It can be argued that I began writing this book the minute I saw Louis Armstrong in The Glenn Miller Story when I was a fifteen-year-old kid in 1995. Days later, my mother took me to the local library, where I checked out a cassette compilation of Armstrong’s 1950s Columbia recordings entitled 16 Most Requested Songs. By track 14 (“St. Louis Blues”), my life was changed, and right there, one could say, I planted the seed of writing a book on this music that moved me so.
Hundreds of people helped me over the fifteen-year journey from that October day to the publication of this book. I wish I had the time to thank each person individually, but that would require a volume in itself. First, I would like to thank my parents, who never stopped encouraging me from the moment I was born. They always supported my wide-ranging interests, even as it led them to spend much of my childhood in bookstores, video stores, and record shops. When I got into Armstrong, they, too, got into Armstrong, and often rewarded me by buying me CDs and allowing his music to form a large part of our family vacation soundtracks. They never stopped in their support for a single second, which truly meant the world to me. When I finally got the book deal and my dream job at the Louis Armstrong House Museum in Queens, there was nobody in the world happier than they. I will never truly be able to thank them enough for their tireless encouragement, but I will never tire of trying.
I also had the guidance of some very influential teachers, namely Nick Cucurese, Michael Aiello, Barbara Smith, and Karen Bosley, who acted like a second mother to me during my time on the newspaper at Ocean County College, teaching me more about writing during those Tuesday production nights than I ever learned anywhere else.
In 2003, I was accepted into Rutgers’s master’s program in jazz history and research. My thesis formed the basis for this very book. I am grateful to the friends I made during that time, namely Ryan Maloney, Flip Peters, Corey Goldberg, Shannon McCarty, Todd Weeks, and the other two-thirds of “the Power Trio”: John Wriggle and Michael Heller. I benefited from the teachings of Henry Martin, John Howland, and especially my mentor, Lewis Porter. Lewis became one of the most important people in my life, encouraging me to develop my thesis into a book at every turn. My gratitude to him is endless.
While at Rutgers, I spent much of my time conducting Armstrong-related research at the Institute of Jazz Studies. Thanks to the entire staff, especially Tad Hershorn, Ed Berger, and Vincent Pelote, for all their help. Dan Morgenstern, director of the IJS, had been my Armstrong writing idol since I was a high-school student absorbing his liner notes. I was thrilled to meet him, honored to become his friend, and am grateful for his input on this book. No one has ever written better about Louis Armstrong, and no one ever will.
Ed Berger booked my first “Research Roundtable” discussion at the IJS in February 2006. It was a life-changing event that helped me realize I needed to expand my research into a book. This led me to the Louis Armstrong House Museum in Corona, Queens, where I came to know director Michael Cogswell, a terrific guy and a patron saint of Pops. I marvel at the heroic way he turned Armstrong’s home into a museum and at the way he has organized and run the Armstrong Archives, where I spent the majority of my time listening to Armstrong’s private tapes. I would like to thank Michael, Deslyn Dyer, Baltsar Beckeld, and Lesley Zlabinger for all their help when I was merely a researcher. My current position as project archivist for the House Museum, which allows me to work with such great people, is a dream come true. Anyone remotely interested in Louis Armstrong should visit the museum for an experience that will never be forgotten. When the Visitors Center opens across the street from the house in 2013, it will be a banner day for Armstrong fanatics and music lovers around the world.
My thanks also go to the Louis Armstrong Educational Foundation, and particularly to Phoebe Jacobs and Oscar Cohen, for continuing to do so much in the name of Louis. Phoebe has been an enthusiastic supporter of mine, even taking the time to attend some of my Armstrong film presentations, and I’m grateful for all of her help.
I must also thank the All Stars themselves, whose music always inspired me and who have been criminally neglected by previous writers. I tracked down five members of the illustrious group, each a gigantic help in making those years of one-nighters come to life. My never-ending thanks to Joe Muranyi, Marty Napoleon, Jewel Brown, Buddy Catlett, and the late Danny Barcelona.
I couldn’t tell the story of Armstrong’s later years without consulting two of the trumpeter’s closest friends, Jack Bradley and George Avakian. Both men not only were tremendously helpful from a research standpoint, but also took the time to look over my manuscript when the clock was ticking. And, more importantly, they’ve both become friends of mine, and for that I’m eternally grateful.
Without a book deal and with too many thoughts about Armstrong on my brain, I started a blog, “The Wonderful World of Louis Armstrong.” I was almost immediately Satch-urated with e-mails from Armstrong fans around the world. I would like to thank each and every person who has ever visited the blog and dropped me a line. I’ve become quite close with some of my readers and must thank Dave Whitney, Phil Person, Al Basile, Bernard Flegar, Uwe Zanisch, David Sager, Augustin Perez, Michael Johnston, Al Pomerantz, and Fernando Ortiz de Urbina for their cherished correspondence. Special thanks to Michael Steinman for all of his support and encouragement (and rye bread).
And special thanks goes to the peerless Armstrong discographer Jos Willems, who, without being asked, generously filled my mailbox with dozens of incredibly rare Armstrong CDs and DVDs, allowing me to listen to and see things I previously had only dreamed about. I am fortunate to have Jos as a great friend. Special thanks also to the group I dubbed “the Swedish Hot Four”: Håkan Forsberg, Peter Winberg, Sven-Olof Lindman, and, especially, the late Gösta Hägglöf. I had always admired Gösta’s work regarding Armstrong, but I never expected to strike up such a fruitful association with him. We traded e-mails for over a year, and he became a mentor of sorts. His stories, pictures, wisdom, and encouragement always provided a great deal of inspiration. The fact that he did not live long enough to see this book published is heartbreaking.
I would like to thank Jon Pult and Marci Schramm of French Quarter Festivals for taking a chance and inviting me to give three presentations at the Satchmo SummerFest in 2008. It was an unforgettable experience, and I’ll always have them to thank for it. I’ve made many great friends at the SummerFest over the past three years, namely Yoshio Toyama, Gary Giddins, Robert O’Meally, Michael Gourrier, Randy Sandke, and David Ostwald. David, especially, has become a close friend, providing hours of rare tapes for my use. I treasure his friendship.
I would like to thank two very important people without whom there would not have been a book: Tony Outhwaite of JCA/Midpoint, my agent and chum, who always remained positive, even when I would call him in a panic; and Erroll McDonald, my fantastic editor at Pantheon, who believed in the importance of my work. The first time I met Tony, he struck up a discussion on Billy Kyle. The first time I met Erroll, he brought up Armstrong’s neglected RCA Victor recordings of the early 1930s. I knew, in both cases, I was in the right hands. They have coaxed me off numerous ledges and helped turn a monstrous thesis into the book you are currently holding. Credit for that also goes to production editor Kevin Bourke and copyeditor Patrick Dillon, who both did heroic jobs in catching not just typos and formatting issues (of which there were thousands) but also any inconsistencies that cropped up. I’m sure few writers have ever been as excited to read through a copyedited manuscript as much as I. Thanks to Alissa Kleinman in permissions and Josie Kals in publicity for all their help and enthusiasm. And big thanks to Erroll’s assistant Lily Evans for all of her help, too, especially when it came to preventing various nervous breakdowns!
Thanks to Chris Albertson for sharing his treasure trove of correspondence between Columbia Records and Joe Glaser in the 1950s. Thanks to Loren Schoenberg for giving me a chance to preach the gospel of Pops at the National Jazz Museum in Harlem and to Terry Teachout for all of his guidance through each stage of the writing process. I’d like to thank Ingo Ruppert, Guy Thalman, Donna Fields, and Len Pogost for helping me acquire rare video footage. And thanks to Swiss photographer Milan Schijatschky for permission to use his beautiful, never-before-published photos. (And thanks to Ronnie Hughart for helping me locate Milan … what a story!)
As a piano player in New Jersey, I’ve led my own small combos for over a decade. I would like to thank some of the many musicians I’ve been fortunate to play with, including Dennis Valencia, Dan Liotti, Jon Kahnt, Dave Williamson, Mark Ipri, Jake Suskevich, Brendan Castner, Angelo Basilone, and the late Shane Gooding. I must thank Mike Wellen and Tom McGovern, as well as the entire OCC crew, for all their help, support, and laughter over the years.
I’m fortunate to come from a very large Italian family, all of whom I love dearly and thank for all of their interest and love. I must make special mention of my brother, Jeff, with whom I’m insanely close, and my brother-in-law, Mike Adams; we’ve all shared thousands of laughs. And thanks to my sister, Michele, and her two children, Tyler and Connor, both of whom learned early on that their birthdays would often be celebrated by watching live performances of Louis Armstrong’s music at Birdland.
Finally, and most importantly, the biggest thanks go to the two ladies of my life: my wife, Margaret, and my baby daughter, Ella. In Margaret, I truly married the woman of my dreams. Writing this book was absolutely no fun for her, but she always supported me when I would disappear to write for hours and hours. She was with me for the thesis, for the blog, for the book, for the lectures, for the rejections, for the celebrations. She’s my best friend in the world, and I love her more than words can describe. And finally, to baby Ella, whose smile goes through me like a high C. She will get to know her uncle Satchmo very well over the course of her life. She was identifying photos of “Louie” at age one and can even identify his trumpet sound! I’m blessed and thankful to have their love.