Tag: died

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Noted Memphis-born Dancer Lowell Dennis Smith Dies

Lowell Dennis Smith, a ballet dancer and teacher who for some years was a principal dancer with the Dance Theatre of Harlem and later was director of the company’s school, died October 22 at UCLA Medical Center. He was 56.

The cause of death was lung cancer, said his longtime friend Rick Frey. Smith had been dividing his time between Los Angeles and New York City.

Born in 1951 in Memphis, he studied dance at the North Carolina School of the Arts in Winston-Salem and then performed as a dancer and actor in Memphis and later with the Eglevsky Ballet on Long Island, New York.

He joined the Dance Theatre of Harlem in the late 1970s and danced with the company for 17 years. One of his best known roles was as Stanley Kowalski in a dance adaptation by Valerie Bettis of the Tennessee Williams play “A Streetcar Named Desire.”

Read more about Smith at the Los Angeles Times website.

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Music Music Features

Listening to Ernest Withers

I have a print of an Ernest Withers photograph hanging on my office wall. It’s a portrait of Bilbo Brown, a sad-faced clown who worked with the circa-1940s entertainment troupe called the Brown Skin Follies. If a picture is worth a thousand words, this image of a wearied and wary entertainer, his brown face further darkened with cork, serves as a perfect avatar for other misguided African-American talents ranging from Ike Turner, Chuck Berry, and Sam Cooke to Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, and T.I., both predicting and predicating their missteps by decades.

When Withers died at age 85 on October 15th, a huge portion of this city’s history died with him. Google the Brown Skin Follies and scant information is returned; had you queried Withers on the subject, you’d have gotten remarkable tales about long-forgotten clubs like the Flamingo Room and the Hippodrome, two venues that were part of what the photographer coined “a separate America,” where he could augment his policeman’s salary making “fifty, sixty dollars a night — maybe a hundred, being seen, making pictures” for a buck-and-a-half apiece.

I doubt anyone wandering down Beale Street with a daiquiri in their hand this weekend could give a damn about the history of that storied district, but Withers, who rented a space for his studio at 333 Beale for the last decade, would often pause to explain, “When people go to blues shows now there’s a combination of all people. But [in the old days] it was ninety-nine and forty-four hundredths percent African American people. It wasn’t a mixed crowd.

“The Hippodrome was at the east end of Beale, between the Hunt-Phelan home and the Martin Luther King Labor Center. It was originally a skating rink. When that declined, they turned it into a one-night-stand facility. At other places, black people had to go up through the back to see the big acts,” he said, referencing once-segregated venues like Ellis Auditorium and the Orpheum Theatre. “The acts were African-American, so why did the African-American people have to sit up in the gallery? So the Hippodrome was opened for blacks only. It held five or six thousand — and it was always a packed house.”

Withers also told me stories about the Flamingo Club, which was located on Hernando Street between Beale and Gayoso. “For a number of years,” he said, “the Flamingo Club was the legendary Hotel Men’s Improvement Club, a group of Negro men who were waiters or what-have-you, who worked in the hotels. The management sold it to Clifford Miller, who changed its name to the Flamingo Club. This is after the early days of corn whiskey, but before the liquor-by-the-drink period. The club sold set-ups and you brought in your own bottle. Or you could make a deal with a bootlegger — go outside and buy a bottle of whiskey from him.

“White people,” he explained, “used to come on Beale Street to the Palace Theatre on a special night for white attendance at the Midnight Ramble. At a given night at the Midnight Ramble, the black theater switched to whites only. They didn’t put signs up. It was just understood: no black people. And the same thing would happen for black people at North Hall.”

Despite segregation, Memphis’ music scene in those days was wide open, and Withers captured it all: B.B. King and band lined up in front of their tour bus; Howlin’ Wolf performing at a grocery store; Elvis Presley and Rufus Thomas backstage at a WDIA Goodwill Revue; Lionel Hampton onstage at the Hippodrome; the Finas Newborn Orchestra hamming it up at the Flamingo Room; the Teen Town Singers with a young Isaac Hayes; Ray Charles at North Hall; and hundreds more pictures that have become an indelible part of the American music psyche.

“Being backed by good players can strengthen your confidence,” says Jeff Hulett, drummer-turned-guitar slinger, who plays a free show with his group Jeffrey James and the Haul at the Blue Monkey Thursday, October 25th.

“At first, it was kinda nerve-wracking, but now that I’ve been doing it awhile, I’m pretty comfortable with it,” says the perennially good-natured Hulett, who formed the Haul two years ago after his other band, Snowglobe, went on hiatus.

“I picked up the guitar in 2000 or 2001 and learned a few chords from friends,” Hulett says. “We started playing at Kudzu’s, and eventually graduated to the Hi-Tone and the Buccaneer.”

For more on the Haul, who plan to record a follow-up to their 2006 debut Win the National Championship this winter, go to MySpace.com/JeffreyJamesAndTheHaul.

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News The Fly-By

The Importance of Having Been Ernest

Mourners of Ernest Withers filled the Pentecostal Temple Institutional Church of God in Christ downtown Saturday afternoon to celebrate the homegoing of the world-renowned photographer.

Withers, who died October 15th at the age 85, left a vast body of work that chronicled the Beale Street blues and the birth of rock-and-roll in 1950s Memphis, and the Civil Rights movement across America.

At the service, friends, family members, and public officials eulogized Withers with a celebratory tone.

Afrocentric spiritualist Ekpe Abioto, dressed in ceremonial boubou, tapped a Congo drum and whistled through panpipes as he led the Withers family into church and down the aisle of the expansive, blue-carpeted sanctuary.

From the pulpit, Abioto delivered the libation, assuring the crowd that “death is only a fulfillment of life.” He asked that both the oldest and youngest people in the room — a COGIC minister in his 90s and a two-month-old baby — identify themselves and be recognized.

Trumpeter Mickey Gregory, a former Stax Records session player and Beale Street club entertainer, represented Withers’ ties to the music industry, performing the popular Thomas A. Dorsey gospel composition “Precious Lord, Take My Hand.”

Memphis mayor Willie Herenton called Withers a “giant and a genius,” expressing his gratitude to God “that I, Willie Herenton, had the privilege of kneeling at [Withers’] feet.

“They don’t put just anybody’s obituary in The New York Times,” he reminded the audience.

The Reverend Samuel Kyles also eulogized Withers: “It is said that a drop of water can knock holes in stone, not by violence, but by oft-falling.” Like that drop of water on the stone, Withers’ “camera knocked holes in the stones of ignorance one click at a time.”

Beale Street developer John Elkington promised “there will always be a Withers gallery on Beale.” He said he once asked Withers if he’d been afraid photographing civil rights-era riots and episodes of police brutality.

“No,” Withers told Elkington. “I was too busy working.”

Finally, family members evoked tender and personal memories of Withers playing on the floor and watching cartoons with his grandchildren. “He saw the world through our eyes,” Withers’ granddaughter, Esi Sawyer, recalled.

Those gathered, and the photographer’s many admirers, would agree that we’re better for having seen the world through his.

A procession down Beale Street, past the last of Withers’ six offices located on the strip over the years, and interment at Elmwood Cemetery followed. Dorothy, Withers’ wife of 65 years, four of their eight children, and numerous grandchildren survive him.

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News

Ernest Withers Goes Home: “He Saw the World Through Our Eyes”

CREDIT: p.l.

Mourners of Ernest Withers filled the Pentecostal Temple Institutional Church of God in Christ downtown Saturday afternoon to celebrate the home-going of the world-renowned photographer who died Monday at age 85.

A celebratory tone prevailed among the many friends, family members, and public officials who spoke at the funeral. Eulogists represented the many facets of Withers’ life.

Afro-centric spiritualist Ekpe Abioto assured the crowd that “death is a fulfillment of life.� Trumpeter Mickey Gregory, a former Stax Records session player and Beale Street club entertainer represented Withers’ rhythm and blues associates, though he performed the popular gospel composition “Take My Hand Precious Lord.�

Mayor Willie Herenton called Withers a “giant and a genius,� expressing his gratitude to God “that I Willie Herenton had the privilege of kneeling at [Withers’] feet.

“They don’t put just anybody’s obituary in the New York Times,� he reminded the audience.

Reverend Samuel “Billy� Kyles, said that like the drop of water that knocks holes in stone by oft-falling, Withers “camera knocked holes in the stones of ignorance one click at a time.�

Beale Street developer John Elkington promised “there will always be a Withers gallery on Beale.� He added that he once asked Withers if he’d been afraid photographing civil rights era riots and episodes of police brutality.

“No,� Withers told Elkington. “I was too busy working.�

Finally, a family member evoked tender personal memories of Withers playing on the floor and watching cartoons with his grandchildren. “He saw the world through our eyes,� Withers’ granddaughter Esi Sawyer recalled.

Those gathered would agree that we’re better for having seen the world through his.

A procession down Beale Street and interment at Elmwood Cemetery followed.

###

Categories
Editorial Opinion

Ernest Withers

Ernest Withers, who died this week at age 85, was a giant of American photography. Like a real-life Zelig, Withers seemingly was everywhere — documenting the most pivotal moments of the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s, the Negro baseball leagues, jazz and blues greats, scenes of Beale Street in its pre-tourist heyday, weddings, funerals, and parties. Withers captured African-American life in the South like no other.

He photographed Jackie Robinson, Willie Mays, Elvis Presley, Ray Charles, B.B. King, and Aretha Franklin, to name just a very few of his notable subjects. Withers was in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1956, documenting the bus strike in the wake of Rosa Parks’ arrest. He rode buses with Martin Luther King Jr. His famous “I AM A MAN” photos of the Memphis sanitation workers’ strike are in American history books, as well they should be.

Withers was a modest, soft-spoken man who tended to his large and loving family to the same noble degree that he did to his photography. And like many Memphis icons, he was probably taken somewhat for granted. But Withers never stopped working. In recent years, he could be seen moving through the crowd at social events, charging revelers a modest fee for instant photos of themselves. It’s likely that many of those who bought a picture had no idea they’d just purchased a piece by one of the 20th century’s greatest photographers.

He will be missed, like few others. His legacy will live on in the photos he created.

And if there are any biographers out there looking for a subject whose life could fill several volumes, we’ve got your man.

Another Mock Issue

In their zeal to oppose the reelection effort of 9th District congressman Steve Cohen, certain of his adversaries went out of their way to mischaracterize Cohen’s vote for hate-crimes legislation. The congressman was verbally flagellated as a would-be muzzler of ministers who might want to oppose homosexuality from their pulpits.

Fortunately, counsels have arisen within the African-American religious community to rebut the accusations against the bill and against Cohen. But now another campaign has been launched against the congressman — this time for his refusal to support a congressional resolution affirming that the Ottoman Turks committed genocide against an Armenian minority in the years following World War I.

We do not dispute the allegation concerning events that are now almost a century old. Nor do we contend that the lobbying effort on behalf of this resolution, led locally by one Dany Beylerian, an ethnic Armenian, is anything but sincere.

But, like Cohen, we find the resolution to be ill-timed. Why aim a provocative accusation at an American ally, Turkey, when that government, considerably evolved from its Ottoman past, is not known to be planning any such malice?

And why should a congressman from Memphis vote so as to insult a currently unoffending nation that is the 2008 Memphis in May honoree? Yes, Cohen, as a white Southener, sponsored a resolution apologizing for slavery. In the same way, it is up to the Turks themselves to acknowledge their darker history.

Categories
News

Ernest Withers Dead at 85

CREDIT: nathanielturner.com

(AP) – Activist and photographer Ernest Withers, who helped record the civil rights struggle in the Mid-South, has died. He was 85.

His son, Joshua “Billy” Withers of Los Angeles, said his father died Monday night at the VA hospital in Memphis after suffering a stroke last month.

As a freelance photographer for black newspapers, Withers traveled with Martin Luther King Jr., Medgar Evers, and other figures in the civil rights movement, capturing on film the momentous events of the 1950s and 60s.

Withers also photographed jazz and blues musicians who frequented Memphis’ famed Beale Street, such as Rufus Thomas, B.B. King, Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin.
Withers’ career spanned 60 years.

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

Buster RIP

CREDIT: Justin Fox Burks

Romulus Morgan Hammond Jr., better known as Buster, died September 8th at the age of 97. For more than 50 years, Buster was the face of Buster’s Liquors and Wines.

The liquor business wasn’t Hammond’s first calling. In earlier jobs, he ran a full-service gas station on Madison, was a sales representative for MGM Studios, and opened a chain of drive-in grocery stores. In 1954, with the help of two investors and a start-up capital of $12,000, Hammond opened Buster’s Whiskey Store on South Bellevue. After Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968, Buster moved the store, eventually opening its permanent home at Poplar and Highland in 1970. This is where many customers came to recognize Hammond as “the man in the chair.”

Today, Buster’s Liquors and Wines has more than 8,000 items in stock, the largest selection of wine and spirits in Tennessee. The 10,000-square-foot store, now led by Buster’s son, Romulus Morgan “Rommy” Hammond III, specializes in hard-to-find specialty wines from around the world.

Buster’s Liquors and Wines
191 S. Highland (458-0929)

In the push to offer customers more local products, select Memphis restaurants now offer Neola Farms‘ all-natural ground beef on their menus. Among the restaurants are the Inn at Hunt Phelan and Interim.

“I have been in farming practically all my life, but we have only been selling our beef to the public for 12 years and pursuing a wider customer base for only the past five years,” says Michael Lenagar of Neola Farms in Brighton, Tennessee. Offering his beef to local restaurants is a logical step for Lenagar.

“Sixty-five percent of the beef that’s sold in the U.S. is sold through restaurants. That’s a huge market. We’re just testing the waters,” Lenagar explains.

“Our customers definitely taste a difference between a burger that’s made with Neola Farms’ beef and the standard ground beef,” says Jackson Kramer, executive chef at Interim.

Lenagar tries to be competitive, but he can’t sell for the same price as the giant food distributors.

“People are more conscious about their food,” Lenagar says. “If they have a choice between a hamburger patty that they can trace back to its origin or a hamburger patty that might contain meat from five, 10, 20 different animals, they are more likely to pay a little extra for the product from the local farmer.”

A challenge for Lenagar is to get customers interested in the “lesser cuts,” such as eye-round roast, oxtail, and brisket.

“For many people, beef equals steak,” Lenagar says. “But there are so many more cuts that make great dishes that often get neglected. Part of what we do with our animals is to use everything. We also want to get people interested in cooking and preparing those different cuts.”

In addition to restaurants, Neola Farms meat is available at the Memphis Farmers Market downtown on Saturdays and at Café Francisco throughout the week.

For more information on Neola Farms’ beef, contact Michael Lenagar at
476-1867 or e-mail neolafarms@aol.com.

Just in time for fall, The Grove Grill starts back its chef’s-table dinners. At the first chef’s table, on September 26th, Ginger Wilkerson of Athens Distributing Company will select wines for a fall-inspired menu, which will include tortilla-crusted shrimp with black-bean cake, red chili mole and avocado mousse, prosciutto-wrapped rabbit tenderloin with truffled mushroom risotto, and braised pork shank with smoked red-onion barbecue, Yukon Gold potatoes, and creamy slaw.

Cost for the five-course menu is $75 per person plus tax and gratuity. Seating is limited, and reservations are required. Additional chef’s-table dinners are scheduled for October 24th and November 28th.

The Grove Grill, 4550 Poplar (818-9951)

Categories
News

Joybubbles, RIP

CREDIT: AP

As reported by Douglas Martin in The New York Times on August 20th, Josef Carl Engressia Jr., aka Joybubbles, made a name for himself in the 1960s when he discovered that he could make free phone calls anywhere in the world by simply whistling the proper sounds into what was then a tone-based national phone system. He and others — including Apple founders Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak — turned that talent into a game. They became “phone phreaks,” precursors of what we know today as computer hackers.

But in the ’70s, Engressia got caught. He had moved to Memphis in 1971, where he was eventually convicted of phone fraud. From Memphis, he moved to Denver and then to Minneapolis, where he built a network of fellow phone enthusiasts. He survived on Social Security disability, but he did take part-time jobs. Engressia’s superb sense of smell, for example, led agricultural researchers to use him in their efforts to control the odor of hog excrement.

Throughout his life, Engressia clung to childhood. As Martin reports in the Times, he made himself minister in what Engressia called the Church of Eternal Childhood. He owned tapes of every episode of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, He collected teddy bears. His I.Q. was 172. The cause of his death remains unknown.