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Studs Terkel and William (Bill) Leonard discuss their favorite memories of Frank Holzfeind and the Blue Note Jazz Club in Chicago

BROADCAST: Jan. 9, 1975 | DURATION: 00:29:40

Synopsis

Studs Terkel and William (Bill) Leonard share memories of the Blue Note Jazz Club as a tribute to Frank Holzfeind. Music is played throughout the episode: "After You've Gone" by the Benny Goodman Sextet, "The Flat Feet Floogie" by Slim and Slam, "How High the Moon" by Sarah Vaughan, "Destination K.C." by Count Basie, "West End Blues" by Louis Armstrong, "Lil' Augie Is A Natural One Man" by Chet Roble, and "Rock Skippin' at the Blue Note", Duke Ellington. Songs have been removed for copyright reasons.

Transcript

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Studs Terkel The very best friends jazz ever had is a man named Frank Holzfeind. He was the man who ran the Blue Note and there was no place like it in Chicago and the man who knows best about the Blue Note is a guy who knows best about so many things concerning Chicago, Bill Leonard. Bill, Chicago Tribune journalist, drama critic, nightclub critic, baseball encyclopedist, railroad--more than buff--railroad man. And Bill's knowledge of the Blue Note is unmatched, as well as his friendship of Frank Holzfeind. So, this morning is a tribute to Frank, and to the artists whom he pushed, indeed, let the public know during some of their bleaker days. So, this morning's program is dedicated to Frank Holzfeind and the years at the Blue Note and we'll hear Bill and the music after this message [pause in recording]. Who else but the Goodman Sextet. And immediately Bill Leonard is here and, Bill, start thinking of Benny Goodman, the Sextet, jazz and of course the Blue Note.

William Leonard Well, Benny was one of the first and greatest there [match striking] and I enjoyed that record, Studs, I hadn't heard in years. It brings back--it has a happy feeling and that's where when you talk about the Blue Note, that's what people say to this day. The Blue Note closed in 1960, and you say--I run into people all the time. I've been covering clubs, saloons, around this town for about 30 years, and everybody remembers the Blue Note happily. I run into musicians, musicians on tour when they get to Chicago to play somewhere, the first thing they say is where's Frank, how's Frank, have you seen Frank? How often do you see Frank? How's he feeling, you know? Tell him I said hello. And I give him Frank's home phone number and they'd call him. And the thing that typifies the Blue Note to me is that this feeling I've never experienced with any other artists or musicians or any other kinds of employees, waitresses, bartenders, or anybody else who worked for nightclub owners. Many nightclub owners have been respectable characters. [Lives in the hotel rooms?], or the Marienthals who ran Kelly's, and London House, and a lot of others. But a great many of them have been heels, and the men come back to town and if they want to talk about it and they say is that so-and-so in jail yet? And that kind of thing. But everybody loved Frank. Everybody still loves him. He paid all his debts. He made nothing but friends in the Blue Note. Like that record mix: happy memories. I looked at the sleeve while you were, while it was on the air and said Red Norvo was on vibes and I'm, it brought back something--it was always Lionel Hampton with Benny Goodman. Apparently not on that side though. But not too many years ago I was walking down Madison Street with Frank. The original Blue Note, you know Studs, was in the basement at 56 West Madison Street--

Studs Terkel How well I remember.

William Leonard And later it opened in 1940--November 1947. It was there for six or seven years, and they got chased out by high rents and they moved around the corner to upstairs at Three North Clark. But we were walking by the old place, which is now the RR-something, there was a place called the Ringside Ranch downstairs of the Clark Street Blue Note. They put on country and western music and sometimes you could hear the jazz and the country and western at the same time if you had good ears [chuckles]. The Ringside Ranch moved around to the old 56 West Madison Street location, it's now the RR Ranch, I think, or something like that. And Frank said come on in I want to look for something. And we walked in, he wanted to look for two things that were souvenirs of the old days of the long vanished Blue Note. One, he wanted to see if the door in the men's room had been repaired, and it had not. And the other one was in the ceiling over where the bandstand had been, Lionel Hampton used to throw his sticks up between, between strokes so hard they made dents in the ceilings and we used to go back and see if the dents were still there. And the last time we went it had one coat of paint too many and you can't see the dents anymore. The Blue Note is full of sentimental memories.

Studs Terkel Of course, as you think, we're talking of a man named Frank Holzfeind and what there is about him. This entrepreneur, this guy who ran the Blue--who was not a jazz man, was not a realtor, was not a big shot--he worked for railroads originally. But he had this particular feeling for jazz, wasn't that it?

William Leonard Well, he had a particular feeling for people, always. And he, he couldn't stand working in the Chicago Northwestern Railroad office, it was a little stuffy. Probably still is if there is--

Studs Terkel You know, Frank would be surprised. Frank Holzfeind who's here in this program, would be surprised at being compared to Gauguin, the artist. Gauguin was a banker, worked in a bank and one day he quit and gave it all to become an artist and go to the Tahitians. And here's Frank, who's working away as a good railroad man, but that's not the life he

William Leonard In the office.

Studs Terkel In the office. Something else he wanted and he did it. And of course, Bill, memories.

William Leonard He put in a suggestion one year that they start some bowling leagues, and he never got a thank you or anything else from it but the next thing he knew the bowling leagues were started. And he was appointed to do the work.

Studs Terkel I'm thinking back--

William Leonard Well, that's how he eventually get into the Blue Note, Studs. He managed bowling leagues for the Chicago Northwestern and then he was hired to manage bowling lanes on the North Side by Harold Wessel, and the lanes burned down. And as Frank says, he had all that pouring whiskey. He didn't want to sell it by the bottle, he wanted to have a bar so he could sell it by the drink, which is much more sensible to the owner. And they found this whole location down on Madison Street. And he used to listen to Dave Garroway's old show on the air and he said well, if jazz will work and I've been listening to Garroway, why wouldn't people come in and hear it in a nightclub? You know, there weren't any really nightclub jazz spots in those days. There were nightclubs and since that time there had been so many places featuring jazz. But jazz was, was not a thing in a full-scale nightclub anywhere, so the Blue Note was really the first of its kind.

Studs Terkel Frank really did it. We should talk about it before we hear Slim & Slam. He liked--he liked Slim Gaillard--but before that, Frank had this place called The Office that Bill knows so well, and I knew to some extent. A little table around, Frank would sit there with a martini and his glass of water and that was the trademark. Only certain people could sit there. But Frank would walk out whenever the drummers were going to drum solos, he hated drum solos.

William Leonard Especially when Duke Ellington was there. He and Duke had an old routine. Duke would introduce the drum solo, and he'd go off stage left and Frank would go around right end and they'd meet at the bar which was out of sight from the bandstand and they'd have a drink. And let the guy drum, drum, drum, drum, [mimics drum solo]. If they enjoyed it they'd have another drink and let the guy go for another chorus. When they were ready to go back, Duke would walk back out and the poor drummer would, would ease off and they'd resume playing. [laughter] And that was both Duke's estimate of drum solos, and Frank's, and mine.

Studs Terkel Yeah, Frank liked, not only did he like artists, musicians, but he loved guys who were colorful, and characters,

William Leonard This is why he liked Slim

Studs Terkel Slim Gaillard. Slim & Slam, of course we think of "Flat Foot Floogie". Oh you, we naturally always think, I think of Dave's 1160 Club. Dave Garroway's, as well as Frank's Blue Note, they were connected, in a sense. And so we come to Slim & Slam. There was one, Bill, one particular engagement, Bill Leonard, that you probably remember. It was at Christmas time, and Frank, by the way, hired the Weavers. And the Weavers, with Pete Seeger and big Lee Hays, were under attack. Frank's like, the hell with that. Frank just hired 'em, didn't give a damn what the McCarthy boys and the politicians were doing. He just did it.

William Leonard He did the same thing when he had a, he had Burl Ives there for one--did you know Burl Ives once played the Blue Note for a single Sunday matinee? He did a concert and somebody threw a stink bomb down the front stairs and then called the newspapers to tell the newspapers that somebody had thrown a stink bomb down the Blue Note's front stairs. Well, Frank's manager, Al Salomone, had called him and Frank said go out and get some heavy perfume and fix the place up and when the newspapers called to ask about it he says nothing like it, come on over, take a sniff of the joint. And that was that.

Studs Terkel At the time he had the Weavers, Slim & Slam. He had George Brunies, too, there at that time, too. George hadn't worked for some time, but Frank--there was the bill. Slim & Slam and "Flat Foot Floogie". Slim & Slam. Of course, I always think of--this was played a lot on Dave Garroway's 1160 Club. It was a midnight jazz show that Dave had, and of course you mentioned Dave

William Leonard Oh, let me tell you about Frank and Slim. Slim was, was a very irresponsible employee but he appealed to Frank. He always came in late and he, he did a show like those crazy guys at the Studebaker are doing right now. Frank, you know, Frank did I ever know--did you ever know that Frank did a Richard Milhous Nixon and was taping all those, almost all those shows back in his office? Just for his own edification.

Studs Terkel No.

William Leonard Well, he still has the tapes and he, he'll play ya, he'll play one of Slim Gaillard now and you forget how far out this man was. It was just completely no continuity at all, but wild fun. And there's one he has there where he gets some little kids up. It must have been at one of the Christmas parties, and he's playing with those kids. And I went out there, it was at Frank's house one time not long ago with Freddy Holstein. He'd heard about Slim Gaillard and wanted to hear him. And Fred said something about it, said nobody my age would believe this kind of thing ever happened. It was some wild, wild fun. And sad to say, he was very irresponsible. He'd show up late. If he was supposed to open on a Tuesday he'd arrive on Wednesday. And about the third or f--but Frank still loved him--and the third or fourth time he did that Frank said, "Now Slim, I'm not going to put up with this anymore." And Slim said, "I was sick, I couldn't come last night." He says, "You bring me a letter from your doctor that says you couldn't come last night and it'll be all right with me. Otherwise, I'm going to take you up on charges in front of the Musicians' Union." So the next night Slim came in and Frank said, "Did you bring the letter?" And he had the letter from his doctor, and it said "I have examined Mr. Gaillard and I find nothing wrong with him." [laughter] He asked the doctor for the letter, but he didn't bother reading it. So Frank said all right go out and play. [laughter]

Studs Terkel I think of the artists Frank put forth, and of course Sarah Vaughan is a very good example of one.

William Leonard Yeah. You know, I mentioned Dave Garroway before. Dave was largely responsible for--well, he was Frank's counselor and adviser in the early years although he never had, he never owned a piece of the Blue Note. A lot of people thought he was a partner, but he never did. It was his own enthusiasm that get him involved. And Frank went to the radio station to, what was it? 1160, what station was

Studs Terkel WMAQ.

William Leonard Yeah, that's right, WMAQ, and introduced himself to Dave, and asked him for some advice about putting a jazz--opening a club with live jazz. And Dave was very helpful to him and he suggested Sarah Vaughan, who was then an unknown. And I remember him listening to Dave push her on records at night. He had a facility or what seemed fantastic then, I suppose with today's equipment it wouldn't be as, wouldn't sound as difficult. But he'd take a Sarah Vaughan record and say now listen the way that she turns this phrase, or this note, you know? And then play this one note, or one phrase, but it was fascinating and it swept people off their feet. And she played the Blue Note frequently in those early years and got these tremendous buildups, and Dave and the Blue Note were very responsible for Sarah Vaughan and she knows it. She's a very great old gal and last time she was in, I think it was Mister Kelly's, I took her, I took Frank over there. They hadn't met before, before the show, and she hadn't seen him in years, and we were sitting at a table [unintelligible] said "And now Mister Kelly's proudly presents the Divine Sarah Vaughan!" And she started parading between the tables and she got by our table and she saw Frank, she says, "Frank!" And she leans over and started hugging him and kissing him and it delayed her entrance. It's a beautiful thing.

Studs Terkel Sarah Vaughan and "How High

William Leonard Good, that's a perfect one. That's the vintage. [pause

Studs Terkel Sarah Vaughan, "How High the Moon". Blue Note memories. Bill Leonard is a, is a--what's the phrase to use? Not--more than guide, what Virgil was to Dante. I'm not Dante, but he's Virgil.

William Leonard I'm Holzfeind's Boswell. [laughter]

Studs Terkel As Sarah Vaughan was singing, there was scat singing there, too. And of course, memories of Louis Armstrong who was the first of those singers. Armstrong played the Note a great deal.

William Leonard Well, you can see--if you listen to early Sarah there, you can see the, what Dave could do with that thing. This was a fairly new kind of singing and the way he could pick out of a 10-second lick in there when she would, would bend the note. Well, I'm convinced, and everybody agrees, how [of course] Sarah Vaughan will say herself she really got started, got put on the map at the Blue Note.

Studs Terkel Yeah.

William Leonard Not many did, most of the acts that Frank hired came, came from out of town, of course. They were booked by booking agents. He brought Oscar Peterson down from Canada. This was the first date Oscar ever played outside of

Studs Terkel Didn't some of the, some of the artists who became the more celebrated and more expensive, didn't they say they still want to return to the Blue Note even though they could get more dough elsewhere?

William Leonard Oh yeah, there's that famous story about Nat Cole who was a very sweet guy. I mean Nat was, everybody knows was a wonderful fella. So many of these acts--Frank, you know, has a complete set of all the contracts he ever signed with these acts, and they'd play for him for a thousand dollars one year, two thousand the next, five thousand the next, and ask eight thousand the next and it was, it was one of the earliest areas of inflation in this country. It was because if they worked for him for nothing, they'd get a hit record and then come back next year and then they were worth more money. They were worth more and he paid more. But sometimes it did--it became very trying. Very, very pressing now. The story about Nat Cole is that he worked for Frank one year, this was after they were upstairs in the Clar--Three North Clark, and I don't know what--anyway he just died. He was, he was fairly well known, but I guess he didn't--hadn't had a hit record, or maybe the weather wasn't right, or temporarily the economy wasn't right or something was wrong and it was, it was a disaster. And the following year, I remember it was in the summertime, because I was there. He was, he came back, and his agent wanted--suggested that Frank pay him about twice as much. And Nat, being a great guy that he was, he says no, we owe one to Frank, he said, we're gonna work for what we had last year and the agent said you got to be crazy. You've been getting twice as much, you know? Last year, last week, and the week after the Blue Note, why should you? And he said I just owe it to him. And I remem--I went in there one night and Frank said that the night before, Nat had the, had a line standing all the way down the stairs and around the Hamburger On A Bun on the corner, and half partway down the, toward Dearborn. And Nat said to him, well are we doing a little better this year, Frank, for ya? You know, isn't that a nice story? Just as, just as Frank had a reputation like that among saloon owners, Nat had the same kind of reputation among artists.

Studs Terkel Thinking about the various other ones, well of course Basie. The Basie Band.

William Leonard That was one of Frank's personal favorites. Bill, Bill Basie, yeah. I don't think he ever called him anything but Bill. They're, the big bands--you forget, oh you forget about big bands, now. When people think of the Blue Note, they think of the Sarah Vaughans, and they think of the individual artists, the Oscar Petersons, and the George Shearings, and piano stars, and the singers, and that kind of thing. But that old Blue Note, especially that down place, downstairs place, was a fantastic room for big bands. You remember, Studs. The ceiling was just--you can almost jump up and touch it. If you were a present-day basketball player you'd of had to stoop. [laughter] The acoustics--I remember being in there one night at closing time. It was one of the most rousing things I've ever heard. Duke Ellington was on and he decided to close with that old number, "One O'Clock Jump", and the reverberations--the building department should have been in and inspected the place. The way he had rattled and shook and roared. It was great, but the big bands, The Basies and those, sounded about as exciting at the Blue Note--they sound much more exciting at the Blue Note than they do at Ravinia, or at the Chicago Theater, or the Auditorium, or somewhere like that. It's--a big band should be--can be an intimate thing.

Studs Terkel Yeah, Big band, intimate thing. That's, that's an interesting point you're making, of course, the climate, the area, the time, all were related. Sure, they'd play at big parks and it's fine, it's good and people who can't hear them otherwise would, but at the Blue Note, you know, there's something

William Leonard You were in the middle of the band. You felt as if you were--you had quadraphonic sound without amplification.

Studs Terkel So we'll hear, this is Basie, not with the big band, but Basie with his group, the, it's about six, seven he's got here, and I think Lester Young's on it, too, and some of the powerhouses associated with Basie who became also artists as themselves, too. Here then--Kansas City was one of the locales of Basie, so it's "Destination K.C.", and a Holzfeind favorite, Basie. Oh, that Basie. I suppose if there were a symbol, before we take our slight breakdown, listen to our announcer and the message, the symbol of the joy of Blue Note was in that very number, in that very--"Jump for Joy," was Basie. It also was Frank Holzfeind of the Blue Note, Bill.

William Leonard That kind of thing, yeah. They sang the blues there and that kind of thing, but it essentially was a place you went to have a good time. It's not like some of the concerts now with the, with the rock and the downbeat atmosphere and wreck the furniture.

Studs Terkel We'll come to real Blues in a moment, Blues at the Blue Note, in a moment after we hear this message. We'll return with Bill Leonard and memories of Frank Holzfeind of the Blue Note. [Pause in recording]. What better way to open the second half than these rather, rather important to me, I know to Bill Leonard, too. That's a certain piece of music played by none other than Armstrong and then Bill's reflections on hearing it. [Pause in recording]. So, "West End Blues", Armstrong.

William Leonard You know, we started the first half with "After You've Gone", Studs, whether you realize it or not we're talking about the Blue Note. And if you say "After You've Gone" our dear old Blue Note's been gone for 13 years and we start the second half with another one that brings memories. I needn't point out to you that used to be your theme song. That used to open your show, the one we opened the second half of here.

Studs Terkel Yeah.

William Leonard [unintelligible] Dear old Louis Armstrong.

Studs Terkel And of course, he played the Note very often. He'd come back, too.

William Leonard Many times. He played there with his All Stars in later years but he played there earlier, and he was, he was an easy man to get along with, very lovable guy. I remember Frank--I wasn't there, and this didn't happen at the Blue Note, but Frank told me about a big party they had for Louis at the Southside somewhere one Sunday afternoon, and the next day Frank told me this man--you should see him living like a king. He was sitting in a rocking chair and he had two aides, let's say. One to his, at his left hand and one at his right opening shrimp as fast as they could and handing him to Louis, and he was eating shrimps as fast as two men could open them and hand them to

Studs Terkel And I remember, of course, at the Note, Armstrong and Jack Teagarden together, of course, in the All Stars.

William Leonard [unintelligible] and the All

Studs Terkel They

William Leonard I told you before there's one wonderful--one of, in Frank's tapes, that he was making in the back room, and he has them at home, they're not for commercial use. There's one where Fra--where Louis is playing, and while he's onstage working he sees Billie Holiday walking in. And the Blue Note was always an informal place, you know. It was a family place, it really was. There was no place ever like it before or since. And on this tape, he's singing low, and he interrupts and he says, "Hey Lady Day! Come on, get up here, we gonna sing!" And she comes up and sings with Louis and you know anybody who has a recording of Louis Armstrong singing with Billie Holiday? That's the only one I know of.

Studs Terkel Frank, Frank

William Leonard That Louis, that's the way people were at the Blue Note, there was--Frank, I remember, used to say when, he'd be warned about musicians in advance when they're coming in, some of them were hard to get along with. And he was told that, oh, certain guys, Pres Young, and, you know, he's going to be tough. And Frank'd just, say, he never had any trouble with the guy. They, I guess they, of course they respected Holzfeind because they knew he was a different type of guy. There's a story about Louis Armstrong, I mean, about Benny Goodman when he was opening. Frank had never met him and he saw Benny come in, and he went over and introduced himself. And Benny went around and looked at the mics, and looked at the set up, and all this kind of thing, and he said what are we playing? Frank said, he said what do we do? 40 minutes on, 40 off? How many sets? And Frank said I don't care if you just do three sets, do whatever you want, you know, you're the star. And Benny didn't respond very live much, very much to that. But on the second or third night he was there, the place was packed and he finished his third set and Goodman came over to Frank and said, "Frank, we can't disappoint all these people, What do you say we play another set?" He offered to play

Studs Terkel another Yeah.

William Leonard You don't get paid extra for that, you know. It was just out of the--it was a real pro recognizing the, another

Studs Terkel You know, Bill, you're touching on something here that you mentioned earlier, too, that Frank Holzfeind was a singular kind of nightclub owner. Nightclub owners generally are a, of a certain world, aren't they? Nightclub owners in general.

William Leonard Well, so often it's--

Studs Terkel As you know so

William Leonard well. So many of them, I can't make a blanket statement, but there have been a certain percentage of nightclub owners who have made a buck somewhere, and they want to get, take a bow, and have half a foot in show business, and stand out in front and greet people, and they think the only thing they can think of is to open a joint. And they open--that's what it is, it's a joint. And in six months it's gone. And the poor guys that work for 'em, well, people wonder why there's a Musicians' Union, and a Stagehands' Union, and an Equity. It's because these fly-by-night people used to gyp the poor working man out of his money. And when you talk about the Musicians' Union, now there were too many musicians who were cheated over the years by nightclub owners and other promoters. And a man like Frank was a complete exception. If you go to work for the Empire Room at the Palmer House you know you're working with respectable people and that kind of thing. But there are places on side streets around Chicago, I'm biting my tongue not to mention them because I dislike them so much. They still exist and you know it.

Studs Terkel The other aspect we see, people working for nightclub owners, Frank, every now and then I meet some, she's older now, a waitress, a number of them there, they were young and they're a little older now.

William Leonard Oh, sure.

Studs Terkel And they remember, they always speak of that, of the Blue Note, working

William Leonard Oh, of course, with great pride. I have, this happens to me all the time when I was still covering clubs around town, these waitresses come up and they, they're very proud, and they said there will never be another Blue Note will there, Mr. Leonard? And how is Frank? And will you tell him I said hello? And all that kind of thing. I've, I've never had that experience with any other clubs.

Studs Terkel You know, one of Frank's favorites was someone you and I, of course, both knew very well, as Chet Roble, who worked for a long time at the Sherman Hotel, where he was euchred later on. And he was the draw at the bar, at the Sherman, the piano bar, and Chet, of course, and the Blue Note is a special moment, too.

William Leonard Well, Chet was a Chicago boy and the Blue Note was a Chicago institution and they were meant for one another. And Chet was a, would you say he--no, you where the, you were the narrator on the very first folk song programs that ever came to Chicago. Frank--how did that start? You were--was it your idea? That the--you had a show, I Come for to Sing--

Studs Terkel Yeah.

William Leonard I know Frank didn't originate it, somebody must have gone to Frank, it was of folk songs.

Studs Terkel Way back we did it at universities off

William Leonard Oh, that's right. You had done the show before the days

Studs Terkel That is at universities. You know, a special night that traveled, with Win Stracke, Big Bill Broonzy, and Larry Lane, Elizabethan singer. And later at the Blue Note, Chet Roble joined us there. And Frank took a re--well, let's see, I might as well say it, Frank took a big chance. Of course, this, he never had this kind of thing. It was Monday--why don't you tell it--Monday nights at the Blue Note.

William Leonard Well, of course Monday nights was the night the regular musicians were off and Frank was playing--paying the rent on the room he might as well have it lit as have it stand empty. So, he took a chance and put I Come for to Sing in, and the format--it was, it was very great. It was ahead of its time, that's all, Studs. You were the narrator and as I remember the people were well cast. Chet played big city folk and jazz, and Win Stracke played the old-fashioned traditional kind of folk songs, and as only he could. And Big Bill Broonzy did the Blues. And that's pretty good casting and-

Studs Terkel Larry

William Leonard Larry Lane. What became of Larry Lane?

Studs Terkel He sings the national anthem at the, at the, at the opening of hockey games at the Stadium.

William Leonard Love to see it. Does he wear his red velvet vest?

Studs Terkel He wore one of his

William Leonard

Studs Terkel The very best friends jazz ever had is a man named Frank Holzfeind. He was the man who ran the Blue Note and there was no place like it in Chicago and the man who knows best about the Blue Note is a guy who knows best about so many things concerning Chicago, Bill Leonard. Bill, Chicago Tribune journalist, drama critic, nightclub critic, baseball encyclopedist, railroad--more than buff--railroad man. And Bill's knowledge of the Blue Note is unmatched, as well as his friendship of Frank Holzfeind. So, this morning is a tribute to Frank, and to the artists whom he pushed, indeed, let the public know during some of their bleaker days. So, this morning's program is dedicated to Frank Holzfeind and the years at the Blue Note and we'll hear Bill and the music after this message [pause in recording]. Who else but the Goodman Sextet. And immediately Bill Leonard is here and, Bill, start thinking of Benny Goodman, the Sextet, jazz and of course the Blue Note. Well, Benny was one of the first and greatest there [match striking] and I enjoyed that record, Studs, I hadn't heard in years. It brings back--it has a happy feeling and that's where when you talk about the Blue Note, that's what people say to this day. The Blue Note closed in 1960, and you say--I run into people all the time. I've been covering clubs, saloons, around this town for about 30 years, and everybody remembers the Blue Note happily. I run into musicians, musicians on tour when they get to Chicago to play somewhere, the first thing they say is where's Frank, how's Frank, have you seen Frank? How often do you see Frank? How's he feeling, you know? Tell him I said hello. And I give him Frank's home phone number and they'd call him. And the thing that typifies the Blue Note to me is that this feeling I've never experienced with any other artists or musicians or any other kinds of employees, waitresses, bartenders, or anybody else who worked for nightclub owners. Many nightclub owners have been respectable characters. [Lives in the hotel rooms?], or the Marienthals who ran Kelly's, and London House, and a lot of others. But a great many of them have been heels, and the men come back to town and if they want to talk about it and they say is that so-and-so in jail yet? And that kind of thing. But everybody loved Frank. Everybody still loves him. He paid all his debts. He made nothing but friends in the Blue Note. Like that record mix: happy memories. I looked at the sleeve while you were, while it was on the air and said Red Norvo was on vibes and I'm, it brought back something--it was always Lionel Hampton with Benny Goodman. Apparently not on that side though. But not too many years ago I was walking down Madison Street with Frank. The original Blue Note, you know Studs, was in the basement at 56 West Madison Street-- How well I remember. And later it opened in 1940--November 1947. It was there for six or seven years, and they got chased out by high rents and they moved around the corner to upstairs at Three North Clark. But we were walking by the old place, which is now the RR-something, there was a place called the Ringside Ranch downstairs of the Clark Street Blue Note. They put on country and western music and sometimes you could hear the jazz and the country and western at the same time if you had good ears [chuckles]. The Ringside Ranch moved around to the old 56 West Madison Street location, it's now the RR Ranch, I think, or something like that. And Frank said come on in I want to look for something. And we walked in, he wanted to look for two things that were souvenirs of the old days of the long vanished Blue Note. One, he wanted to see if the door in the men's room had been repaired, and it had not. And the other one was in the ceiling over where the bandstand had been, Lionel Hampton used to throw his sticks up between, between strokes so hard they made dents in the ceilings and we used to go back and see if the dents were still there. And the last time we went it had one coat of paint too many and you can't see the dents anymore. The Blue Note is full of sentimental memories. Of course, as you think, we're talking of a man named Frank Holzfeind and what there is about him. This entrepreneur, this guy who ran the Blue--who was not a jazz man, was not a realtor, was not a big shot--he worked for railroads originally. But he had this particular feeling for jazz, wasn't that it? Well, he had a particular feeling for people, always. And he, he couldn't stand working in the Chicago Northwestern Railroad office, it was a little stuffy. Probably still is if there is-- You know, Frank would be surprised. Frank Holzfeind who's here in this program, would be surprised at being compared to Gauguin, the artist. Gauguin was a banker, worked in a bank and one day he quit and gave it all to become an artist and go to the Tahitians. And here's Frank, who's working away as a good railroad man, but that's not the life he wants. In the office. In the office. Something else he wanted and he did it. And of course, Bill, memories. He put in a suggestion one year that they start some bowling leagues, and he never got a thank you or anything else from it but the next thing he knew the bowling leagues were started. And he was appointed to do the work. I'm thinking back-- Well, that's how he eventually get into the Blue Note, Studs. He managed bowling leagues for the Chicago Northwestern and then he was hired to manage bowling lanes on the North Side by Harold Wessel, and the lanes burned down. And as Frank says, he had all that pouring whiskey. He didn't want to sell it by the bottle, he wanted to have a bar so he could sell it by the drink, which is much more sensible to the owner. And they found this whole location down on Madison Street. And he used to listen to Dave Garroway's old show on the air and he said well, if jazz will work and I've been listening to Garroway, why wouldn't people come in and hear it in a nightclub? You know, there weren't any really nightclub jazz spots in those days. There were nightclubs and since that time there had been so many places featuring jazz. But jazz was, was not a thing in a full-scale nightclub anywhere, so the Blue Note was really the first of its kind. Frank really did it. We should talk about it before we hear Slim & Slam. He liked--he liked Slim Gaillard--but before that, Frank had this place called The Office that Bill knows so well, and I knew to some extent. A little table around, Frank would sit there with a martini and his glass of water and that was the trademark. Only certain people could sit there. But Frank would walk out whenever the drummers were going to drum solos, he hated drum solos. Especially when Duke Ellington was there. He and Duke had an old routine. Duke would introduce the drum solo, and he'd go off stage left and Frank would go around right end and they'd meet at the bar which was out of sight from the bandstand and they'd have a drink. And let the guy drum, drum, drum, drum, [mimics drum solo]. If they enjoyed it they'd have another drink and let the guy go for another chorus. When they were ready to go back, Duke would walk back out and the poor drummer would, would ease off and they'd resume playing. [laughter] And that was both Duke's estimate of drum solos, and Frank's, and mine. Yeah, Frank liked, not only did he like artists, musicians, but he loved guys who were colorful, and characters, This is why he liked Slim Gaillard. Slim Gaillard. Slim & Slam, of course we think of "Flat Foot Floogie". Oh you, we naturally always think, I think of Dave's 1160 Club. Dave Garroway's, as well as Frank's Blue Note, they were connected, in a sense. And so we come to Slim & Slam. There was one, Bill, one particular engagement, Bill Leonard, that you probably remember. It was at Christmas time, and Frank, by the way, hired the Weavers. And the Weavers, with Pete Seeger and big Lee Hays, were under attack. Frank's like, the hell with that. Frank just hired 'em, didn't give a damn what the McCarthy boys and the politicians were doing. He just did it. He did the same thing when he had a, he had Burl Ives there for one--did you know Burl Ives once played the Blue Note for a single Sunday matinee? He did a concert and somebody threw a stink bomb down the front stairs and then called the newspapers to tell the newspapers that somebody had thrown a stink bomb down the Blue Note's front stairs. Well, Frank's manager, Al Salomone, had called him and Frank said go out and get some heavy perfume and fix the place up and when the newspapers called to ask about it he says nothing like it, come on over, take a sniff of the joint. And that was that. At the time he had the Weavers, Slim & Slam. He had George Brunies, too, there at that time, too. George hadn't worked for some time, but Frank--there was the bill. Slim & Slam and "Flat Foot Floogie". Slim & Slam. Of course, I always think of--this was played a lot on Dave Garroway's 1160 Club. It was a midnight jazz show that Dave had, and of course you mentioned Dave [unintelligible]-- Oh, let me tell you about Frank and Slim. Slim was, was a very irresponsible employee but he appealed to Frank. He always came in late and he, he did a show like those crazy guys at the Studebaker are doing right now. Frank, you know, Frank did I ever know--did you ever know that Frank did a Richard Milhous Nixon and was taping all those, almost all those shows back in his office? Just for his own edification. No. Well, he still has the tapes and he, he'll play ya, he'll play one of Slim Gaillard now and you forget how far out this man was. It was just completely no continuity at all, but wild fun. And there's one he has there where he gets some little kids up. It must have been at one of the Christmas parties, and he's playing with those kids. And I went out there, it was at Frank's house one time not long ago with Freddy Holstein. He'd heard about Slim Gaillard and wanted to hear him. And Fred said something about it, said nobody my age would believe this kind of thing ever happened. It was some wild, wild fun. And sad to say, he was very irresponsible. He'd show up late. If he was supposed to open on a Tuesday he'd arrive on Wednesday. And about the third or f--but Frank still loved him--and the third or fourth time he did that Frank said, "Now Slim, I'm not going to put up with this anymore." And Slim said, "I was sick, I couldn't come last night." He says, "You bring me a letter from your doctor that says you couldn't come last night and it'll be all right with me. Otherwise, I'm going to take you up on charges in front of the Musicians' Union." So the next night Slim came in and Frank said, "Did you bring the letter?" And he had the letter from his doctor, and it said "I have examined Mr. Gaillard and I find nothing wrong with him." [laughter] He asked the doctor for the letter, but he didn't bother reading it. So Frank said all right go out and play. [laughter] I think of the artists Frank put forth, and of course Sarah Vaughan is a very good example of one. Yeah. You know, I mentioned Dave Garroway before. Dave was largely responsible for--well, he was Frank's counselor and adviser in the early years although he never had, he never owned a piece of the Blue Note. A lot of people thought he was a partner, but he never did. It was his own enthusiasm that get him involved. And Frank went to the radio station to, what was it? 1160, what station was that? WMAQ. Yeah, that's right, WMAQ, and introduced himself to Dave, and asked him for some advice about putting a jazz--opening a club with live jazz. And Dave was very helpful to him and he suggested Sarah Vaughan, who was then an unknown. And I remember him listening to Dave push her on records at night. He had a facility or what seemed fantastic then, I suppose with today's equipment it wouldn't be as, wouldn't sound as difficult. But he'd take a Sarah Vaughan record and say now listen the way that she turns this phrase, or this note, you know? And then play this one note, or one phrase, but it was fascinating and it swept people off their feet. And she played the Blue Note frequently in those early years and got these tremendous buildups, and Dave and the Blue Note were very responsible for Sarah Vaughan and she knows it. She's a very great old gal and last time she was in, I think it was Mister Kelly's, I took her, I took Frank over there. They hadn't met before, before the show, and she hadn't seen him in years, and we were sitting at a table [unintelligible] said "And now Mister Kelly's proudly presents the Divine Sarah Vaughan!" And she started parading between the tables and she got by our table and she saw Frank, she says, "Frank!" And she leans over and started hugging him and kissing him and it delayed her entrance. It's a beautiful thing. Sarah Vaughan and "How High the Good, that's a perfect one. That's the vintage. [pause Sarah Vaughan, "How High the Moon". Blue Note memories. Bill Leonard is a, is a--what's the phrase to use? Not--more than guide, what Virgil was to Dante. I'm not Dante, but he's Virgil. I'm Holzfeind's Boswell. [laughter] As Sarah Vaughan was singing, there was scat singing there, too. And of course, memories of Louis Armstrong who was the first of those singers. Armstrong played the Note a great deal. Well, you can see--if you listen to early Sarah there, you can see the, what Dave could do with that thing. This was a fairly new kind of singing and the way he could pick out of a 10-second lick in there when she would, would bend the note. Well, I'm convinced, and everybody agrees, how [of course] Sarah Vaughan will say herself she really got started, got put on the map at the Blue Note. Yeah. Not many did, most of the acts that Frank hired came, came from out of town, of course. They were booked by booking agents. He brought Oscar Peterson down from Canada. This was the first date Oscar ever played outside of Canada. Didn't some of the, some of the artists who became the more celebrated and more expensive, didn't they say they still want to return to the Blue Note even though they could get more dough elsewhere? Oh yeah, there's that famous story about Nat Cole who was a very sweet guy. I mean Nat was, everybody knows was a wonderful fella. So many of these acts--Frank, you know, has a complete set of all the contracts he ever signed with these acts, and they'd play for him for a thousand dollars one year, two thousand the next, five thousand the next, and ask eight thousand the next and it was, it was one of the earliest areas of inflation in this country. It was because if they worked for him for nothing, they'd get a hit record and then come back next year and then they were worth more money. They were worth more and he paid more. But sometimes it did--it became very trying. Very, very pressing now. The story about Nat Cole is that he worked for Frank one year, this was after they were upstairs in the Clar--Three North Clark, and I don't know what--anyway he just died. He was, he was fairly well known, but I guess he didn't--hadn't had a hit record, or maybe the weather wasn't right, or temporarily the economy wasn't right or something was wrong and it was, it was a disaster. And the following year, I remember it was in the summertime, because I was there. He was, he came back, and his agent wanted--suggested that Frank pay him about twice as much. And Nat, being a great guy that he was, he says no, we owe one to Frank, he said, we're gonna work for what we had last year and the agent said you got to be crazy. You've been getting twice as much, you know? Last year, last week, and the week after the Blue Note, why should you? And he said I just owe it to him. And I remem--I went in there one night and Frank said that the night before, Nat had the, had a line standing all the way down the stairs and around the Hamburger On A Bun on the corner, and half partway down the, toward Dearborn. And Nat said to him, well are we doing a little better this year, Frank, for ya? You know, isn't that a nice story? Just as, just as Frank had a reputation like that among saloon owners, Nat had the same kind of reputation among artists. Thinking about the various other ones, well of course Basie. The Basie Band. That was one of Frank's personal favorites. Bill, Bill Basie, yeah. I don't think he ever called him anything but Bill. They're, the big bands--you forget, oh you forget about big bands, now. When people think of the Blue Note, they think of the Sarah Vaughans, and they think of the individual artists, the Oscar Petersons, and the George Shearings, and piano stars, and the singers, and that kind of thing. But that old Blue Note, especially that down place, downstairs place, was a fantastic room for big bands. You remember, Studs. The ceiling was just--you can almost jump up and touch it. If you were a present-day basketball player you'd of had to stoop. [laughter] The acoustics--I remember being in there one night at closing time. It was one of the most rousing things I've ever heard. Duke Ellington was on and he decided to close with that old number, "One O'Clock Jump", and the reverberations--the building department should have been in and inspected the place. The way he had rattled and shook and roared. It was great, but the big bands, The Basies and those, sounded about as exciting at the Blue Note--they sound much more exciting at the Blue Note than they do at Ravinia, or at the Chicago Theater, or the Auditorium, or somewhere like that. It's--a big band should be--can be an intimate thing. Yeah, Big band, intimate thing. That's, that's an interesting point you're making, of course, the climate, the area, the time, all were related. Sure, they'd play at big parks and it's fine, it's good and people who can't hear them otherwise would, but at the Blue Note, you know, there's something You were in the middle of the band. You felt as if you were--you had quadraphonic sound without amplification. So we'll hear, this is Basie, not with the big band, but Basie with his group, the, it's about six, seven he's got here, and I think Lester Young's on it, too, and some of the powerhouses associated with Basie who became also artists as themselves, too. Here then--Kansas City was one of the locales of Basie, so it's "Destination K.C.", and a Holzfeind favorite, Basie. Oh, that Basie. I suppose if there were a symbol, before we take our slight breakdown, listen to our announcer and the message, the symbol of the joy of Blue Note was in that very number, in that very--"Jump for Joy," was Basie. It also was Frank Holzfeind of the Blue Note, Bill. That kind of thing, yeah. They sang the blues there and that kind of thing, but it essentially was a place you went to have a good time. It's not like some of the concerts now with the, with the rock and the downbeat atmosphere and wreck the furniture. We'll come to real Blues in a moment, Blues at the Blue Note, in a moment after we hear this message. We'll return with Bill Leonard and memories of Frank Holzfeind of the Blue Note. [Pause in recording]. What better way to open the second half than these rather, rather important to me, I know to Bill Leonard, too. That's a certain piece of music played by none other than Armstrong and then Bill's reflections on hearing it. [Pause in recording]. So, "West End Blues", Armstrong. You know, we started the first half with "After You've Gone", Studs, whether you realize it or not we're talking about the Blue Note. And if you say "After You've Gone" our dear old Blue Note's been gone for 13 years and we start the second half with another one that brings memories. I needn't point out to you that used to be your theme song. That used to open your show, the one we opened the second half of here. Yeah. [unintelligible] Dear old Louis Armstrong. And of course, he played the Note very often. He'd come back, too. Many times. He played there with his All Stars in later years but he played there earlier, and he was, he was an easy man to get along with, very lovable guy. I remember Frank--I wasn't there, and this didn't happen at the Blue Note, but Frank told me about a big party they had for Louis at the Southside somewhere one Sunday afternoon, and the next day Frank told me this man--you should see him living like a king. He was sitting in a rocking chair and he had two aides, let's say. One to his, at his left hand and one at his right opening shrimp as fast as they could and handing him to Louis, and he was eating shrimps as fast as two men could open them and hand them to him. And I remember, of course, at the Note, Armstrong and Jack Teagarden together, of course, in the All Stars. [unintelligible] and the All They I told you before there's one wonderful--one of, in Frank's tapes, that he was making in the back room, and he has them at home, they're not for commercial use. There's one where Fra--where Louis is playing, and while he's onstage working he sees Billie Holiday walking in. And the Blue Note was always an informal place, you know. It was a family place, it really was. There was no place ever like it before or since. And on this tape, he's singing low, and he interrupts and he says, "Hey Lady Day! Come on, get up here, we gonna sing!" And she comes up and sings with Louis and you know anybody who has a recording of Louis Armstrong singing with Billie Holiday? That's the only one I know of. Frank, Frank has-- That Louis, that's the way people were at the Blue Note, there was--Frank, I remember, used to say when, he'd be warned about musicians in advance when they're coming in, some of them were hard to get along with. And he was told that, oh, certain guys, Pres Young, and, you know, he's going to be tough. And Frank'd just, say, he never had any trouble with the guy. They, I guess they, of course they respected Holzfeind because they knew he was a different type of guy. There's a story about Louis Armstrong, I mean, about Benny Goodman when he was opening. Frank had never met him and he saw Benny come in, and he went over and introduced himself. And Benny went around and looked at the mics, and looked at the set up, and all this kind of thing, and he said what are we playing? Frank said, he said what do we do? 40 minutes on, 40 off? How many sets? And Frank said I don't care if you just do three sets, do whatever you want, you know, you're the star. And Benny didn't respond very live much, very much to that. But on the second or third night he was there, the place was packed and he finished his third set and Goodman came over to Frank and said, "Frank, we can't disappoint all these people, What do you say we play another set?" He offered to play another Yeah. You don't get paid extra for that, you know. It was just out of the--it was a real pro recognizing the, another regular You know, Bill, you're touching on something here that you mentioned earlier, too, that Frank Holzfeind was a singular kind of nightclub owner. Nightclub owners generally are a, of a certain world, aren't they? Nightclub owners in general. Well, so often it's-- As you know so well. So many of them, I can't make a blanket statement, but there have been a certain percentage of nightclub owners who have made a buck somewhere, and they want to get, take a bow, and have half a foot in show business, and stand out in front and greet people, and they think the only thing they can think of is to open a joint. And they open--that's what it is, it's a joint. And in six months it's gone. And the poor guys that work for 'em, well, people wonder why there's a Musicians' Union, and a Stagehands' Union, and an Equity. It's because these fly-by-night people used to gyp the poor working man out of his money. And when you talk about the Musicians' Union, now there were too many musicians who were cheated over the years by nightclub owners and other promoters. And a man like Frank was a complete exception. If you go to work for the Empire Room at the Palmer House you know you're working with respectable people and that kind of thing. But there are places on side streets around Chicago, I'm biting my tongue not to mention them because I dislike them so much. They still exist and you know it. The other aspect we see, people working for nightclub owners, Frank, every now and then I meet some, she's older now, a waitress, a number of them there, they were young and they're a little older now. Oh, sure. And they remember, they always speak of that, of the Blue Note, working there. Oh, of course, with great pride. I have, this happens to me all the time when I was still covering clubs around town, these waitresses come up and they, they're very proud, and they said there will never be another Blue Note will there, Mr. Leonard? And how is Frank? And will you tell him I said hello? And all that kind of thing. I've, I've never had that experience with any other clubs. You know, one of Frank's favorites was someone you and I, of course, both knew very well, as Chet Roble, who worked for a long time at the Sherman Hotel, where he was euchred later on. And he was the draw at the bar, at the Sherman, the piano bar, and Chet, of course, and the Blue Note is a special moment, too. Well, Chet was a Chicago boy and the Blue Note was a Chicago institution and they were meant for one another. And Chet was a, would you say he--no, you where the, you were the narrator on the very first folk song programs that ever came to Chicago. Frank--how did that start? You were--was it your idea? That the--you had a show, I Come for to Sing-- Yeah. I know Frank didn't originate it, somebody must have gone to Frank, it was of folk songs. Way back we did it at universities off and Oh, that's right. You had done the show before the days of That is at universities. You know, a special night that traveled, with Win Stracke, Big Bill Broonzy, and Larry Lane, Elizabethan singer. And later at the Blue Note, Chet Roble joined us there. And Frank took a re--well, let's see, I might as well say it, Frank took a big chance. Of course, this, he never had this kind of thing. It was Monday--why don't you tell it--Monday nights at the Blue Note. Well, of course Monday nights was the night the regular musicians were off and Frank was playing--paying the rent on the room he might as well have it lit as have it stand empty. So, he took a chance and put I Come for to Sing in, and the format--it was, it was very great. It was ahead of its time, that's all, Studs. You were the narrator and as I remember the people were well cast. Chet played big city folk and jazz, and Win Stracke played the old-fashioned traditional kind of folk songs, and as only he could. And Big Bill Broonzy did the Blues. And that's pretty good casting and- Larry Larry Lane. What became of Larry Lane? He sings the national anthem at the, at the, at the opening of hockey games at the Stadium. [laughter] Love to see it. Does he wear his red velvet vest? He wore one of his Elizabethan-- Yes. Vests

William Leonard And Larry sang Elizabethan folk songs. And it was a great package, it was a four-way thing, and once in a while, if Big Bill Broonzy had g--wasn't there, you had other fill ins. And you had Tampa Red--

Studs Terkel Tampa Red, Memphis Minnie.

William Leonard Yeah.

Studs Terkel And--

William Leonard I think it was always four, but the thing revolved slightly.

Studs Terkel No, four. That's right. That's right. And that, the Monday nights were quite remarkable. You were there almost every Monday night, [unintelligible]?

William Leonard I'm thinking of the time that--I say when Big Bill wasn't there. You tell that

Studs Terkel I better tell that, yeah, well that's, it involves--well, it was nine o'clock or so, the first show begins about 9:00. It's about 8:55, and Bill isn't there, and we're all waiting and it was a jam that night. It was a big crowd. I forget the occasion, it was a tremendous crowd for some reason. So-

William Leonard That was a switch.

Studs Terkel And so--it was!--and so, I call up Bill's home and his wife answers, well Bill's on his way. I said, oh great, so we'll stall it a bit, maybe Win will sing a song, or Chet, and I'll horse around. And she said he's on his way to London. I says what? To London? He's left for London? So, we filled in that night and as a last-minute call, and then I think Memphis Minnie showed up and she was quite remarkable. But later on, Bill did show after he came back from London. Well that was--some memories of [bless and burn?] [unintelligible]. We're talking about Chet now, and Chet was part of that group, of course. And, but he also was--

William Leonard Chet--

Studs Terkel So many years associated with the Loop.

William Leonard Sure, he- well, Chet, he was like you Studs. I remember he was, remember one time I called you the ubiquitous Studs

Studs Terkel Mmhmm.

William Leonard Well, Chet was the same way. If there was a program or a benefit or any kind of an event, Chet Roble was gonna be there with his piano. And, he was at the, as you say, was at the Sherman so long--Frank had a number, "'Lil Augie", it was a good, a good typical of Chet, Little Augie was a gambling man.

Studs Terkel Yeah.

William Leonard And Frank and I were roaming around the Loop one night, it was a Blue Note night off, and we walked into that, what do they call that lounge? It was out off the College Inn, the lounge downstairs in the basement of the Sherman Hotel. We walked in and Chet had his back to us, and the room was full, and he was going along on the piano. And Frank said "'Lil Augie", and Chet says, "Hi Frank!" And kept on going, and then played "'Lil Augie".

Studs Terkel I suppose delight is the word for Roble, and as well as memories of the Note. And of course, to end this hour that goes so quickly, Bill talking with we, he goes, how can we leave out Duke Ellington?

William Leonard Well, Duke was one of Frank's favorite people, of all favorite people. In fact, so many times I've heard Frank say the Duke and I are like brothers, and I guess they really were. Duke, no matter where he was around the world, and he was all around the world, I don't think he knew what city he was in half the time. You couldn't blame him. He's doing one nighters across Europe, Asia, America, and South America. And he'd get an idea to call Frank, and Duke used to lie in bed and make all his phone calls and have his meals there, you know. And he'd just pick up the phone and get Frank, and it'd be 3:30a.m. in Chicago.

Studs Terkel "I love you madly."

William Leonard Yeah! [laughter] Undoubtedly, "I love you madly."

Studs Terkel "I

William Leonard He didn't have to identify himself beyond that.

Studs Terkel You know-

William Leonard And Frank would say, you know what time is? And Duke would say, well I'm in London or [laughter] I'm in Palo Alto or somewhere. But Frank used to love it. He'd say I heard from Duke last night about 4:00a.m.

Studs Terkel Well, Duke wrote, written many of them, he wrote a special song for the Blue Note, didn't he?

William Leonard Well he played there so many times. Well, Billy Strayhorn and Duke wrote it between them. Frank was very--Billy was Duke's arranger and semi-composer and Duke used to say that when there were a lot of those songs that they did, he couldn't tell what part he contributed and what Billy did. But you're speaking of "Rock Skippin' (At The Blue Note)", of course. Well, I remember one time I wrote in the Tribune that the only Chicago nightclubs that had songs dedicated to them had been, you know, "Royal Garden Blues" and "Apex Blues" and some of those old ones, and I got a very, not angry, but sulky note from Frank that said what about "Rock Skippin' (At The Blue Note)" which Billy Strayhorn wrote and dedicated to the Blue Note and that--coming from Ellington it's only fitting.

Studs Terkel Well, I think this is the perfect way to end this hour, "Rock Skippin' (At The Blue Note)", Duke Ellington's tribute to the Blue Note of Frank Holzfeind, and this hour is Bill Leonard's tribute to Frank and the Blue Note, and Bill, thank you very much.

William Leonard It's a joy for me to be here.