Sunday, July 20, 2003

By Nate Guidry, Post-Gazette Staff Writer

Jerry Betters sits on a couch in his Garfield Heights apartment sifting through old photographs.

	For more than five decades, drummer and vocalist Jerry Betters, 71, has been entertaining local audiences with songs of love and loss. Betters recently told visitors to his Garfield Heights home, "I've had a great life, and I wouldn't change anything." (Steve Mellon, Post-Gazette)

A montage of pictures he has taken over the years of some of jazz's more popular performers stretch across a large foam board.

Inside the covers of an aging scrapbook is a portrait of Jennifer Redman, his beautiful daughter.

On another page rests a letter written by Billy Eckstine, the encouraging words scribbled on plain notebook paper.

Mr. B., as Eckstine was often called, taught Betters a great deal about songs and vocal delivery. He even demonstrated to Betters a breathing technique that Eckstine claimed had been taught to him, and him alone, by Frank Sinatra.

"Coming up, [Eckstine] was my idol, and later we became good friends," says Betters, who shared a stage with his mentor many times before Eckstine's death in March 1993.

"B. used to tell me all the time that my voice was like a muscle that needed to be stretched ... so he used to have me blow bubbles in water through a straw. Man! After I finished practicing that technique, I could almost sing a song in one breath. That was something I would never have learned without B."

	Previous Articles This occasional series profiles longtime performers and aficionados to mine their memories and knowledge of a lifetime in music. Symphony orchestras and jazz ensembles coveted the services of bass player Joe Wallace (May 11, 2003) Negri has proved handy on the guitar (March 2, 2003) Condeluci recalls glory days as a percussionist (Dec. 8, 2002) Trumpeting a jazz icon: Danny Conn (Sept. 22, 2002) The real Slim's heyday (Aug. 11, 2002) Collector goes on the record about his jazz-infused 90 years (July 21, 2002)

For more than 50 years, the balladeer, now 71, has entertained audiences with songs of love and loneliness

By his own account, he has sometimes lived the high life: alcohol, parties, drugs and women. He's even spent time with "Kitty," a 3-year-old pet lion who shared an apartment with Betters, his daughter, four cats and three Great Danes.

There also were tough times, like the days on the road when he pawned clothing to get money for food and gas so the group could make its next get gig.

He has no regrets.

"I've had a great life, and I wouldn't change anything," he says, reflecting on a career filled with highs and lows. "I've played my music on my own terms. I may not have made it to the big dance, but I feel fortunate because I rubbed shoulders with some of the legends in this music and have made some wonderful friends along the way."

Now he sings the praises of Dr. Elias Hilal, a surgeon who removed a cancerous tumor from one of Betters' tonsils. Betters was diagnosed with cancer in February 2002. Dr. Hilal says the cancer is in remission and Betters' long-term prognosis looks good.

A few weeks ago, friends and family gathered at Dowe's on 9th Street for a roast in his honor.

Anthony "Herb" Amen, one of the event organizers, says it's been tough watching his friend deal with cancer.

"I worry about him," says Amen, who met Betters through their relationship with Eckstine. "But I always kid him and tell him he's going to be my pallbearer.

"Mr. B brought us together, but over the years, we have developed a great relationship. He sincerely loves the art of singing and the art of music.

Music beyond Connellsville

Betters grew up in a musical family in Connellsville. His parents, who owned the Betters' Grill and Hotel, encouraged Betters and his two sisters and four older brothers to pursue their interest in music.

Little Jerry chose the drums, and, by the time he reached junior high school, he was already performing in the Betters family band.

Sometimes he sat in with big bands touring through the area. One night, Illinois Jacquet's band was performing in Uniontown but Jacquet and his drummer, Jo Jones, were late.

Trumpeter Joe Newman had to fill in on drums, and as Betters sat there listening to Newman he wasn't too impressed.

After a couple of tunes, he asked if he could play, and Newman was happy to return to the trumpet section. Betters played a few songs and took a couple of Gene Krupa bravado-laden solos to the excitement of family and friends.

When the cheering quieted, Jacquet walked on stage, followed by Jones, who said, "Hey son"' to Betters before taking his proper place at the drums. Jones then took off his shoes, opened a case and pulled out another pair and slipped them on.

	Jerry Betters left Connellsville at age 17 to develop his musical art, and later returned to the area to become a stalwart on Pittsburgh's musical scene. (Steve Mellon, Post-Gazette)

Betters thought, "This old dude is in trouble because I was really swinging the band with my little dumb [stuff]." Jones touched the cymbal once, and it was the sweetest sound Betters had ever heard. He then placed the floor toms on the left and right side and when he started to play, he'd cross hands, looking back at Betters as if to say, "Are you checking this out, son?"

"I didn't know who he was, " Betters recalls. "Up to that point, my idols were Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich because I used to see them in movies. But after that night, I became intimately aware of Papa Jo Jones."

As Betters developed musically, he realized there was only so much Connellsville could offer. He had witnessed the development and then frustrations of his older brothers -- Harold, Jim, Edgar and George -- who were good musicians but weren't able to get scholarships.

Betters would have no part of that. He dropped out of school his senior year and set off for New York. He was 17.

He arrived in Harlem with only a 22-inch cymbal, a bass drum with a few articles of clothing tucked neatly inside and his determination.

He took his lumps before hiring a teacher, and before long he was working with Ernestine Anderson and Dinah Washington at the Apollo Theater.

A four-night gig with Lionel Hampton's band was the most grueling experience of his young career. But the job paid $90 and it gave Betters something to write home about.

In 1950, he married Phyllis Pollard, a childhood sweetheart from Lemont Furnace. He was 19. The couple separated after six years but never divorced. Betters still considers her his best friend.

Later, Betters toured through the South with a comedy and musical group led by boxer Joe Louis. While in the South, he experienced the sting of being called a "nigger" and witnessed segregation first hand.

In Birmingham, Hubert Reed, a white piano player in the band, was set up far across the stage from the black players. The band was separated from the audience by chicken wire.

Itching to leave the South, Betters returned to New York and joined a group led by Phil Williams.

During a show in New Jersey, the owner of the club told them they needed to find a singer. Williams selected Betters, who was initially reluctant. He even turned away from the audience as he sang.

After a series of one-nighters in Wilkes-Barre, Betters left to join tenor saxophonist Gene Ammons for a weeklong performance in Detroit. When the group arrived in the Motor City, everyone except Betters was arrested for heroin.

"Man! The police were waiting for us," says Betters. "They knew I had joined the band in Wilkes-Barre so they let me go. At that time, I was young and didn't even really know what heroin was."

Back home again

Betters returned to Connellsville, eventually teaming with his brother, Harold, a trombonist, and quickly established himself in the area. Over the years, Betters performed on several of Harold's recordings, including "All My Tomorrows."

"I think Jerry is one of the best male vocalists in Pittsburgh," says Harold, who admits he was sometime at odds musically with his younger brother because of Jerry's love of ballads. "Jerry is honest about his music, and if the audience didn't like it, that was tough."

When the late Lenny Litman, who owned two top Pittsburgh nightspots, heard Betters, he gave him a shot in the Midway Lounge, a place where Dave Brubeck, Roy Eldridge, Sonny Rollins, Miles Davis and others performed.

Local drummer Roger Ryan remembers meeting the Betters brothers at the Midway Lounge.

"I always admired Jerry and Harold for their tenacity and ability to survive," says Ryan. "They never worked daytime jobs. When I first met Jerry, he was playing drums in a hip modern style with bigger cymbals than most people. Then he started singing and people tried to compare him to Eckstine, but I always felt he just did what he did and was very good at it."

After a year or so at the Midway, Betters took his act and audience to the Crawford Grill, the legendary night spot in the Hill District.

"Jerry probably did as much to integrate Pittsburgh as anyone," says William "Buzz" Robinson, former owner of the Crawford Grill. "When Jerry started performing at the Grill, things were still segregated. He initiated white audiences coming here, many of which were not familiar with the Hill District. He helped to eliminate the perceived fears people had of this area."

Robinson says music lovers, whatever their other differences, were drawn to the music of Betters. "Jerry had one of the best bands in the city. He was a band manager and drummer. Then one day he said, 'Forget the drums,' and he started singing to the women. He was aggressive, defiant, and he lived life on his own terms."

In 1970, Betters opened the Crescendo, a club he operated in Oakland until the lease expired in 1984. It, too, was a hangout for famous musicians, including Stanley Turrentine, George Benson and, of course, Eckstine.

"One night, B. and I sang 'Misty' in the key of C, and it was unbelievable," Betters recalls. "I think B. was probably the greatest vocalist who ever lived. Frank [Sinatra] could phrase as well as anyone, but B. could sing the blues, ballads and swing his [butt] off."

Throughout the 1980s and '90s, Betters continued to perform around the area. In November 2001, Betters and several other celebrities were inducted into the Gene Kelly/Billy Strayhorn "Gallery of Stars" in front of the Kelly-Strayhorn Theater in East Liberty.

Back at his apartment, Betters turns on the TV and inserts a video of an old performance. He thinks about that night and wonders whether he'll ever recapture that magic.

"You know what I wish?" he asks rhetorically. "I wish I and all my friends and fans live to be a hundred years old and the last voice they hear is mine. I'll be singing Sinatra's 'I Did It ... My Way.' "