Follow Your Heart: Moving with the Giants of Jazz, Swing, and Rhythm and Blues

4. "Ma" Rainey's Deep South

32 chapter four “Ma” Rainey’s Deep South As the youngest members of the Ray Shep band, Bobby Johnson and I got to be pretty close. In the Shep organization, everybody was supposed to be equal. Everybody got the same salary. But when it came to discussing business, it was a different story. One day, the band members were talking about adding another performance to our schedule, and I chimed in, “I think we should forget about that and should . . .” “You think!?” snapped Mr. Joe Jessie. “Shut your damn mouth! You ain’t think nothin’. You ain’t even stop wettin’ the bed yet. Get over in that corner and keep your damn mouth shut when grownups are talking.” Bobby, my regular partner, and I moved straight to the corner and then made our way outside. I complained to Bobby, “We’re supposed to be in the talk, too.” “Don’t pay it no mind, Joe,” he said. “We’ll find out what went on.” Shep never treated us like that. Traveling with a territory band was a hassle, but worth it for the sheer excitement. One night we had a date in Meridian, Mississippi, and Jo- seph “King” Oliver was also playing in town. He was famous for his brass mutes and had a much bigger name band. We finished playing our engagement early, so I ran to the hall to see this great musician live. He had about seven musicians in his group. Somehow I managed to get down front so I could get a good look because I had heard so much about him. I noticed something wrong with his eye. During a break in the show, he was signing autographs and I got a chance to meet him. He died just a few years afterwards. When I was with Louis Armstrong some years later, he always spoke admiringly of King Oliver, his teacher and mentor. • • • • • A short, stocky woman with her head wrapped in a scarf knocked on the door of our bus, and Toots Singleton, the driver, let her on. “Y’all know me? I’m ‘Ma’ Rainey,” she said. Her voice was as deep as a man’s. We were making an early-morning stop in Columbus, Georgia, during the late 1930s. We had traveled throughout the night and arrived around six in the morning in the black area of town. Vernon Barnett volunteered immediately with a smile, “Yeah, I know you!” Some of the older members who obviously knew who she was got out of their seats and began moving toward her. That’s when I started to pay attention to what was being said. Her face was roundish with wide eyes and a gap in her teeth. A few of those had gold caps on them. “Where y’all playin’?” she asked. “We’re playin’ a dance here in town.” “Oh, I didn’t know about it,” she said. The older band members were standing around, grinning like schoolboys. Even Mr. Joe Jessie was standing there showing all the teeth he had and those missing spaces too. I had never seen him act this way. “Ma” Rainey stood in the center of the group enjoying it all. Some of the band members started telling her about the cities and halls where they had played, and each time she said, “Yeah, I played there too,” and told them a story about the people or managers there. She told them what she was currently doing, too. “Most of the time I’m staying home. You know how it is when show business gets in the blood, it’s hard to get it out,” she said. She talked about a half hour. At the time, I had no idea who she was, but the older members of the group were lit up by this chance encounter. They began telling us about some of her escapades, and where they had seen her perform, and that she was one of the greatest blues singers who had ever lived. Some said she was better than Bessie Smith. That gave me a “ma” r ainey’s deep south . 33 34 . follow your heart reference because I had heard Bessie as a child and remembered the sensation she caused when she was in Pensacola. • • • • • Since Pensacola was so close to southern Alabama, the Shep band played in that state quite a bit. During those days there was no...