One for the archive…
From James Jenkins: Greystone Museum Finder...
This manuscript is the product of a tape recorded interview with James T. Jenkins conducted by Deborah Evans for the Burton Historical Collection of the Detroit Public Library on June 7, 1988. Deborah Evans transferred the tape and James T. Jenkins [1916-1994] edited the transcript.
James T. Jenkins is the Founder and Director of the Graystone International Jazz Museum.
James T: I had the pleasure of booking Duke Ellington three months before he died. It was at the Detroit Light Guard Armory for a scholarship annual fundraiser, February 19, 1974. We honored Duke that February with a plaque and with keys to the City of Detroit from Mayor Coleman A. Young. Duke was too sick to come to the celebration, so his son, Mercer Ellington, planned to take the honors. Fortunately, the evening of the performance at the Light Guard Armory, Duke appeared. I persuaded the Ford Motor Car Company to donate a Lincoln Town car to transport Duke around that Saturday, and Saturday evening, to the function. The city declared that day, February 19, 1974 Duke Ellington Day. Duke was staying at the Statler Hotel on Washington Boulevard. I drove Duke from the Statler Hotel to the armory for the affair. Duke and I conversed all the way to the armory, and he spoke great things about the music, as sick as he was. (At that time he only had a few months to live). He had great aspirations and visions of where he wanted to continue to go, and things to be done.
Q: He still has a vibrant mind…
A: Yes, he did, he really did. So, when we arrived at the dance, he was given a private office with a couch so he could lay down and rest. Then, he would perform ten or fifteen minutes out of an hour, and be relieved by a pianist traveling with the band. But he loved the public so…he didn’t want to disappoint them completely.
Q: So that’s why he did at least fifteen minutes out of the hour…
A: Ten or fifteen minutes, and then he would have to get off the bandstand and go back into the office and lie down. He performed until there was only about thirty minutes left in the affair, and he asked to be transported back to the hotel. While I was driving him back, he told the friend with him, “Get Mr. Jenkins’ address—I want to send him a Christmas card.” And I said, “Mr. Ellington, Christmas just passed. You’re going to send it next Christmas?” And he said, “No. I don’t send my Christmas cards out until May of each year. My Christmas cards never get hung up in the Christmas mail.” So they took my address. I delivered him to the Statler hotel, and watched him enter the hotel. We had some special posters made, publicizing his performance in Detroit, and he wanted me to bring him some the next day before they departed for their next gig. I delivered a dozen or two of the posters to him at the hotel. Not realizing Mr. Ellington was near death, I went ahead with my usual routine, and one morning in my travels, I turned the radio on, and they announced Duke Ellington had died early that day…May 24, 1974. It was a tragedy, such a shock.
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