Photo: Wikimedia Commons
Ruth Brown 1955
Ruth Brown in 1955
On a brisk, October night in New York City in 1989—as my wife and I entertained Milwaukee guests—I came clean. The four of us were about to stop, look and listen as the one and only Ruth Brown did her stuff on Broadway in Black and Blue. And confession seemed apropos.
“Back in the rhythm and blues days of my youth,” I said, “when the groove was pure, I was in love with Ruth Brown. I thought I should tell you before we get to the theater, and you get tuned in.”
“What’s the matter,” my wife, Janice replied. “Are you still carrying the torch?” I said, “Uh-huh. But once you’ve been exposed to Ruth in person, you’ll love her too. She’s irresistible.”
On Nov. 17, 2006, these thoughts came rushing back to me when I learned of Ruth Brown’s death, at 78, in Las Vegas, from complications of a stroke after surgery. Her friend and lawyer, Howell Begle, said she’d been on life support since Oct. 29.
As a lifelong devotee of original Black rhythm and blues, the great Ruth Brown was one of my original—and lasting—favorites. She was a legend. When I learned of her passing, I recalled the night we met in 1997.
The occasion was the annual Pioneer Awards of the Rhythm and Blues Foundation at the New York Hilton Hotel. At that time, my jazz DJ wife, Susan, and I, spent a few minutes with Ruth. Surprisingly, she mentioned my 1989 New York Daily News column about her when, at age 61, she stopped the show in Black and Blue.
“I’m thrilled that you still remember me,” she said, as she and Begle graciously posed for photos with us. “Your words at the time meant a lot. I’ve had a lot of ups and downs in my life. A whole lot.”
I remember replying that “I was thrilled when you called me at the paper to thank me for the column. It was one of the highlights of my career.” This brought a big smile to her face.
As we parted, I mentioned it to Susan the night I saw Ruth in “Black and Blue.” I recalled how, in the midst of a racially mixed crowd at the Minskoff Theater, I stole glances at Janice and Milwaukee mother and daughter, Linda and Heather. And I loved it when they became ecstatic each time the heroic figure of Ruth, in her glorious gowns and striking blue eye shadow, took her turn in the spotlight.
Whether souling her way through “St. Louis Blues,” mellowing out “Body and Soul” or stopping the show with “If I Can’t Sell It, I’ll Keep Sittin’ on It,” the effect was electric. Ruth brought down the house, just like the old days.
Just about every time Ruth sang, my mind flashed back to those golden, olden days of the 1950s when she was called “Miss Rhythm.” Indeed, she ruled the roost among female R&B soloists—all but keeping Atlantic Records in business. As a result, that pioneering, New York-based R&B label became known as “The House that Ruth Built.”
And that was no mean feat because those were the salad days of Dinah Washington, Varetta Dillard, Etta James, Faye Adams, Dakota Staton, LaVern Baker, Etta Jones and Ella Johnson, to name a few. But to me, Ruth was in a class by herself.
She could mesmerize you with the haunting “Have a Good Time,” (the fave of my late Milwaukee father, Sanford Carter), “Oh, What a Dream,” “So Long” and “Teardrops From My Eyes;” crack you up with “Mama, He Treats Your Daughter Mean” and “5-10-15 Hours” and titillate you with “Daddy, Daddy.” The latter’s lyrics, offered in Ruth’s distinctive delivery, are among the hottest ever to hit wax:
“Daddy, daddy, daddy love me strong. I don’t mind it if it’s all night, daddy. Daddy, daddy, daddy right or wrong, I’m gonna’ need you for a long time daddy.
“Hold me in the morning’, hold me every night. Thrill me, daddy, thrill me, till I scream with all my might. Ooooo, a long, long time…”
Back in the ’50s—growing up in Milwaukee’s Black inner city – I was fortunate to see Ruth and her contemporaries on stage. And as one of the top Black DJs of the day liked to say: “If you don’t dig Miss Rhythm, you’ve got a hole in your soul.”
Thus, it was with pure pleasure in 1989 that I learned that the great Ruth’s star again was shining bright. She’d come back from a bad car accident, years of frustration working as a domestic and, finally, was receiving record royalties rightfully earned during her heyday.
Ruth really started to get it together again when she starred in the Paris production of Black and Blue. After the show opened on Broadway in January 1989, she earned Tony and Outer Critics Circle Awards for Best Actress in a musical
So when I saw Black and Blue and heard that groovy voice, I knew this great lady, like her musical dream, was alive and well. And for a long, long time, whenever I’d play one of my many Ruth Brown records, I’d dream that musical dream all over. And oh, what a dream she was.
Indeed, Ruth Brown—"Miss Rhythm”—was the real thing. A music legend. Those who aren’t familiar with her, do yourself a favor and latch onto a CD or two. Ruth was the best. And that’s the name of that tune.
