Rosanell Eaton, 1921 - 2018

RIP

Armenta Eaton, in an interview for this obituary, said her mother had eagerly testified about the racial discrimination in her lifetime, including the many attempts to intimidate her. “She feels so strongly about it,” Ms. Eaton said, “She’s not afraid of anything. She couldn’t wait to get there.”

The greatest singer of all time

RIP, Miss Aretha.

Respect

Thinking about Ms. Franklin, who sang at both Martin Luther King Jr's funeral and Barack Obama's first inauguration.

Fats Domino

RIP.

Douglas Dowd

RIP

Ace

What an amazing character.

The guitar that changed the world.

Scotty Moore, RIP.

"I ain't got nothing against them Vietcong."

I remember on the eve of the first Ali-Frazier prize fight, everyone -- and I mean everyone -- took a side.  You were for Ali or for Frazier.  I don't know of any cultural event (it was way more than a mere sporting event) in which that's been the case.  They were proxies for our societal chasm of the time.

Rest in Peace.

And nothing to get hung about

George Martin, RIP.

Just listen.

Monte Irvin

RIP

Lawrence Berra, RIP

He would be happy to know that a rookie named Bird won the game last night with a 3-run homer in the 10th.

Ornette Coleman

RIP.

He was still the shape of jazz to come.

John Doar, 1921-2014

Rest in Peace

Charlie has more.

Pete Seeger, 1919-2014

RIP.  I think Pete's was the first concert I ever attended, a free one in Golden Gate Park four decades ago or so.

When giants walked among us

Anthony Lewis

1927-2013

Donald Byrd, RIP

I don't know if it was a coincidence, or if they knew he was ill, but WKCR* featured Byrd for a full afternoon on their "Jazz Profiles" show on Sunday, Feb. 3.  It was a wonderful retrospective of his incredible career.  Byrd died the next day.

Almost from the day he arrived in New York City in 1955 from his native Detroit, Mr. Byrd was at the center of the movement known as hard bop, a variation on bebop that put greater emphasis on jazz’s blues and gospel roots. Known for his pure tone and impeccable technique, he performed or recorded with some of the most prominent jazz musicians of that era, including John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Sonny Rollins and the drummer Art Blakey, considered one of jazz’s great talent scouts. As a bandleader, Mr. Byrd was sometimes a talent scout too — one of the first to hire a promising young pianist named Herbie Hancock, who, like Mr. Byrd, would later be called a renegade for an approach that won a wide audience but displeased many critics. 

* A station that desperately needs money to stay alive.

Etta James

It's a blue Friday. This should help you feel alright.

Hubert Sumlin, 1931-2011

Very few have been as influential.

Mr. Sumlin began appearing on Howlin’ Wolf’s recordings in 1953, first as a rhythm guitarist and then, beginning in 1955, on lead guitar. Mr. Sumlin’s eerie guitar counterpart to Howlin’ Wolf’s unearthly moaning on the 1956 hit “Smokestack Lightnin’ ” has lately been featured in a television commercial for Viagra. He also played lead on “Back Door Man,” “Spoonful” and “The Red Rooster,” all written and arranged by the Chicago blues trailblazer Willie Dixon.

“Dixon’s often astute novelty lyrics and shrewd arrangements were topped off by Sumlin’s imaginative, angular, taut attack, frequent glisses, maniacally wide vibrato and percussive chords, all drawn with an exaggerated brush,” the producer Dick Shurman observed of Mr. Sumlin’s relentlessly inventive playing in his liner notes to a 1991 boxed set of Howlin’ Wolf’s work for Chess Records.

“Back Door Man,” “Spoonful” and “The Red Rooster” were later made even more famous in versions released, respectively, by the Doors, Cream and the Rolling Stones. All three originally appeared on Howlin’ Wolf’s 1962 LP “Howlin’ Wolf,” which the critic Greil Marcus called “the finest of all Chicago blues albums,” largely because of Mr. Sumlin’s contribution.
Though at times tempestuous, Mr. Sumlin’s partnership with Howlin’ Wolf lasted until the singer’s death in 1976. Mr. Sumlin’s intuitive, empathetic accompaniment typically spurred his mentor to unpredictable and frenzied heights.

Speaking of their collaborations in a 1989 interview with Living Blues magazine, Mr. Sumlin said: “Hubert was Wolf, Wolf was Hubert. I got to where I knew what he wanted before he asked for it, because I could feel the man.” 

Harmon Killebrew

We moved to Minnesota when I was six. The Twins had moved there in 1961. So, I had a Rod Carew bat from Sears, but Harmon Killebrew was my favorite.

Anticipation for The Killer in the late ’50s rivaled the lust for Harper now. But the interminable five-year wait for his arrival as a Senators regular puts the impatience of the current Bryce Bulletins to shame. Killebrew homered in the majors at 18, and at 19 against the Orioles, he hit the longest blast in Memorial Stadium history at 471 feet. Stop torturing us, fans pleaded, by sending him back down to Charlotte, Chattanooga and Indianapolis!

Yet there’s a lesson in proper prodigy grooming in the Killebrew tale. When he got to Washington for good at 22, he was ready, leading the American League with 42 homers his first full season. And he wasn’t prepared just when he was in the batter’s box. Killebrew, who died Tuesday at 74, not only hit 573 homers but will be recalled as one of the finest gentlemen in all of sports, not just baseball’s Hall of Fame.

Whatever can possibly be meant by the word “maturation,” Killebrew achieved it. We are left with the memory of a magnificent career and a man who was loved for his humility, kindness and charity with his “Miracle League” for children with physical and mental challenges. He was at ease and open, almost ego-less, whether with the biggest stars, a President who came just to see him play or the guy picking up his dirty uniform.

Once, asked what he did for excitement, Killebrew said, “I like to wash the dishes.”