Mark Lewis Birthday Concert
January 26, 2007
Dear, Dear Jim,
This is Vonne's daughter, Suzanne.
I'm finally writing mom's biography (a full book!), which had been in the works prior to her passing. Emotionally, it has taken me the last couple years to pull myself together. I wasn't even able to make the rounds for fun or for interviews-too many memories.
I'm hoping you have a little time to help me run down any old interviews, etc, with mom. I interviewed her some over the years, but I'd feel more confident if I could get my hands on some of the old stuff. I don't want to be a burden to anyone, but any help I could get would be swell. I'm serious about this project and fortunately the Louisiana Museum of Jazz is willing to help me research the N.O. part of her story. I've got her scrapbook and (hold onto your hat) letters between mom and dad in 1945 detailing mom's tour with Ray Bauduc's short-lived orchestra. I spent 5 days in New York interviewing Lee Barrie, of mom's trio. It's all a treasure, a gift, and I intend to do it justice.
Last Monday, I got a bug to start contacting people: just Overton and Floyd to begin with. I called the New Orleans Restaurant on Monday and they said he'd be there, as usual, on Wednesday. As mom always said: "Timing is everything." After weeping, I kicked myself hard and stepped up efforts to arrange interviews. At 6:00 pm last night I was surfing the net. TONIGHT IN BREMERTON: MARK LEWIS with OVERTON BERRY.
The event at the Ponderay Cafe & Lounge was billed as a birthday bash for Mark. (That must be why Mark dedicated the show to Floyd.) We all felt the heartache. (Is that why the music went through the roof and lasted well past quitting time?)
Icing on the cake: Art Foxall. He gave it his all, yet so effortlessly, like honey pouring off the spoon. That sweet smile he gives us when he sings kills me every time. Between spots he leaned against the bar, his rear-end grazing the edge of the barstool for added support. The room was a little chilly so he kept his cap on and hands tucked under crossed arms. He agreed to a future interview and we talked a little.
"Art, if you could go back to any one place in time what would it be?"
After a brief moment he nodded and said, "Cairo, Egypt. A gig for the Queen of England's birthday. Overton was with me."
During a break, Overton gave me his version of Cairo which included a hilarious story about a costume the band was supposed to wear.
Last night, the club was filled to capacity to celebrate Mark's birthday. Whether the folks in Bremerton knew the weight of talent squeezed onto that tiny bandstand will remain a mystery. For the most part they were caught up in the music and applauded right on cue. Floyd's passing pressed heavy on our hearts, and yet the cast of entertainers did their job. With every note they lifted our spirits and their own, I suspect. The show contained all the heat, flair, and playful banter we expect from professional jazz musicians. Bud Schultz stuck to the vibes, until O.B. talked him into playing a tune on the keyboard; Ray Ohls, fooled us all into thinking he was a happy drummer instead of another piano-man kicked off the bench (or is that just plain benched); and to round it out, not one, but two bass players were in attendance! Rick White on electric and Cap DeMeiro on stand-up. Mark informed the audience that two basses was not a typical set-up, but he liked the sound so much he couldn't help himself from standing between Cap and Rick.
Cap charmed us with Fly Me To The Moon. Art closed the show with the low-down-dirty blues and a smile. The two other women at my table were now completely under the spell. At 5:59 p.m. in Olympia I had asked them to drop everything and drive over an hour, in the rain, over the always-backed-up Tacoma Narrows bridge, just so I could have at least one more night like the "old days". They agreed, withholding judgment. At 1:00 a.m., on the drive home, they were thanking me for the time of their lives.
"Don't thank me," I replied. "These guys didn't sell out."
At that point I thought, good jazz, not the dumbed down stuff, is like a glacier measured in geologic time. The thickness shrinks and grows depending on the climate. I'm happy to report that last night, a heat wave was blowing off a patch of excessively cool ice. A very hip glacier is alive and well in Bremerton.
Love, peace, and all that jazz,
Suzanne Griffin