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Lionel Hampton, or “Mad Lionel” as he was sometimes called,
was born in the year 1908 and died in 2002. He was an American jazz vibraphonist, drummer,
pianist, singer, composer, and actor. This extraordinaire man and American music
icon entertained fans and audiences locally and internationally and of every
race, color, and creed. In the field of
entertainment he linked with Benny Goodman, Buddy Rich, Louis Armstrong and
Quincy Jones just to name a few.
I recall one summer’s day in 1996. It was the end of the workday when I shared,
with a co-worker, that it was my intention to meet with Lionel Hampton at his Manhattan
residence in New York. My co-worker was
overly excited. He held this black American
entertainer in high esteem and hastened me on. Inasmuch as I was looking forward to the meeting,
I certainly wasn’t going to get there at break-neck speed. I was too old to be star-struck. To reinforce
this I wasn’t even equipped with a camera or an autograph book.
My commute, by subway, to Mr. Hampton’s residence took forty-five
minutes. I was greeted at the door by
one of my friends who happened to play a very important role in his daily
activities and well-being. After a brief chat she offered me a seat on the
couch in the living room and then hurried to a nearby room to announce my
arrival to Mr. Hampton. Oh wow! I
uttered, from my vantage point, obviously impressed with all the accolades
about me. It took less than five minutes
for Mr. Hampton to appear and within that time I had already turned my eyes
loose around the living room and feasted on awards, certificates, trophies,
pictures of him with US Presidents, letters and most importantly his famous vibraphone.
The name Lionel Hampton was inscribed in big bold letters for all his audience
to see, a symbol that he was the master jazz vibraphonist of all times. I let
my mind wonder for a moment and just as it was about to take full course, Mr.
Hampton appeared, smiling and walking with the aid of a cane. I rose from the couch as he approached me. We
then exchanged greetings. His handshake
was firm. After our greetings we then
sat on the couch and quickly got engaged in conversations about his music and
his achievements. Through his
conversations it became evident that the cane he used was no measure to go by
when it came to him going about, attending functions and entertaining his audiences
and fans. My visit lasted for about an
hour after which I left for home with an invitation to visit anytime.
Of
course, I wouldn’t want to abuse my visitor’s status with Lionel Hampton. I learnt from a very young age not to
overstay my welcome or become a regular at people’s homes. So I delayed my next visit until the fall of
that same year, 1996. I went with
company, my younger daughter. I was also
equipped with a camera. Maybe after all
being star-struck has nothing to do with age as I had originally thought.
Dinner was served followed by Mr. Hampton’s willingness
to tell me more stories about his achievements and about the people he had
associated with in the entertainment industry and elsewhere. His face lit with excitement and so did mine
as he spoke about having performed with Chaka Khan. At the time she was one of my favorite
entertainers and I wished he could have kept on talking about her but there was
more valuable information to share within the schedule of this visit. Eventually, he invited me to a close-up view
of his show-and-tell possessions. In my
mind it was a mini Smithsonian Institution.
His baby grand piano, the cache of pictures and signed documents of past
and at the time current Presidents of the United States of America were of the
highest caliber. I looked and smiled at
a picture with him in the company of a Republican President. It was no secret that Lionel Hampton was a
staunch Republican and had made many contributions to the party.
My focus shifted as Mr. Hampton introduced me to his
vibraphone, his most prized possession.
He suggested we play the vibraphone together and much to my dismay my mediocre
pick of notes here and there were the least of his concern. He completely tuned me out as he got carried
away at what he did best. I was rather
taken aback when he also invited my daughter to join him on the vibraphone.
They practiced and then did a little gig together which was very much in sync
given the short notice. Our moments on
the vibraphone were captured on camera. Besides
that prized opportunity, other pictures were taken including one with him in a mischievous
mood as I sat poised beside him on the couch, waiting for the click of the
camera. Suddenly he scooped me in his
arms. I tried to escape but it was too
late. The deed was done; the boyish side of Lionel Hampton was captured. The moment drew laughter then and still does
to this day.
Mr. Hampton soon became a must-see-person in my world. As a result my family members who were on
vacation from the United Kingdom and the island of Jamaica also had the
opportunity to meet with him. He
probably thought we were some lost relatives as each time we visited it seemed
as if he had killed the fattest calf, loads of food for everyone at the dinner
table followed by excerpts of his works. I looked forward to receiving the delivery as
if they were the great bed time stories of old. I recall one of my dinner visits when he
invited me to watch one of his taped performances. His jaw dropping performance had me sitting on the edge of my seat. He was youthful and fit as a fiddle. He was jumping from the vibraphone to the drums, then back to the vibraphone and
into the waiting arms of some females in the crowd. The scene was nothing short of a camera-trick.
Insane! Amazing! Unbelievable! He too relished
his performance of yesteryear. “Oh man, I
can’t believe I did all of that,” he commented, smiling. Filled with gallantry, I would say, and having
noticed how pleased I was with his performance, he promised to make me a copy
of that special tape. On that particular
day, I left his apartment filled with joy, wondering if I should go home and
try his moves from the tape that I had seen for the want of good exercise.
I continued to
keep in touch with Mr. Hampton by phone giving little thought about when I
would pick up my copy of the tape or return for a visit. The copy will always be there, I told
myself. Then one day in 1997 a gloom
came into his life. His apartment caught
fire. I watched the news on the
television and as I did I saw ominous dark clouds of smoke rushing from his
apartment windows into the air. I was saddened
by the disaster but felt relieved knowing that he was not harmed. A life time of Jazz mementos were consumed, including
his big band arrangement, handwritten notes from seven Presidents of the
United States of America, one of whom was Harry S. Truman,
portraits of his late wife and the grandmother who reared him. Interestingly, long after the dust was settled, I received a phone call
via Mr. Hampton’s personal attendant.
She wanted me to know that a cassette tape with some of his music would
be gifted to me because the copy of the videotape he had promised me was
destroyed in the fire. The gesture left
me speechless. He was a man of his word,
a man of resilience and stamina. He entertained
his audiences into the wee hours of his life.
Tah-tah! Treasure each moment.
Grace Dunkley-Asphall, Copyright © 2013
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