Every year when the Animal Crackers jazz concerts at the Racine Zoo begin, I think back to the years my bride and I hosted the entertainers. We met them at dinner at Lakeview Community Center, transported them in our motor home to the concert site and parked on the edge of the road. The musicians would wait in or near the unit until concert time and come back for rest and refreshments at intermission and after the concert when we would take them back to the center. We did that for 17 years around the turn of the millennium. I did one more year after cancer took Carol from us.
It came about when Wendell Anderson, a high-ranked figure at the Racine Parks and Recreation Department and member of the Animal Crackers committee, noticed we owned a Class C recreational vehicle aka mini-motor home. He mentioned that to Jim Wardrip, a high-ranked figure at The Journal Times and a founder of Animal Crackers.
Jim made a pitch to us about hosting the entertainers and we agreed. Hey, free dinner and free admission to the concerts, why not? Also, I managed to put a beer or two in the refrigerator if the musicians hadn’t consumed them.
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Some of the 70 or so individuals and groups we hosted, remain in my memory — LeRoy Jones (trumpet player whom I was surprised to see smoking cigarettes), Count Basie Orchestra, Tuck and Patti, Herbie Mann, New York Voices, Regina Clark, Chicago Jazz Ensemble, Spiro Gyra, Joe Negri.
I will never forget the late blues singer Joe Williams. While we were chatting in the unit, a high ranked figure at Johnson Bank and member of the Animal Crackers committee came in with the check for the singer’s performance. After a few pleasantries, Williams harshly criticized the young lady for wearing shorts he said were much too short. And then he told her she has nice legs.
I thought of Williams when I read attorney John Whaley died. When I chatted with John at that concert, he said he was a blues fan and had attended a Williams concert years earlier in Chicago.
We hosted Nancy Wilson the second year. As concert time neared, she asked to be alone in the motor home where she stood with eyes closed. I suppose some would say she was psyching herself.
A few years later, her manager who was here with another group gave us Nancy’s latest CD, saying Nancy remembered us and wanted us to have it. We were honored although amazed she remembered us.
The odd thing about our volunteering is that Carol and I were not jazz aficionados. I annoyed volunteers Jack, Michael, Don, Gary, Chuck, Wally and David (I don’t know the last names of some so won’t list any) when, after several numbers, I said, “I haven’t heard a tune yet.”
But New Orleans style jazz — Dixieland, if you will — was different. We danced on the road when the Dukes of Dixieland and Preservation Hall Jazz Band performed.
When members of the Preservation Hall band sat in the motor home prior to the concert discussing the music they would play, Carol asked, “Will you play ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’?”
They all made quizzical expressions and one asked, “‘When the Saints Go Marching In”? Do we know that one?”
It was one of the last numbers the group played.
Next month: Why two autographed photos were hung upside down.
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July 10, 2022 at 09:00PM
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As I See It: Short shorts and all that jazz - Journal Times
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