Almost fifty years ago today, at about this time, I was in New York City’s Grand Centra Station trying to call a friend named Ron. I had gotten a ride to the Big Apple for spring break. I was there with no money and no place to stay. All I had for a plan was an offhand suggestion that I call Ron if I was ever in New York. His Dad answered the phone.
“Stay put,” Ron’s dad said. “I’m coming after you.” Ron’s Dad took a train from New Jersey into Grand Central to pick me up and take me back to his house. He paid for everything. When Ron finally showed up, he found me sitting on the couch drinking beer with his dad. We already had a plan together. I could stay with them as long as I wanted, and tomorrow we would go into the city to hear music at the Café au Go Go.
That was the morning of the day Martin Luther King Jr. was shot dead. Ron and I did yard work for a neighbor lady and earned $40 which was just enough to pay for admission to the club and transportation into the city. The Cafe au Go Go was a Greenwich Village night club located in the basement of a building at 152 Bleecker Street. The club featured many well known musical groups, folksingers and comedy acts between the opening in February 1964 until closing in October 1969.
The club was the first New York venue for the Grateful Dead. Richie Havens and the Blues Project were weekly regulars as well as Harvey Brooks who was bass player in residence, the Stone Poneys featuring Linda Ronstadt played frequently. The Grateful Dead played 10 times in 1967 and 3 in 1969. Jimi Hendrix sat in with blues harp player James Cotton there in 1968. Van Morrison, Tim Hardin, Tim Buckley, Joni Mitchell, Judy Collins, Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, Oscar Brown, Jr., the Youngbloods, the Siegel-Schwall Blues Band, John Hammond, Jr., The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, Michael Bloomfield, Jefferson Airplane, Cream, The Chambers Brothers, Canned Heat, The Fugs, Odetta, Country Joe and the Fish, all played there. Blues legends Lightnin' Hopkins, Son House, Skip James, Bukka White, and Big Joe Williams performed at the club after being "rediscovered" in the '60s. Before many rock groups began performing there, the au Go Go was an oasis for jazz (Bill Evans, Stan Getz), comedy, and folk music
That night we saw Roger Mcguinn (Byrds), Tim Hardin, and a new group everyone was talking about, Blood Sweat and Tears with Al Kooper. It was to be a wondrous moment in my life. On one side of us sat a couple dressed in a tuxedo and ball gown. On the other side were two children of the street, completely stoned and filled with joy. I was on hallowed ground at the very Zeitgeist of my generation, and all hell was about to break loose.
The date was April 4, 1968. Al Kooper, the man who organized Blood, Sweat & Tears (although he did not stay with the group long enough to share its popularity),[1] provided studio support for Bob Dylan when he went electric in 1965, and brought together guitarists Mike Bloomfield and Stephen Stills to record the Super Session album, came on stage and said the band was “broken up” by King’s assassination and would anyone mind if they just played all night. It was a magical performance with long jazz riffs filled with inexplicable sorrow and haunting sadness. That music lives in me to this day. About 3:00 a.m. or so, Ron and I left and began to walk the streets in New York City. Ron, a veteran of New York culture, struck up a conversation with some fantastically beautiful African American women. I did not know it at the time, (I’m from Savannah, MO) but they were hookers, the first I had ever met. After some embarrassing talk about the fact we hand no money, one of them took me by the hand and said, “Honey, you better get out town as soon as you can. White boys like you are getting killed in this town tonight.” Ron did not waste a moment getting us back to New Jersey. I think that hooker saved our lives.
The next day I took a train through Harlem north to Connecticut. From my seat on the train I could see cars burning, stores being looted; and tight gatherings of young black men, just my age, standing on street corners shouting in anger and raising fists in the air.
Hard to believe it was fifty years ago that all this happened. It was the beginning of new understanding and outlook on life for me. If I tried, I could climb higher and look farther. I had choices about the direction of my life. My friend Ron and dad’s kindness, Al Kooper’s memorial music, two beautiful black hookers saving my life, and the sights and smells of Harlem burning all meshed together to form a lofty vista for a new and emerging world view. It is a memory I cherish. I’ll close with quote from Dr. King. I hope you will understand why it means so much to me.
"We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. So I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."
