paul: Chasing Sound.”

PIANO INSTRUCTION

Showing keyboard aptitude, a suitable teacher for John was sought by his parents. Local musicians recommended Les Karr, who, in addition to teaching, was well known as an outstanding pianist. Weekly lessons began in the eighth grade, when John was 14. Les Karr himself studied under Teddy Wilson at Juilliard in New York. Les was also the first cousin of pianist Dick Hyman. For John's lessons, Les emphasized technique and introduced studies of the Mathe' System, a method that advances digital dexterity and maximizes the capacity for speedy, high-velocity piano playing. John, noted for fleet “chops,” often cites the important role these exercises play.

AROUND WASHINGTON

Still in high school, John began playing piano professionally on the Washington, D.C. jazz scene, which, during that period, included a number of colorful jazz clubs such as The Pigfoot, Mr. Y's Gold Room, One Step Down, Blues Alley, The Bayou, The Famous Ballroom (Baltimore), Frankie Condon's (Rockville), and other establishments.

These were John's first performance venues, and he played among veteran D.C. musicians including Ella Fitzgerald's bassist, Keter Betts, who recruited 16-year-old John for the revue “Jazz Stars Of The Future.” Jazz Studies Director George Ross recruited John, still in tenth grade, to play regularly with the University of Maryland Jazz Ensemble.

THE DUKE

An event years earlier set the stage for John's interest in music. Duke Ellington, the most celebrated musician from Washington D.C. passed through town with his orchestra. A very young John was mesmerized and afterward presented Duke with the Ellington autobiography “Music Is My Mistress,” which Duke signed with a personalized message.
(Ellington is high on the list of pianists who have influenced John. Others include Oscar Peterson, Art Tatum, Erroll Garner, George Shearing, Count Basie and Teddy Wilson.)

TOURING WITH LIONEL HAMPTON

The Coliannis relocated to the Jersey Shore during John's senior year in high school. It was there that John caught the attention of Carlton Drinkard, former accompanist to the one and only “Lady Day” Billie Holiday. Drinkard assembled John's trio, and coached him in creating new arrangements and performing before live audiences.

Soon afterward, when he was 19, John visited Lionel Hampton backstage at an Atlantic City casino. He landed a spot in Hampton's orchestra and traveled and recorded for three years with Hampton and band members that included tenor sax great Arnett Cobb, saxists Paul Jeffrey and Tom Chapin, drummers Frankie Dunlop, Oliver Jackson and Duffy Jackson, bassists George Duvivier and Arvell Shaw, and others.

THELONIUS MONK PIANO COMPETITION

Not too long after the Hampton gig, John entered and won a cash prize in the first annual Thelonius Monk Piano Competition in 1987.

WITH MEL TORME

In the 1980s, John played a variety of gigs, including a stint with the New Orleans-inspired band of movie director/clarinetist Woody Allen. Allen's band played steadily at Michael's Pub in New York, and it was there that John came to the attention of Mel Torme, who was appearing at the same club. Hearing one of John's recordings through the venue's sound system, Torme' promptly hired John as his pianist--without an audition. John worked for Torme from early 1991 to mid 1995, touring and recording six albums.

Press Quotes:

Read what the jazz world has to say about John…
“Tremendous piano jazz … a phenomenal show stopper … technical skill, warmth, application and understanding.”

Jazz Journal International (London)
“He has a smooth, light-touch style. He flies easily through intricate right-hand melodic lines, and improvises on them, and roams the bass clef with his left hand, combining basic and offbeat rhythms with rich, melodic chord patterns. His left hand harmonic structures are most impressive.”

San Francisco Examiner
“Consummate piano virtuoso … truly individual voice … unerring sense of sophisticated swing.”

Jazz Times
“Colianni's sound and conception is American to the bone; from New Orleans boogie through to jump blues, stride and Basie swing, he not only knew them all but frequently sounded like he was playing all of them at once.”

The Guardian (England)
“He is the essence of a swinging pianist … a sudden flurry of complex runs can be finished before the listener is fully aware of what is happening.”

The New York Times
“Impeccably disciplined, a limitless cauldron full of ideas … eye-opening intensity … effortless swing - Tatumesque.”

Toronto Star
“The best you'll ever hear.”

Mel Torme
“The essence of a swinging pianist … a sudden flurry of complex runs can be finished before the listener is fully aware of what is happening.”

The New York Times
“Acoustic modernist absorbing the pianism of Art Tatum and Teddy Wilson.”

Jazziz
“A brilliant pianist, composer, arranger with exquisite taste, great technique, charming, witty, he has much to bring to the table” and he's got rhythm. Who could ask for anything more?”

Jimmy Woode, bassist with Duke Ellington
“Just dig it”

Lionel Hampton
“Intriguing, eclectic”

Billboard
ENGLISH ARTICLE TRANSLATION FROM GERMAN Neue Luzerner Zeitung November 11, 2008 By David Koch

Eleven pianists brilliantly open the “Piano Off-Stage.” They all played good, stylish jazz, but one swung above the others.

. . . “Piano Off-Stage” the piano festival in a festival. Eleven pianists . . . took part this year, and as an opener, each artist presented a short sample of his/her ability. . .
A Superb John Colianni . . . In the case of one of the artists, the crowd was appropriately great: John Colianni. This lion of the keyboard from America is the year’s big draw” a pianist equally at home in the concert hall. Followers of the jazz legends Oscar Peterson and Art Tatum have to be proficient. John Colianni certainly is” such harmonic and rhythmic finesse, paired with astounding technique. Superb! So equipped, his improvisation in the first teaser appearance through stride and swing was exemplary and nicely cool.”

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

AC Boardwalk Marti Gras at Kennedy Plaza



Kennedy Plaza, outside Boardwalk Hall (old Convention Hall), between Mississippi and Georgia Avenues, is the scene of the local Mardi Gras and Chicken Bone Beach concert series this summer.

While the Chicken Bone Beach shows have been going on for a few years, the Mardi Gras is relatively new and successful because of the exceptional talent brought in by Carmen and Nancy Marotta.

Carmen literally grew up in the music business since his father was the legendary Tony Mart - Anthony Marotta, who took a small Somers Point rathskeller and made it into the "Showplace of the World."

At the same time the best acts played Steel Pier, Tony Marts nightclub in Somers Point featured top flight hit acts in a much more intimate setting.

After Tony Marts was sold, Carmen dabbled in politics for awhile, but kept his fingers in the music business by helping to book good shows for the annual Good Old Days Picnic and friday night beach concerts at the Point's municipal beach.

Although there's still some bars, clubs and cabarets that feature live bands, most of the best action is taking place out doors, in public, and they're also great places to take the family. Plus they're free, thanks to the local institutions (Like the Somers Point Recreation Dept. and Atlantic County freeholders, and sponsors), who picked up the slack to make these shows happen.

Carmen and Nancy aren't new to Atlantic City either. Actually they are coming back to the old hood, since Tony Mart got his start selling hot dogs and hoagies on the boardwalk, and his wife's family started the famous White House sub shop.

"Some of the hottest, new cutting edge music in these genres is coming out of New Orleans," says Carmen. "You have these big jam bands, like Dave Matthews and some of the other bands that are playing at the Dave Matthews Caravan, and they are influenced by and their mentors are people like the Neville Brothers and George Porter Jr."

"We're starting earlier, and we were able to build on the success of last year's shows. Last year was our first season, and we were only able to do eight, but this year, we felt confident enough to plan 13."

There's a good mixture of classic bands, like Commander Cody, Fabulous Thunderbirds, Otis Clay and Roomfull of Blues, really good local acts - (ie. Danny Eyer and Billy Walton) and some real Louisiana Legends like Cyril Neville and Terrance Simien & his Zydeco Experience.

■ June 27: Commander Cody Band.
■ July 3: Battle of the Guitar Heroes — Jersey Shore Champ Billy Walton versus Mississippi Challenger Vasti Jackson.
■ July 11: The Fabulous Thunderbirds featuring Kim Wilson.
■ July 18: The Music That Made Tony Mart’s Famous performed by the Tony Mart Allstar Band including Danny Eyer and others.
■ July 25: Cyril Neville and Tribe 13.
■ Aug. 1: The Otis Clay Band.
■ Aug. 8: Jumpin’ Johnny Sansone and his band, with special guest Susan Cowsill.
■ Aug. 15: The Soul Rebels Brass Band, The Billy Walton Band.
■ Aug. 16: Jimmy Thackery and the Drivers, The Soul Rebels Brass Band.
■ Aug. 17: Terrance Simien & the Zydeco Experience, Lil’ Martha.
■ Aug, 22: Bonerama.
■ Aug. 29: The Curtis Salgado Band.
■ Sept. 4: Roomful of Blues, Honey Island Swamp Band.

Then there's the Chicken Bone Beach jazz shows, that pick up where Kentucky Avenue left off. While Carmen tends to bring in the New Orleans style jazz, the kind that were featured at Tony Marts back in the heydey, the Chicken Bone Beach shows are more of a Big City jazz.

Chicken Bone Beach is what the locals affectionately called the beach patronized by blacks during segregation, and was popularized primarily by the bar tenders, waitresses, cooks and musicians from the Kentucky Avenue Clubs who had been up all night. Sammy Davis Jr., his mom, Dizzy and Duke were all there, and the chicken came primarily from Jimmy's Joint, just across the street from the legendary Club Harlem, now a parking lot.

Date / Time HEADLINERS 8:30 to 10 PM ARTIST 7 to 8 PM

July 7 Bootsie Barnes & Friends Dahi Divine Legacy Quintet
July 14 Dave Valentin ZAMAR featuring Keith Hollis
July 21 Barbara Walker Eddie Morgan REK'D 4 Jazz
July 28 Monnette Sudler Tony Day Quartet
August 4 Dominick Farinacci CBB Youth Jazz Ensemble
August 11 Tia Fuller Budesa Brothers Trio
August 18 Helen Sung Dwain Davis Quartet


Concert funded in part by the NJ State Council of the Arts/Department of State through the Atlantic County Office of Cultural & Heritage Affairs, Comcast, Harrah's Entertainment, PNC Bank, Kinematica Inc, Kramer Beverage Co. COORS, Atlantic City Electric, Just 4 Wheels, Atlantic City Convention Center, City of Atlantic City and ZEO Brothers - Tune in to Stockton College Radio Station WLFR – 91.7 Wednesdays Chicken Bone Beach hour 7 to 8 PM Phone: 609) 441-9064 or (609) 841-6897 Email: chickenbonebeach@juno.com Visit our websites: www.chickenbonebeach.org Atlantic City Free Public Library or www.acfpl.org 609-345-2269 http://www.chickenbonebeach.org/schedule-summer.html

Then there's the Somers Point Beach concerts, which start at 7pm every Friday night all summer long. Don Kinsey and the Kinsey Report kicked things off last Friday. Just bring a beach chair and sit back and enjoy.

19th Annual Somers Point Beach Concert Series

June 24 The Eric Lindell Band:
National recording Artist Singer Songwriter, Guitarist Hot from New Orleans!

July 1 The Jeremiah Hunter Band:
Premiere Rock ‘n Roll Party Dance Band featuring members from The Soul Survivors and Fullhouse

July 4 (Monday) The Bob Campanell Band with Danny Eyer:
Our own Jersey Shore Rock ‘n Roll Pop Icon with his favorite lead guitarist

July 8 Jim Morris & The Big Bamboo Band:
Caribbean Key West Melodies from Radio Margaritaville

July 15 The Billy Walton Band:
Searing Rock Guitarist from South Side Johnny’s Asbury Jukes

July 22 Edgardo Cintron Band with Dane Anthony
Latin Sounds with a Tribute to Santana

July 29 Dr Bobby Fingers with “Ernie T” Trionfo:
Popular Music Sing a Long Party with sizzling lead guitar

August 5 Jumpin’ Johnny Sansone with Special Guest Susan Cowsill:
New Orleans Rhythm & Blues & Louisiana Rock 'n Roll

August 12 Kenny Neal and His Band:
World Renown Award Winning Blues & Roots Recording Artist

August 19 Curtis Salgado Soul Band:
The Man who taught the Blues to the Blues Brothers with his World Class 9 Piece Big Band

August 26 The Reba Russell Band:
Tennessee Country Blues Diva from Beale Street

September 2 The Terry Hanck Band:
World Class Honky Tonkin’ Roots Rock Saxophonist/Lead Singer

September 9 Ed Vezinho/Jim Ward Big Band with Rosemary Benson:
16 Piece Contemporary Big Band with Sensational Vocal Styling

Begins June 17th At The William Morrow Beach / Municipal Beach Park, Located Between Higbee And New Jersey Aves On Bay Ave in Somers Point. Free shows Fridays Start At 7PM, From The Third Friday In June Until The Second Friday in September. Hosted By: The Somers Point Recreation Department.

Visit www.somerspointbeachconcerts.com for photos, video clips & more.

A Night on the Town w/ The Lizard King



A Night On The Town With The Lizard King –
Atlantic City’s Paparazzi Queen’s First Celebrity Affair – By Bill Kelly

Until she saw Oliver Stone movie “The Doors,” Miss L - the Paparazzi Queen believed Jim Morrison was still alive and living out his true ambition as an anonymous poet.

Now she thinks he’s dead.

As she left the theater after seeing the film she said, ‘The Jim Morrison I knew was quiet and reserved, only drank beer, smoked cigarettes and was a bad dancer.”

Although she only knew him for one day and night, she thought she had a unique insight into the man. Now she says, “I must have caught him on an off night.”

Miss L., who worked at an Atlantic City casino when I first met her, takes pictures of celebrities as a hobby. She prefers to remain anonymous herself because of the sensitivity of her job and a penchant for crashing casino VIP parties.

That’s where I met her, at an “invitation only” VIP party at the Trump Plaza casino shortly before the Tyson-Spinks fight. I had seen her before at other events, and thought she was either a gossip reporter or a hanger on. On this night she was standing by the flood light lit door next to Bill McCullough, the Dean of Atlantic City Paparazzi. I took a picture of them both, then introduced them, not really appreciating the significance of the moment at the time.

All the locals in Atlantic City know Bill McCullough, son of Marie McCullough, whose modeling school has produced beauty queens and fashion models, and his photos of celebrities are well published in local and national newspapers and magazines. http://www.flickr.com/photos/masterpieceadvertising/5283545299/in/photostream

But nobody knows the Paparazzi Queen, although she has photos of herself with Rod Stewart, Don Johnson, Mike Tyson and every other celebrity who has visited Atlantic City. They don’t know here, and her employers don’t know she does this, and she prefers it that way.

She doesn’t even have a professional camera, but a simple Instamatic, aim and shoot.

“I’m not a groupie,” she says emphatically, “or somebody who sleeps with rock stars. There’s nothing sexual about it.”

She’s just a paparazzi – someone who takes pictures of celebrities, but she does it for herself, not to make money as a professional.

“I just get close to them and snap their picture, or sometimes get someone to take a picture of me with someone famous.”

Jumping quickly to the chase, she says emphatically, ‘I didn’t have sex with Jim Morrison. ” Then after a pause and a smile, “but I wish I did.”

She denies an intimate relationship with the rock star, the self-proclaimed Lizard King, despite the fact that one of the two photos she has of them together shows them on a bed in her Miami, Florida hotel room.

She met Morrison during the summer before his death, and the photos she has of him were taken with an old, early model, black and white Polaroid Land camera, prints of which have held up remarkably well. More recently she used a 35 mm automatic camera to take pictures of Rod Stewart, Axl Rose and the Rolling Stones.

She once got a job as an extra on the set of a Miami Vice shoot just to get close to Don Johnson, and she moved to Atlantic City in order to rub elbows with the rich and famous, and take their pictures for her private collection.

Rummaging through her pocket book she comes out with a booklet of photos featuring starts she’s met in Atlantic City. There’s her and Mike, her and the Donald, her and Don Johnson. “I have a chest full of photos,” she says, flipping through the booklet, “but these are the best, my favorites.”

And Jim was the first. “I’ll never forget him. He changed my life.”

She said that they met late in the summer of 1970 at the bar of the Carillon Hotel in Miami Beach, Florida, where Morrison was on trial for obscenity stemming from a concert that got out of hand a year before.
http://www.miamibeachrealestateblog.us/2009/03/24/canyon-ranch-miami-beach-north-tower-release review/http://www.flickr.com/photos/masterpieceadvertising/5283545299/in/photostream

The general scene was portrayed vividly by Jerry Hopkins and Danny Sugerman in their biography of Morrison, “Nobody Gets Out Alive,” when they wrote, “The temperature and humidity were both close to the 100 mark, and without the rich winter tourists Miami rattled with emptiness and the big hotels on the beach looked like tombstones. Jim was standing in front of the Carillon Hotel, a medium-priced tombstone with a beige marble lobby, crystal chandeliers, and an activity board by the swimming pool. So far his stay in Florida had been uneventful. Sunday he had wanted to see a jai alai game, but was told the courts were closed for the summer, so he went to the dog races instead. The rest of the time he stayed close to the hotel, lying by the pool and drinking in the air-conditioned bar…” http://www.amazon.com/Doors-Here-Alive-Tribute-Morrison/dp/B00005V9HB


As Miss L, the Paparazzi Queen remembers, she went to the Carillon Hotel to apply for a job. She was staying in an apartment around the corner, but because it was off-season, there weren’t many people around, and jobs were scarce.

The hotel lobby was practically empty, except for some old people lounging around and one young guy who struck up a conversation with her, as there was no one else around.

“We started talking about the Doors because the trial was in the news and everybody was talking about it.” http://www.beachedmiami.com/2010/09/20/day-jim-morrison-convicted-indecent-exposure-sept-20-1970/

“And he tells me that Morrison is staying at the hotel. He said he was a friend of Morrison, and in fact, Jim was sitting at the hotel bar at the moment. Did I want to meet him?”

“I was 18 years old at the time, and he asked me if I wanted to meet Jim Morrison, the most famous rock star in the world. Of course I wanted to meet him, so I said yes, and we went into the bar where he was the only customer. The guy introduced us and we sat there at the bar and just talked for awhile.”

Jim said:
What are you doing here?
What do you want?
Is it music?
We can play music.
But you want more.
You want something & someone new.
Am I right?
Of course I am.
You want ecstasy
Desire & dreams.
Things not exactly what they seem.
I lead you this way, he pulls that way.
I'm not singing to an imaginary girl.
I'm talking to you, my self.
Let's recreate the world…

She said Morrison didn’t spruce up or trim up, or put on a special suit for the trial. He wore his hair long and had a scruffy beard – his ‘Jesus Christ’ look, perfect for the trial.

“He had on a white cotton shirt, open at the collar, black leather pants and vest, and boots,” the outfit he usually war, on and off stage. http://www.washingtonsquares.com/jim.html

“I told him I had seen him perform at the Spectum in Philly a few weeks before,” she continues, “but he wasn’t impressed. He said he’d never go to a rock concert if he didn’t have to. He wouldn’t like being around all those people, pushing and shoving. And then he looked at the other guy and asked him if he would ever go to a rock concert? The other guy nodded in agreement, and I still don’t know who the other guy was or his name, but he wasn’t a member of the band.”

See: Doors at the Spectrum , May 1970 http://www.doorshistory.com/doors1970.html

“It was in the afternoon, and we were just talking, and after awhile Jim says he wanted to take a walk. So the three of us went outside and went for a walk around the neighborhood, down Collins Avenue.”

“I was in ecstasy. Here I was walking down the street with Jim Morrison, the most famous rock star in the world, the guy on trial and on ever newspaper, radio and TV in America and probably the world, and I was walking down the street with him. I tried to be cool, and not treat him with awe, and it was hard, but no one on the street even recognized him.

Jim said:
The day I left the beach…
Now I can't walk thru a city
street w/out eying each
single pedestrian. I feel
their vibes thru my
skin, the hair on my neck
-it rises.

“Eventually we walked past my apartment, actually a dumpy rooming house, and I invited them up to my place, where we just sat around and talked. Jim smoked cigarettes, finished the pack and put it in an ashtray on my dresser. A neighbor came buy, a young guy who lived there, and I introduced them saying, “This is my new friend, Jim Morrison.”

“Jim Morrison, hea?,” he said, and the four of us just sat around and talked for awhile. I didn’t even ask him for an autograph or anything. But eventually I asked Jim if I could take his picture, and took out my camera. I took two pictures of Jim sitting on the bed, and then one of the other guys took one of me and Jim together. Jim then personally inscribed one.”

“Jim smoked the whole time, but he was actually very quiet and reserved, very polite and he didn’t put any moves on me. He was a gentleman the entire time I was with him.”

“Then before they left they asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner with them that night.”

“Once they were gone, I picked up the empty Marlboro pack off the dresser and kept it, you know, as a keepsake. I still have it. My family kids me about it, but to me, you know, it’s a rock and roll relic. It’s meaningful to me and a link to him somehow.”

Later on in the afternoon, after sprucing up, she went over to their hotel. “Then we walked to this fancy French restaurant, where we sat outdoors on a terrace overlooking the ocean.”

“After dinner we all piled into this rented car, six of us, four guys and two girls. It was pretty tight, but I felt comfortable with them sitting in the back seat with the other girl, a blonde.”

As she explained it, “Jim insisted on driving, even though the others protested slightly, saying something about his license, and I quickly understood why. He drove like a wild maniac down Collins Avenue and thru the streets of Miami Beach. We kept asking him to slow down, and I was scarred, even though I was in the back seat, but he made it an exciting day.”

“Eventually we ended up at this famous bar, not a disco, but a Go-Go bar called the Castaways, that isn’t there anymore. We parked and went to the door where they asked us for IDs and charged and admission. I showed them my ID and then the guy recognizes Jim and said something like, ‘You’re Jim Morrison of the Doors!, right?’”

Castaways:http://www.tikiroom.com/tikicentral/bb/viewtopic.php?topic=31947&forum=2&start=15&38&PHPSESSID=f11e575a825ce6e81bdab483b2a964fc

“But once we got into the club, even though it was crowded, nobody recognized Jim or bothered us.”

“We got a table and Jim had a beer. That’s all he drank all night, although he drank quite a lot of it. But he didn’t have any hard liquor and he didn’t do any drugs, at least not in my presence.”

“Since there was just me and this other girl, the blonde, we took turns dancing with the guys. I danced with Jim, and he was just crazy and wild on the dance floor. He’d just flop around, didn’t have any rhythm, and wasn’t a very good dancer, but he seemed to have a good time. And I was thrilled! But he never did smile or laugh.”

Jim said: Moment of inner freedom
when the mind is opened and the
infinite universe revealed
& the soul is left to wander
dazed & confus'd searching
here & there for teachers & friends.


“He told me he wrote a book of poetry, and although I can’t remember exactly at what point during the evening he gave it to me – I think it was over dinner, I have a copy of his poems, “An American Prayer,” which is personally inscribed to me from him.”

According to the appendix of Morrison’s biography by Hopkins and Sugerman, Morrison had 500 copies of “An American Prayer” published by Western Lithographers of Los Angeles in the summer of 1970. http://www.huddersfield1.co.uk/poetry/morrisonpoetry.htm

Near the end of Oliver Stone’s movie, Morison is shown giving out copies of the book to other members of the band. Val Kilmer, who plays Morrision in the film, reportedly paid thousands of dollars for a copy of “An American Prayer,” which he claimed is only one of fifty still known to be in circulation.

Two other books of poetry, “The Lords and the New Creatures,” were privately published by Morrison in limited editions of 100, by Western Litholgraphers, and then republished in both hardcover and paperback by Simon & Schuster.

Jim said:
An American Prayer

Do you know the warm progress under the stars?
Do you know we exist?
Have you forgotten the keys to the Kingdom?
Have you been borne yet & are you alive?
Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages
Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests
[Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war]
We need great golden copulations
The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest
Our mother is dead in the sea
Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals
& that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood
Do you know we are ruled by T.V.
The moon is a dry blood beast
Guerilla bands are rolling numbers in the next block of green vine
amassing for warfare on innocent herdsmen who are just dying
O great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art & perfect our lives
The moths & atheists are doubly divine & dying
We live, we die & death not ends it
Journey we more into the Nightmare
Cling to life our passion'd flower
Cling to cunts & cocks of despair
We got our final vision by clap
Columbus' groin got filled w/ green death
(I touched her thigh & death smiled)
We have assembled inside this ancient & insane theatre
To propagate our lust for life & flee the swarming wisdom of the streets
The barns are stormed
The windows kept & only one of all the rest
To dance & save us
W/ the divine mockery of words
Music inflames temperament
(When the true King's murderers are allowed to roam free a 1000 magicians arise in the land)
Where are the feasts
we were promised
Where is the wine
The New Wine
(dying on the vine)

http://www.justsomelyrics.com/180668/Jim-Morrison-An-American-Prayer-Lyrics

So Miss L, the Paparazzi Queen, has more than just an old, rumpled empty pack of Marlboros as a memento of her night on the town with the Lizard King. She has a rare, signed, first edition book of his “American Prayer” poetry and three, never before published photos of Morrison in his “Jesus Christ” mode. http://www.bookride.com/2007/04/american-prayer-jim-morrison-1970.html

But she doesn’t care too much for the poetry, and prefers the Doors’ songs he didn’t write, like “Light My Fire,” which he sang with a passion. http://www.lyrics007.com/The Doors Lyrics/Light My Fire Lyrics.html / http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPPh6dci_vs

“Jim was a sensational singer, and he had charisma,” she says, “but I just didn’t like his poetry. Maybe I just don’t understand it. I like Rod McKuen.” http://www.oocities.org/soho/workshop/4296/mckuen.html

“I know he wanted to be remembered as a poet, and didn’t make it as one. So other people must think the same as I do. But I realize, as he said to one critic, maybe I just don’t understand it.”

“In the move it seemed that he wanted to die. But that wasn’t the guy I knew, even if it was for only one day. The Jim Morrison I met came across as a nice guy, not the wild animal he’s portrayed to be in the movie. I thought he was too young to die of a heart attack. Nobody saw the body, except Pam, his girl friend and common-law wife.”

“There was no funeral,” she continues with her Conspiracy Theory, “and Pam supposedly died a few years later. If anyone could have pulled off a stunt like that, wanting to start a new life as a writer and poet instead of a rock star, it was Jim.”

Jim said:
Death is a good disguise
for late at night

She was a first-hand witness to Morrison’s camelion capabilities and ability to go about in public without being recognized.

According to Hopkins and Sugerman, the idea for such a stunt had been in the works for awhile. “The seeds were planted even earlier in his life. When Jim was studying the life and poetry of Arthur Rimbaud, he was gripped by the fact that Rimbaud had written all of his poetry by the age of 19 and then disappeared into North Africa to become a gun runner and slave trader.”

Of course this is also the story of “Eddie and the Cruisers,” whose superstar singer and composer evokes Rimbaud and fakes his own death – driving a 57 Chevy off the Ocean City – Somers Point Causeway bridge. After working as building contractor in Canada for a few years, Eddie Wilson returns in the follow up movie, a story line that is apparently based on Morrison’s desire to forsake being a rock star. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eddie_and_the_Cruisers
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0085475/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0097262/


According to Hopkins and Sugarman, “Morrison had previously commented that he would use the name Mr. Mojo Risin, an anagram remix of the letters of his own name, to contact the office after he split for Africa.”

The Paparazzi Queen often expected to see him again someday. “I thought he was alive for a long time,” she said. “But if he was really, really that wild, maybe he was just going straight for the trial. I just don’t know. Maybe I caught him at a slow period. I thought he was alive for a long time, but now I’m not so sure. Now I think he’s dead, like Elvis, Jimmy and Janis.”

“Nor do I believe all that Indian shaman stuff in the movie. That’s just Oliver Stone trying to give Jim more depth than was really there. If he is dead, he was just another drunk, dried up rock star. If not, he would have surfaced by now.”

But there’s no Mister Mo Joe Risin’

LA Women

Well, I just got into town about an hour ago
Took a look around, see which way the wind blow
Where the little girls in their Hollywood bungalows
Are you a lucky little lady in the city of light
Or just another lost angel...city of night
City of night, city of night, city of night, woo, cmon…
Drive through your suburbs
Into your blues, into your blues, yeah…
Drivin’ down your freeways
Midnight alleys roam
Cops in cars, the topless bars
Never saw a woman...
So alone, so alone
Motel money murder madness
Lets change the mood from glad to sadness
Mr. mojo risin, mr. mojo risin
Got to keep on risin
Mr. mojo risin, mr. mojo risin
Mojo risin, gotta mojo risin
Mr. mojo risin, gotta keep on risin
Risin, risin
Gone risin, risin
Im gone risin, risin
I gotta risin, risin….


NEWS REPORT – Dec. 2010

JIM MORRISON PARDONED

Tallahassee - Rock and roll icon Jim Morrison was pardoned on Thursday by the Florida clemency board for exposing himself at a raucous concert in 1969, an act the late singer and many concert-goers denied ever took place.

http://www.iol.co.za/news/back-page/jim-morrison-pardoned-1.999762