BIG CITY BLUES
April--May 2008
ACE’S ALLEY
Fortune Records
By Johnny Ace

Hello all Big City Blues readers and future subscribers. I hope you’re all doing weIl. It’s March 10th 2008 and I have plenty of time to make the deadline. It’s also my man the wailin’ ‘n ridin’ keyboard player David Maxwell’s birthday out in Boston. RIDE, David, RIDE! He told me he’s going out to Ottawa, Canada with a bunch of bluesmen for “The Blues in the Schools” trip. Being that’s the general theme of this BCB issue, I thought I’d mention what a great job “Blues in the Schools” is doing to help educate kids on what a great and important art form blues is. Who knows, there may be a future Elmore James or Big Mama Thornton out there. One never knows!

On that same note, here in the Bay Area helping to keep the blues alive are two great nonprofit organizations. The first is the 22 year old Bay Area Blues Society run by Ronnie Stewart which is dedicated to the preservation and promotion of Blues, Jazz, and Gospel as an indigenous American art form rooted in the African-American communities of Oakland, Hayward-Russell City, Pittsburg, Richmond, and Vallejo. The other is The John Lee Hooker Foundation headed by John’s daughter, Zakiya. Established after John’s death in 2001 by the Hooker family, the JLH Foundation funds music, art, and education programs for underprivileged, at-risk youth in the Bay Area and beyond, thereby ensuring that young people from all walks of life have access to artistic expression. Both organizations are doing there utmost to promote Blues and also to aid older Blues and R&B musicians who need a helping hand.

If you want to find out more about these fine organizations here is their contact information:

Bay Area Blues Society
Ronnie Stewart, Executive Director
408 13th Street, Suite 512
Oakland, CA
510-836-2227 or 707-647-3962
hipwayblues@hotmail.com

John Lee Hooker Foundation
Zakiya Hooker, Executive Director
P.O. Box 1976
Tracy, CA 95378
209-835-7949
info@johnleehookerfoundation.org.


Now that I got that out of the way, let’s go back to 1972!

I don’t remember the season or the year, but the conditions were out ‘a sight! Oh RIDE! HA, HA! I’m living in Ann Arbor, Michigan and playing with The Brooklyn Blues Busters—not a care in the world! As Detroit’s late great Temptation David Ruffin once said, “The sun is shining, there’s plenty of light, a new day is dawning, sunny and bright.” He also said, ”There’s plenty of work and the gigs are all paying!!” AMEN David!

Well, I have the day off and my main man and mind blowing keyboard player/vocalist/ song writer, “Baseball” Bill Heid and I decide to borrow the Rat Mobile (what we called the band truck) and drive out to Detroit to the legendary Fortune Record complex on 3rd Avenue. After stopping at a local White Castle for our “grease fix” we arrive at the gates of Fortune. Of course it’s not a huge multi-million dollar complex, but a little old neighborhood store-front place that before it became a record company in the late 1940’s could have been any neighborhood barber shop, cab stand, combination “bookie joint” or even a butchers shop. This is the sight! The building where from the 1950’s and early 1960’s rhythm ‘n blues, blues, and vocal group magic was made—amazing little morsels of plastic on 45’s, 78’s, and LP’s—they were called “RECORDS!” Records made by artists who all lived in Detroit or near Detroit at the time John Lee Hooker, Dr. Ross, The Five Dollars, Andre Williams, The Don Juans, Joe Weaver, Nathaniel Mayer and many more did their thing! Just “The Wind” alone, that haunting, spine-chilling ballad by The Diablos with Nolan Strong was enough to put Fortune on the map of immortality for record collectors and music lovers —it was ”The Sound!”

Well, on our day of days, when we opened the gates, Fortune was open for business. Bill opened them—it turned out to be a pretty small and cramped up space—very dark with records and dust all over the place and no air or ventilation. The owner, Devora Brown, was just sitting there alone. She seemed very old to me and nondescript—just a little old lady with a great record company. Back then anyone over 30 seemed old to me. She was probably only 40 or 50 at that time. I really don’t remember. We already knew that she wrote a lot of Fortune’s songs.

We told Devora that we were fans of the music and her company and that we always dreamed of seeing her place and that we wanted to buy some records if any were for sale. When we said “buy” she liked that—being a real good business lady. She asked us if first we would like to see the recording studio; it was only ten feet away. Remember, this was a real small space. We very happily agreed to make the tour and we “sashayed” over to the studio.

The thing I remember the most to this day was the thick, heavy vibe of that studio. It gave us goose bumps. Bill and I looked at each other; nothing had to be said between us. We were on the same waive length; we knew we were in a very special place. To us this was a holy shrine. You could cut the air with a knife. We could feel that deep feeling where all the artists of the past, now both dead and alive, who had recorded there, many just teenagers with hopes and dreams of making a hit record or just of making a record to “make chicks,” were still lingering with their vibes of hope and failure and despair in those old walls. I could almost smell the Dixie Peach hair grease from Nathaniel Mayer’s conk and taste all that old wine and other “kickapoo juice” that a lot of the cats used to “swell “ so as to get in that right mood for those old greasefull sessions. MERCY! I could actually really see and hear Nolan Strong and his Diablos in that tiny little smoke filled studio all crowded around one big old mike, pouring there hearts and souls out like their lives depended on it, singing “Since You’re Gone” or “The Way You Dog Me Around.” MERCY! Bill and me were in seventh heaven.

Devora said her son was on his way in to help her mind the store and she’d now show us where all the records were. As we left, we both hoped some of Fortune’s mojo would rub into our veins. Then Devora left us alone to look through the tons of records. We looked about 20 to 30 minutes, but it seemed all had been cleaned out by other collectors. I did find an obscure Blues artist who I didn’t know of at the time. It was a 78 (those are those old, breakable antiqueish records made of shellac) on the defunct and very rare Chance Record label out of Chicago. Chance made the first 78’s and 45’s by the great Flamingos and Moonglows before they went with Chess, the great Rock ‘n Roll/ Blues record company out of Chicago. Most of the Chance records were on a beautiful orange and black label. This record label I found was all black. I knew it was very rare. Bill saw it in my hands and wigged, as he collected records on Chance—yeah, him and every other collector who could find them.

The only time I saw a Chance was at Roy Adams Downstairs Records shop in New York City where Slim Rose’s historic Times Square Records second store used to be—down in the subway at 42nd Street and Times Square. Roy had some Flamingo’s 78’s selling for $5.00 each and at the time, 1969, I didn’t have the money. Now they’re worth there weight in gold! Bill said that the 78 I found at Fortune was the only one he needed to complete his collection and asked me if I would give it to him. DAMN! It wasn’t easy, but seeing we were Blues brothers, I gave it to him. Bill was MORE than happy to say the least.

Just then Devora's son came in. I can’t remember his name. He seemed to be about ten years older than us, pretty straight, serious, and very much into business. I found an LP with John Lee Hooker on one side and Big Macio on the other. I asked him how much it was and he said, "Five dollars" which was a lot for money for an LP back then. I saw a bunch of old 8X10 promo photos of The Five Dollars—there were about 20 of them. They were really cool and they had the Fortune logo on the bottom. I also found two pieces of Fortune stationary and some empty LP picture sleeves of “Village of Love” by Nathaniel Mayer, plus some ads for Nolan Strong and the Diablos. Devora’s son wanted $10.00 for the load—a bit steep.

What you don’t understand is that back then we were buying great records for 10¢, 20¢, and 50¢ apiece! One dollar was a lot! Plus we were musicians, me from New York and Bill from Pittsburgh. It was in our blood to BARGAIN plus it was a lot of fun. You could almost say it was a kind of a sport or maybe a religion! RIDE! Well, Devora’s son didn’t want to bargain, so I gave him the GOLD! Bill didn’t buy anything. He already had an amazing record collection, and he wasn’t going to give up his hard earned money for records he didn’t need—“semies” we used to call them. Of course most of those “semies” were a lot of single artists and didn’t mean jack to Bill and me, but now, today, the way most music is, they sound like genius, mind blowing works of art and will now sell for $10 to $40 and up each, depending on the artist. It’s now called “Northern Soul!” It baffles me!

But that’s now! I’m telling you about THEN! RIDE! We thanked both Devora and her son, and then took in one more huge deep breath of Fortune Records air and headed back to Ann Arbor, never to return except in our dreams. When I got home, I put one of my 8x10 Five Dollar promo photos in my guitar case for good luck and blasted the John Lee Hooker/ Big Macio LP. I was VERY, VERY happy!

That brings us to 1975. I was now living in Cedar Rapids, Iowa playing with a really fine R&B Band, Lynn County. This was its last incarnation, the first being on Mercury Records in the late ‘60’s lead by the very talented song writer/ Hammond organist/ vocalist, the late Steve Miller who was from Cedar Rapids, which is in Lynn County, Iowa. I was with Steve the year before. He left our band to go with “Grinder Switch,” a southern rock band on Capricorn Records— big mistake! Well, like the wailin’ rockin’ song Steve wrote and recorded with Elvin Bishop back in ‘69, we were still “Partying ‘till the cows came home!” OH RIDE!

By 1976 I found myself with the band back in Ann Arbor playing a small club named The Roadhouse. It was way out on the outskirts of Ann Arbor.

I had never been there before. It seemed like it was out in the woods. One could get in a lot of good trouble out there! HA HA! My man and deer friend from Ann Arbor, the infamous “Chinner” Mitchle got us the gig and was traveling with us as our road manager/ MC/ singer/ and body guard.

The gig was going on just like any other gig. We were all having a real nice time, the music was cookin,’ and the juice was flowin.’ Chinner even had a pal bring us in a bunch of White Castles for that still and always needed “grease fix.” Can you dig it?

As I’m loading up on the Castles, Chinner comes over to me and says, ”Ace! Do you know who’s sittin’ in here?”

I’m blank as the Castles taste like file minion to my thavished pallet.

I say, “No Chin, who’s sittin’ in here?”

Chinner’s all excited like a kid and says, ”Ace! Andre Williams! Andre Williams is HERE! The Bacon Fat!”

I choke on the last bit of my slider. I just say, ”GOD DAMN! Andre Williams! Jail Bait! The Five Dollars! FORTUNE RECORDS! I have Andre’s photo in my guitar case! Where is he?”

Chinner point’s Andre out and tells me he’s with some of The Mojo Boogie Band. Cool, we know them from The Blues Buster days in Ann Arbor. Chinner and me approach Andre. Walter Shufflesworth, our record-collecting drummer is with us too. Walter really loves Andre’s “Pearl Time,” a solo effort 45. We all get to the table and say “hi” to The Mojo Boogie Band: ”Hog” Tate and Bill Lind. Then there’s Andre in a real cool three piece, bright red, ‘70’s pimp suit—very clean. I couldn’t see his shoes because they were under the table, but I knew they just had to be bad. Andre was overflowing with confidence, cool, and street smarts—just the way I thought he’d be. And as any other street-wise dude, Andre could see right through us. He could see we were pretty cool and just fans, so there was no problem at all. They were all probably there just to get a gig. I don’t think they came to see us. It really didn’t matter. What mattered was Andre Williams was in the house!

I asked Andre, ”Were you in The Five Dollars on Fortune?”

He was pretty taken aback as not too many people on the planet, especially back then, would have known The Five Dollars.

He very coolly, hardly smiling, and very proudly said, ”Yes!”

I said, “Wait here! I have something to show you! It may blow your mind!”

I rushed back stage to my bass case and grabbed the photo and a pen.

In one minute I was back at the table and showing Andre my photo. His eyes lit up. I could see he was taken by surprise, losing a fraction of that cool—but not much. The photo did slightly mind blow him.

Smiling and very coolly, not trying to act really moved but also with a lot of pride, Andre said to me ”I haven’t seen that in many, many years!”

My mind was flashing on what he must have really been thinking about while he was looking at that photo. I wanted to ask him but I didn’t. I asked him if he would sign the photo instead, and he agreed.

I had a red ballpoint pen—red like his suit!

That made my day and was a great moment for me!
I treasured and kept that photo in my bass case for years until it disintegrated into a small, illegible, tattered, two-inch piece of crumbled old paper with faded red ink. I wish I’d framed it.

In those years and into the early 1980’s, I traded all the 8x10 Five Dollars photos from Fortune for other 8x10 vocal group photos. I still have all the other stuff I found on that day—long ago—with Baseball Bill at Fortune Records in Detroit. Yea, OK, I’m a bit pissed I gave Bill the Chance 78 as now they sell from $100—$1,000 each. RARE! Bill is still my dear friend and he’s wailin’ more that ever. I just don’t get to see him too much.

About ten years ago a dear old friend who knows most of my memorabilia is in storage sent me a Fortune purple tee shirt with a picture of the 78 “Daddy Rockin’ Strong” by The Diablos on it. The tee shirt is on a coat hanger on my chest of draws right next to my bed to remind me of the good old times and what a great record company Fortune was.

Andre Williams is still alive and gigging. I still have one Five Dollars 8x10 photo left in my storage bin. To find it now would be like finding a needle in a haystack! MERCY!

The real sad thing to me, almost criminal, is that Fortune Records in Detroit like so many of America’s historical sites doesn’t exist any more. It was torn down in the middle 1990’s, and what a piece of Detroit’s and America’s musical history it was. Damn! It was before Motown was even thought of! Of course Fortune wasn’t the huge, hit-making machine that Motown was. In fact in all of Fortune’s years, the only real big hit that comes to mind is Nathaniel Mayers “Village Of Love” from 1962—and that was a good one—except for that bass singer’s totally bizarre, frog-like sounding voice on the intro!

“Why don’t you come? Why don’t come to?”“

Yea, get out that Robutussin AC! And Night Train! RIDE!

The way I saw it and still see it—Fortune Records wasn’t about making hit records. It was a little Mom and Pop business and was about a sound and people’s dreams. They made great records! I do know that Fortune Records is held very dear—like precious jewels in many people’s hearts—all over the world! You could even ask Smoky Robinson and he’d tell you that without Fortune Records there’d be no Smoky—that’s the truth!

I dedicate this story to the late Nolan Strong and Ronnie I of UGHA (United in Group Harmony) RIP.

Johnny Ace is still making music with his partner, blues singer Cathy Lemons, and can be reached through their website at: http://www.lemonace.com