Some years back, I received a phone call from a woman who wanted to talk about Duke Ellington. She had read an article of mine about the bandleader and decided to give me her firsthand perspective.
No one had known Ellington as well as she had, she insisted. "I was holding his hand at the end," she described in a shaky voice. She even claimed she had collaborated with Ellington on his final composition, the folk opera Queenie Pie.
The woman's name was Betty McGettigan. But though I had a dozen or so books about Duke Ellington in my personal library, her name appeared in none of them. Perhaps she knew the real Ellington, but apparently no one knew about her.
Well, McGettigan, who died in 2009, shows up in Terry Teachout's new biography of Ellington, alongside many other women who consorted with the jazz duke in his private life. That gives you some sense how his biography, Duke: A Life of Duke Ellington differs from the many others published over the years...
Duke's Last Work: Intrigue in the Ellington Estate
By Joseph McLellan
July 7, 1981
You were the music, red roses, wild things, Royalty wearing a crown. I was the words, waiting soft for your call To slow all the madness on your merry-go-around. From "Mon Cher Amant," copyright by Betty McGettigan and Duke Ellington estate.
Those words were written to music by Duke Ellington, music now held in copyright by the Ellington estate, which is, in effect, his son Mercer Ellington.
"I wrote that after he died and sang it for him on the first anniversary of his death," says Betty McGettigan, who was closely associated with Ellington during the last five years of his life. "I can write words to his music at the drop of a hat, but I can't for anyone else's music."
Legally speaking, she can't write words for Duke Ellington's music, either -- at least not for publication or public performance -- except possibly in the case of his last, still unpublished work -- a opera called "Queenie Pie," on which she has a partial copyright claim. The Ellington estate also owns a share of the work, including some vintage songs by Duke Ellington which have never been performed in public and probably cannot be until a settlement is reached between the two claimants.
As McGettigan tells it, the story behind "Queenie Pie" is that of a man and woman in love -- a May-December partnership producing not a home and family but a work of art. Now, with Ellington dead, she sees "tributes" on television and the recycling of his music into such efforts as the current Broadway hit "Sophisticated Ladies," but no effort to respect what she says were his last wishes about his last work. She wants to see it staged, not only because she feels that "Queenie Pie" is partly her work, but mostly because, as she says, "it was what Duke wanted."
She says the job of completing "Queenie Pie" was a definite assignment to me from Duke himself on his deathbed, just as he assigned Mercer to complete 'The Three Black Kings' and to finish producing the recording or the 'Third Sacred Concert.' He used to give assignments like this, and he would never tell one person what another person's assignment was."
"Queenie Pie" was commissioned by National Educational Television in 1972 and was in preparation when Ellington died on May 24, 1974. The music written for it amounted to some 20 pieces, which exist in "lead sheets" -- voice and piano score without orchestration.
McGettigan has filled in gaps in the script, though she admits it "still needs a lot or work." She also filed a copyright claim. Her troubles began when she started trying to have it produced. "I have been trying for nearly seven years, devoting about 90 percent of my time and energy to it," she says, "and whenever it begins to seem possible, I run into a stone wall."
One early effort to have "Queenie Pie" staged in a workshop and polished for a definitive production was made at Stanford University. "They went to the National Endowment for the Arts to get a grant," McGettigan recalls, "and it looked good until the NEA got a letter from Mercer Ellington's attorneys, saying that I had no right to the material and if they dealt with me there would be a lawsuit. Merv Griffin was interested in producing it -- until he got a phone call. The Houston Opera was interested, and their lawyer even talked to Mercer about it after talking to me, and he seemed willing to go on with it. Then something happened to stop it; I don't know what. There was a producer in Palm Springs who thought he could get it produced -- until he talked to Cress Courtney, and that was the end of that."
Cress Courtney, Mercer Ellington's manager, confirmed the general outline of Betty McGettigan's story on production problems. "I'm well aware of her," he said brusquely when McGettigan's name was mentioned in a phone conversation. "She falsely claimed that she was the co-author of 'Queenie Pie' and filed for a copyright; then our lawyers got a copyright. She's approached everybody to do it, and we've stopped her every time."
At the moment, Courtney says, the primary interest of the Ellington estate is in "Sophisticated Ladies." "Frankly, 'Queenie Pie' has a low priority at the moment. It would be possible to make a show out of it; a certain amount of writing would have to be done . . . It's the property of the Duke Ellington estate, and if we don't want to do it, we don't do it."
Asked about Betty McGettigan's relationahip to the material, he snaps: "It's a long story and I really wouldn't want to see it published because it gets a little sticky." I'd ask "Do you love me?" You'd say "Too much -- too much." I still see your face -- feel your touch. We took that long chance On an impossible romance With odds as high as the sky. We cared. We dared to fall in love. From "Mon Cher Amant," copyright by Betty McGettigan and Duke Ellington estate
Betty McGettigan met Duke Ellington on Jan. 12, 1969. He was nearly 70 years old, and she was a bit more than half that age, a suburban mother in Menlo Park, Calif., recently separated from her husband. One son, Michael, was a teen-ager, still in school and playing French horn in the California Youth Symphony Orchestra. (Later, he joined the Duke Ellington Orchestra but was fired, his mother says, after Duke's death.) He other three children were living on their own.
"I knew that such a person as Duke Ellington existed and that he had composed certain songs," she recalls, "but I never really thought much about him until I started raising funds for Michael's orchestra to make a trip to Australia. We decided to have two benefit concerts. Jack Benny agreed to do one, and I thought I would try to get Duke Ellington for the other. I sent him some recordings and he wrote back that it was 'a great orchestra.' When I phoned him he said 'I'm too busy to talk now, but call me back.' I did -- several times, but he was a nocturnal creature and very hard to contact."
Finally, she tracked him down at San Francisco's Fairmont Hotel, waited for hours in the lobby and went up to confront him in his room. "I think maybe previous ladies who came for symphony orchestras were different," she says.
Their first face-to-face conversation ended with Ellington saying, "I'll do your concert. Will you have dinner with me?" She did.
The friendship that began with this meeting lasted for the rest of Ellington's life. "We began traveling together a lot," she recalls. "At first, it was just two people being together, but after a while he started asking me to do things for him -- he needed a lot of things done. Sometimes, when he had me work for him, it rocked boats . . . and there were a lot of boats out there . . . I think resentments were built up because of the influence I had on him, how effective I was, the way I could get through to him when other people couldn't. Duke certainly didn't hide me. I was with him in public a lot. I was about ready to change my life, and fortunately when I did, I really changed."
In 1970, when Ellington was composing his ballet, "The River," McGettigan recalls, "he phoned me and said, "I want you to find all the symphonic records you can that deal with water -- and get a few orchestral scores, too.' So I went out and got all kinds of music about water: "The Moldau,' 'La Mer,' even Handel's 'Water Music.' I didn't know where he had called from, so I put it all together and waited. Then he called me from Vancouver and said, 'You're supposed to be here.' I got up to Vancouver as soon as I could. I did all kinds of things like that for him.
"When his book, 'Music Is My Mistress,' was in galley proofs, I went through the galleys with him for additions, corrections and deletions. Then I went to New York, to Doubleday, and we spent weeks going through the changes. I am mentioned in the acknowledgements section of this book.
"The relationship started as something else, but we became very close. I got to be pretty essential to him -- I think."
Ellington had been thinking about "Queenie Pie" before he met Betty McGettigan. She says he began talking to her about the opera "on that first night, or soon after. Before long it became a sort of joint project. In a way, it grew out of our mutual love of words. I carried dictionaries around for him, and we spent hours talking -- hours and hours."
As Betty McGettigan remembers it, "Queenie Pie" began to develop during those hours of talk. "We would be riding in the car, and he would like something that came up in the conversation and say, 'Put that down for 'Queenie Pie,'" she recalls. "Or if we weren't in the same town, he would call me with an idea. I remember, we worked out a sequence at the dinner table one evening. It grew, gradually, in the form of a lot of little scraps of paper."
"Queenie Pie" has entered the "official" Ellington biographies in a number of contexts. In "Duke: A Portrait of Duke Ellington," Derek Jewell says that around 1963 Ellington wrote "a version of a quaint fantasy, Queenie Pie , which verged on opera."
In his book, "Duke Ellington in Person," Mercer Ellington says that "he had virtually completed 'Queenie Pie' before he died," and that on his deathbed "He was really creative to the end, still fussing with details of his humorous opera, Queenie Pie . When we went through his effects, we found that the notes he had written -- if it were possible to line them up -- would almost enable anyone to read his mind from day to day."
Perhaps one reason Mercer Ellington has trouble lining up all of his father's last notes is that the one relating to "Queenie Pie" are, Betty McGettigan says, in her possession.
She adds: "I'm the last person on earth that he spoke to. He told me that he wanted his opera finished and produced. Now that he is dead, the people who control his material are making other tributes and using his music in various ways, but they are not doing anything about this opera. They're doing what they want, not what he wanted. I think he may have given me 'Queenie Pie' as a way of seeing that it would be done the way he wanted it." '
Mercer Ellington disputes this. "We can prove that the work was entirely Duke Ellington's," he says. "McGettigan was simply a secretary. She rushed down to Washington and got it copyrighted."
Bettty McGettigan's reply is: "I'm not a secretary and never was. I don't take shorthand and I don't even make coffee, and I was never on his payroll. I'm not ashamed of anything that happened." We danced through the storm clouds, With ghosts of the past, Lived every moment, right to the last, Laughed at them all Who hoped we would fall, Those odds stayed as high as the sky. From "Mon Cher Amant," copyright by Betty McGettigan and Duke Ellington estate
Waltzing to a Tango
by Betty McGettigan
© Copyright 2005 Betty McGettigan
“...and no matter when he arrived would have been too late – because too much had happened by the time you were born, let alone by the time you met each other.”
ANOTHER COUNTRY
By James Baldwin
Once upon a time - actually 1969 - two people from completely different worlds met in a serendipitous way. He was not a Prince, but Duke; she, a busy wife and mother of four. It is a true story which had its beginning in San Francisco and covers their 5-1/2 intense years together. He was a well-known musician, piano player and composer. She was involved in music and its young performers, tasked to find a soloist for a concert to benefit the well-known California Youth Symphony on the San Francisco peninsula.
Meeting each other more than fulfilled her task. The benefit concert turned into years of touring and road tripping with Duke and his orchestra, assisting in his various musical projects, being at his bedside as he lay dying, and then struggling against invisible and almost unsurmountable odds to finish the last task he entrusted to her.
The story of Duke Ellington and Betty McGettigan is really the tale of two night creatures and their lives on the other side of the clock. The musicians in Ellington’s orchestra, some of the finest in the world then or now, provide the backdrop for this unlikely romance.
About Ellington
Duke was a very private person who let you know ONLY what he wanted you to know! This is why almost every book about Ellington has the same old facts chewed and digested over and over again. I am uniquely able to invite readers into the private world of Duke’s last years.
When I met him he was twilight, a sunset at the ready – elegantly matured from that brash, “hip” young man still portrayed by the press. Unknown to all except his most intimate friends, Duke was struggling with heavy public and private responsibilities as he edged ever closer to a final serious illness. On stage somewhere almost 340 out of 365 days and nights, his public persona of enormous talent, sophistication and elegance never betrayed his fondest wish for some degree of “normalcy” in his life. His orchestra was his family, his music explored his wish to be closer to his God, and he was feeling the unmistakable weight of his own mortality. Yet, to the end he still made such beautiful music.
Duke often said that ours was the closest, most intensely personal relationship he had ever allowed himself to have. When I wondered the 'why' of it he only said, "You knew me before you knew you knew me." He believed that statement absolutely, and he may have been right. I only know that I was blessed to be the one at his side as he left this world, comforted in the knowledge that he was truly loved, and he had been a good, gentle man of honor who had unconditionally dedicated his entire life to lifting peoples’ spirits through music.
The Beginning
He was born in a big American city before her parents had even met. By the time she was born in a sparsely-populated Prairie state, he already was the head of his own family. That difference alone could have made the whole thing impossible. Beyond that, each came from radically different cultures, lifestyles and races.
His story first: He was a handsome child, the only male in a constellation of adoring aunts and cousins. From the beginning his mother assured him that he was “blessed,” a force unto himself. He grew up supremely confident, a junior showman with attentive audiences and an extraordinary talent. Yet there were missteps. He became a husband and father too young, abruptly ending his formal education. As a rising star he found undisciplined pleasure in all the world could offer. By the time they met, life had long ago become more serious and he had grown into the responsibility his talent carried.
Her story. She was raised in a small - really small -- town, the youngest child of educated parents who lavished her with love, attention and opportunities. Her father was a stringer for the Associated Press and mayor of the town. Mother was a housewife whose life was clouded by chronic illness. It was a Norman Rockwell life of school, family, community and church with precious few distractions. Necessity required that she become resourceful and self-sufficient, skills that served her well throughout life.
Both were dreamers. Oh, did they have dreams! He developed into a fine musician, moved to New York City, lived fast and probably recklessly, and became famous - the toast of big ¬city nightlife. Another world away and oblivious, she was connected to him by the radio. Late on long winter nights she listened to the wonderful music emanating from New York City, Chicago, Denver, Los Angeles – taking coast-to-coast trips with Big Band jazz. In the summer, gazing into the billions of stars in the endless sky, she imagined being on the dance floors in big city hotels and romantic resorts. He and his music were there; she dreamed of being there some day.
Fast forward to 1969. She had married a fourth-generation Californian at the end of World War II. They had two sons and two daughters and lived the typical busy suburban lifestyle. Each of the children had musical talents and had played with the California Youth Symphony. Although the children were unaware, the marriage was seriously troubled and held together only by common devotion to the children and their practice of Catholicism.
The California Youth Symphony played a key role in changing the lives of everyone in this story. Invited to tour Australia during July, 1969, the symphony had to raise money to fund the trip. Previous trips to Japan, Mexico and several U.S. cities were financed by benefit concerts that featured well-known performers like Jack Benny and Mary Costa. As the fund-raising deadline for the Australian trip was fast approaching, she was charged with finding a marquee musician.
One day, when the youth orchestra had gone to the ABC studios in San Francisco to prepare a tape to be used on television to solicit contributions, one of the young percussionists told her that a Big Band was scheduled to perform at Bimbo's 365. He wanted to sneak out to get tickets. She agreed to cover for his absence, but a thought crossed her mind. Would the bandleader agree to perform at the symphony fundraiser? She gave the young man a symphony recording to give to the bandleader to see if she could interest him in performing with the talented young musicians.
The teenager made the contact but, because of his youth, the band leader wouldn’t talk about the concert with him. The young fan called her with the name and telephone number of the hotel where the bandleader was staying. The ball was now in her court.
She made her first phone call early in the evening of January 10, a Friday. At her inquiry about setting up a meeting, the bandleader hedged. But he did ask her to call again the next evening. She complied the next evening only to get the same kind of rebuff - and another request that she call again the next morning at 7 a.m. Whoa! She wasn't usually up on a Sunday morning at 7 a.m.! Who was this guy?!? However, desperation drove her to put aside her usual habits; she set her clock for the early morning wakeup call.
At 7 a.m. she dialed, he picked up and again she heard his same tired excuses. Enough! "Excuse me, but you have made excuse after excuse. Now I have called a special rehearsal of 100-plus youngsters tonight, and I don't really intend to let you off the hook! I'm coming to San Francisco about 5 p.m. and I'm going to kidnap you!" His response? "Well, good luck." And he hung up. Oh, boy, what had she provoked? She thought she had better go to San Francisco to offer a polite apology for "losing it.” And so, she did.
Parking in Fairmont garage that afternoon, she went up to the lobby, picked up a house phone and dialed his room. An operator intercepted her call, saying that his phone was turned off until 9 o'clock. What to do for four hours?
First she called home, asking that the orchestra proceed with the rehearsal as planned and explaining that she would remain in San Francisco to discuss the benefit performance - if she got the chance. She filled the rest of the time with coffee and an ice cream soda, magazines, browsing the lobby shops and chatting-up the bellmen with questions about the bandleader. Then it was 9 o'clock.
She called his room, saying, "Sir, I have been sitting here for four hours and I really don't intend to leave until I talk with you." To which he replied, "Give me ten minutes, and come on up."
As the ten minutes expired she was in the elevator, nervous but determined to convince him that a guest concert would not only help the youth orchestra afford its trip but would also offer him good publicity. Could she sell it?
She knocked on the door. It opened only a crack, about eight inches. He seemed very sleepy, flustered. Turning away, he said, "Come in, find a chair." Then he disappeared into what, from the sounds of running water, must have been a bathroom. She guessed he was shaving and grooming. She went into the main room and saw that there wasn't even one empty chair! All surfaces had clothes draped or folded over them. Even the lamps were lopsided with drying clothes. A piano was piled with manuscripts, the work of a busy musician/composer.
As she searched for a place to sit, a beautiful, deep voice came from behind her and suggested that she step through the window drapes and look out on the view of the city for a moment. A strange request, she thought, but by now she was curious to know where this was going. He probably wanted to get some piece of clothing, she guessed. After a short time, that deep, sexy voice rolled out again toward the drapes. "Madame, you may come out now."
She stepped out to see a tall, handsome, bronzed man wearing a beautiful headscarf, a polo sweater and a blanket tucked in at his waist and falling to the floor - a long, improvised skirt! A thought ran through her mind: "This is a different man - interesting, handsome and certainly in complete charge of the situation." She quickly glanced around the room, noticing that no clothing on the chairs seemed to have been disturbed. "Just keep focused on his eyes," she told herself, "the eyes, and the face. Things do come undone."
Hoping she looked at ease, as if she found the situation ordinary, she stepped toward him, held out her hand and said, "I'm Betty McGettigan. Thank you for seeing me." Taking her extended hand, he replied smoothly, "I'm Duke Ellington. I'll do your concert. Have dinner with me."
That’s where their story begins.
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That was the prologue to “Waltizing to a Tango”, a new book by Betty McGettigan. Betty is seeking a publisher for the entire book. Please contact her at bettym@differnet.com if you are interested.
