Recently at our Midtown Coffee Club, the topic of big bands from the olden days came up. I picked up a pen and started jotting down some of the famous names. Here are the first dozen in alphabetical order:
Les Brown, Jim and Tommy Dorsey, Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, Guy Lombardo, Glenn Miller, Artie Shaw, Fred Waring, Lawrence Welk, Paul Whiteman and Ted Weems.
Those names rolled right off the lips of my friends, who are mostly in their 70s and 80s. Every name rang a bell with me except Ted Weems. Ask a youngster of today about these big bands and you will likely get a far-away look while they immediately put you in the old timer category. If not, they might tell you they heard about some of these big bands from their gandma or grandpa. This indeed was from another time in history.
My dear late wife Mary and I danced to several of these big bands in Des Moines when dating in the early 1950s and also after we were married on July 17, 1954. But they soon started fading away. The Lawrence Welk replays continue each Saturday evening on Iowa Public Television (IPTV) mostly for pleasant memories of our older generation.
The famous Tromar Ballroom in downtown Des Moines generally was packed on Saturday nights in the early ‘50s when we would double date, or a whole group of us would attend from Newton. So was the Val-Air on the outskirts of Des Moines, particularly in the summer when it was open to the evening breezes. The Riviera was also popular, particularly when the historic Riverview Park was in full swing during the summer.
Family outings would take place at Riverview Park with picnic treats under the nice shade trees. Later on, teenagers in the family could be turned loose during the evening hours to ride the Ferris wheel, roller coaster or the bump cars while Mom and Dad danced to some of the lively music by one of the big bands. Everyone would then head home frazzled out but happy and delighted with a great day. What pleasant memories!
Big bands I particularly remember are those of Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey. Out of curiosity, I checked with our local library for more information on them and was pleasantly surprised to find George Simon’s 500-page book titled “The Big Bands.” What a delight to browse through those pages and have so many personalities come back to life. The first printing was in 1967. The eighth printing had gone to press by 1970 and no doubt a lot more since.
Simon, the author, was editor-in-chief of the famous “Metronome” music magazine stared in 1935. He personally knew many members of the 400 big bands from days gone by. As he pointed out, all across America from the mid-thirties to the mid-forties and beyond, the big bands were king. And those kings held forth wherever there was room enough for their throngs of fans throughout the United States. The glory days started to fade during the bleak days of World War II with the brownouts and ruinous 20 percent amusement tax.
I found the Dorsey story, covered in three parts particularly fascinating. They started together in the spring of 1934 (the year I was born). They had performed separately, accompanying such stars as Bing Crosby. But no one expected such a solidly swinging band that soon developed. What surprised everyone was the huge sound that came from just 11 men.
Instead of three trumpets and two trombones, they had just one trumpet and three trombones, giving the ensemble a magnificent resonation never heard before.
Two of the trombones were those of Tommy Dorsey and Glenn Miller, who later went on to national fame. Twenty-five pages and pictures of the book are devoted to Miller, who disappeared over the English Channel on Dec. 15, 1944, in a small plane headed for Paris. He was never heard from again. The 1953 movie of his life starring Jimmy Stewart and June Allyson is one I must check out again to enjoy. It was one of the best.
The Dorseys stayed together until June 1935 when a final brotherly argument caused Tommy to walk out right after the song “I’ll Never Sing Again.” He went on to establish his own band know as The Sentimental Gentlemen of Swing. Tommy knew what he wanted and was a musical perfectionist. He expected the same from his own group. In late 1937, Frank Sinatra joined the band and blended in quite well, helping him on his way to stardom on his own shortly thereafter. What fascinating history to read in this great book, even for a person not heavily steeped in music.
Olden Days appears on Wednesday. Contact the writer at mcneer@pcpartner.net.