{"@context":"http://iiif.io/api/presentation/3/context.json","id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/iiif/w66930pq09/manifest","type":"Manifest","label":{"en":["Louisa Lara Gross oral history, 2002 April 2"]},"logo":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/organizations/logo_images/000/000/008/original/peabody-institute.logo.large.horizontal.blue.cropped.png?1549570058","metadata":[{"label":{"en":["Description"]},"value":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eLouisa Lara Gross was born in Baltimore in 1926 to Cuban parents. While a student at Douglass High School, she won a talent search contest at the Royal Theater and began touring with Lionel Hampton shortly after her sixteenth birthday. After leaving the Hampton band, she performed as a soloist throughout the mid-Atlantic states and in Miami and Jamaica. She toured as a soloist and with vocal groups including the Cats and Fiddles, and Three B's and a Honey. After returning to Baltimore in the mid-1950s she married alto saxophonist Aaron Gross. In the interview she talks with Elizabeth Schaaf about growing up in Baltimore and attending Douglass, touring with the Three B's, and her husband Aaron.\u003c/p\u003e (Abstract)","\u003cp\u003eSide 2 of master tape contains silence from 0:16 to 0:33.\u003c/p\u003e (Physical Description)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Date"]},"value":{"en":["2002-04-02 (created)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Agent"]},"value":{"en":["Gross, Louisa Lara, 1926-2014? (Interviewee)","Schaaf, Elizabeth M. (Interviewer)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Language"]},"value":{"en":["English (Primary)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Format"]},"value":{"en":["audio/mp3"]}},{"label":{"en":["Publisher"]},"value":{"en":["Peabody Institute of the Johns Hopkins University"]}},{"label":{"en":["Rights Statement"]},"value":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eThe collection is open for use. Contact peabodyarchives@lists.jhu.edu for more information.\u003c/p\u003e"]}},{"label":{"en":["Source Metadata URI"]},"value":{"en":["https://aspace.library.jhu.edu/repositories/4/archival_objects/215357"]}}],"summary":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eLouisa Lara Gross was born in Baltimore in 1926 to Cuban parents. While a student at Douglass High School, she won a talent search contest at the Royal Theater and began touring with Lionel Hampton shortly after her sixteenth birthday. After leaving the Hampton band, she performed as a soloist throughout the mid-Atlantic states and in Miami and Jamaica. She toured as a soloist and with vocal groups including the Cats and Fiddles, and Three B's and a Honey. After returning to Baltimore in the mid-1950s she married alto saxophonist Aaron Gross. In the interview she talks with Elizabeth Schaaf about growing up in Baltimore and attending Douglass, touring with the Three B's, and her husband Aaron.\u003c/p\u003e","\u003cp\u003eSide 2 of master tape contains silence from 0:16 to 0:33.\u003c/p\u003e"]},"requiredStatement":{"label":{"en":["Attribution"]},"value":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eThe collection is open for use. Contact peabodyarchives@lists.jhu.edu for more information.\u003c/p\u003e"]}},"provider":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/aboutus","type":"Agent","label":{"en":["Peabody Institute of the Johns Hopkins University"]},"homepage":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/","type":"Text","label":{"en":["Peabody Institute of the Johns Hopkins University"]},"format":"text/html"}],"logo":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/organizations/logo_images/000/000/008/original/peabody-institute.logo.large.horizontal.blue.cropped.png?1549570058","type":"Image"}]}],"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/collection_resource_files/thumbnails/000/117/419/small/gross_photoshop_jpeg.jpg?1650136073","type":"Image","format":"image/jpeg"}],"items":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419","type":"Canvas","label":{"en":["Media File 1 of 2 - pims0091_GrossL_01.mp3"]},"duration":2999.04,"width":640,"height":360,"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/collection_resource_files/thumbnails/000/117/419/small/gross_photoshop_jpeg.jpg?1650136073","type":"Image","format":"image/jpeg"}],"items":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/content/1","type":"AnnotationPage","items":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/content/1/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"painting","body":{"id":"https://aviary-p-peabody.s3.wasabisys.com/collection_resource_files/resource_files/000/117/419/original/pims0091_GrossL_01.mp3?1624270845","type":"Audio","format":"audio/mpeg","duration":2999.04,"width":640,"height":360},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419","metadata":[]}]}],"annotations":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149","type":"AnnotationPage","label":{"en":["Gross1_OHMS_20220113 [Transcript]"]},"items":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"ELIZABETH SCHAAF: Would you tell me where you were born?\n\nLOUISA LARA GROSS: Yes. Baltimore, Maryland. \n\nSCHAAF: And where did your parents come from?\n\nGROSS: Cuba. \n\nSCHAAF: And where in Cuba? \n\nGROSS: Santiago, Camaguay, and I can remember Mancineo. Mancineo, my grandmother lived last. \n\nSCHAAF: Now what brought them to Baltimore? \n\nGROSS: Oh during the Spanish-American War, my mother's father\ndidn't want to fight in the war so he fled the country. He was Cuban. And as a\nresult, my grandmother needed someone to help her to raise her daughter, so\nbefore the war was over, just before the war was over, and they just before they\nmustered out the American soldiers and family, my grandmother married an\nAmerican soldier. And my mother was six, and my grandmother was twenty-one. And\nso when she came to this country, she was already an American citizen cause she\nhad married an American soldier. So that's what brought them to America. \n\nSCHAAF: Do you know why they chose to come to Baltimore? \n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=0.0,120.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/2","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"GROSS: Well, she didn't choose\nto come to Baltimore. When my grandmother first came here, naturally everyone\nwas coming to New York, and from New York they went down to Washington, D.C.\nwith a little piece of paper in her hand. My grandmother didn't speak any\nEnglish, and as I said, my mother was six years old. And my grandfather has\nalready paid some of his friends in Washington to give her a place to stay. My\ngrandmother didn't know any English so she would just walk and look and try to\nmatch the address. She just walked all night long with my mother until she got\ntired, tired, tired. She finally found the house. But she was so disappointed\nwhen she found the place -- on K Street I think she said it was. They took the\nmoney, but they hadn't provided anything nice for them. It took thirty days to\nmuster out the American soldiers so they sent off the wives and children first,\nyou see. So, eventually, I remember my grandmother telling me, they migrated to\nBaltimore. And that's how she got here and this is where she stayed. \n\nSCHAAF: So you grew up in Baltimore? \n\nGROSS: Yes. Yes. \n\nSCHAAF: And where did you live in Baltimore as a child? \n\nGROSS: South Baltimore near the Inner Harbor. Yeah.\n\nSCHAAF: And where did you go to school? \n\nGROSS: I went down to South Baltimore, I went to Sharp Street, 126, and I went to Harvey Johnson Junior High on Hill Street, and then I end up at Douglass [High] at Carey and Baker Street. \n\nSCHAAF: When did you begin your music studies? When did you get involved? \n\nGROSS: Okay. I had, when I was in junior high, in Harbor Johnson, I was ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=120.0,240.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/3","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"singing. In fact, when I was nine years old, I was giving little concerts at the handicapped school that used to be, I believe it was on Franklin Street. They tore it down in order to make the streets wide or something. I gave a concert there at nine years old.\nSo I was into the business long before I knew the business really. And in the\nmeantime, I just kept up with my singing in school. When I was twelve I went to\nthe seventh grade. My junior high school teacher noticed that when we would sing\nin school -- she would play the piano -- my voice would just stand out. I didn't\ntry to sing loud, but my voice carried. Evidently I was projecting and didn't\neven know anything about projecting my voice. She noticed it, and do you know\nshe gave me personal singing lessons from the time I was twelve until I was\nfifteen. \n\nSCHAAF: What was her name? \n\nGROSS: Annette Colbert, Reverend Colbert's\ndaughter. She lived on Fremont Avenue, between I think Lafayette and Lanvale\nStreet, and their father was Reverend Colbert. And he was the pastor of Etting\nStreet Church. She was dedicated to teaching children, you know. I sang in\nschool, in the same class, and we had a little trio. It was nice. So I've been\nin music you might as well say all of my life. Of course, I know other things,\nbut that's really what I like best is music. \n\nSCHAAF: Now what about at Douglass?\n\nGROSS: I was in school there, and I played the E flat\nmellophone horn. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=240.0,360.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/4","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"I only managed to stay at Douglass for six months because,\nboom, I went to the Royal Theater one night on Pennsylvania Avenue, and I saw\nthat they were having a contest. Lionel Hampton -- I didn't even know who Lionel\nHampton was! And I saw pictures of him outside, and I said, oohh, this is a\nsinging contest. I said I'm gonna get in that contest. I don't know what kind of\nkid I was, but I wasn't afraid of just about anything. \n\nSCHAAF: Not too shy.\n\n\nGROSS: Not at all. Not at all. I was so sure. Anyhow, I went backstage, and I\nsaid my name is Louisa Lara. I want to speak to Mr. Lionel Hampton. The guy that\nwas backstage was named Pop. He had one leg and a crutch, and he said, okay,\nc'mon in. I'll have to see where Hamp is. Mr. Lionel Hampton he said, and he\nlooked at me. \n\nSo the show must have just have been about going off, and Lionel\ncame down the steps from the stage, backstage. Pop called him over, and he told\nhim this young lady wants to speak to you. And Lionel said, you do? What's your\nname? I told him my name was Louisa Lara. And he said, oh, and what do you do? I\nsaid I sing. I said can I be in your contest? And he said, come here. And he\nwent over to this little broken up piano. I guess half the keys didn't work, you\nknow, it was down below stage. And he hit the key of C, and he did something, a\nfew notes, and I sang the same notes he played because I had an ear even then.\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=360.0,480.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/5","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"And he said, um, what songs do you know.\n\nNow this is the funny part. When I was\ntaking voice lessons, all I was singing was semi-classics and Negro spirituals.\nIt was spirituals years ago. And they didn't call it gospel or stuff like that,\njust spirituals. Then I was a first soprano until I was fifteen, and then I had\na case of quinsy throat. When the abscess burst in my throat, I became a\ncontralto, and I told my music teacher I don't want to ever sing again as long\nas I live. I sound like a man. Then she said, oh no, she said you've heard of\nMarian Anderson, haven't you? And I said yes. I said she can sing beautiful. She\nsaid but you can become another Marian Anderson, you know. And I said no\nkidding! She just steeped my curiosity. \n\nSo as a result, I learned two pop tunes.\nThat's what they used to call them years ago. Pop tunes. One was \"I'm the\nLonesomest Gal in Town\" by Ella Fitzgerald, and \"I Got It Bad and That Ain't Good.\"\nIf you said sing another song, I didn't know another pop tune, but he [Lionel\nHampton] didn't know that. He played the melody, the first part, with one\nfinger. You know, he could play a lot of piano with a couple of fingers. And he\nplayed da da dee da da da day. And I sang it for him. \n\nOh, I know that song I\nsaid, and it was just like it was meant to be. Because that's what he asked me\nto do. And he said, oh, okay, you're in the contest. He liked my voice, you see.\nAnd in the meantime he said, you can either wait here or you can go out in the\naudience, and when the show is over, he said you can come back here. I said, no,\nI'll stay back here ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=480.0,600.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/6","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"because it was so crowded out front. The theater was full.\n\nI went up and did my number, and I won the contest over twenty-two veteran\nsingers. All of the local women that sang, you know. Bea Booze was one of them.\nBut she won in the blues category, and she was playing her guitar, and she sang\nCC Rider. She won the blues. But she didn't go with Lionel when I went with him.\nBut she did get a record out of it. \n\nBut I never cut any records. I don't want to\nget away from Lionel, but I'll tell you about that. Lionel said, well, we'll\nhave to get permission for you to go with us. And I said, well, I'm still in\nschool. And so he said, well then what you have to do is get in touch with your\nparents, and we'll send someone down to talk with them. I say my grandmother. My\nfather had died two months before I was born, two months before I was born. My\nmother was raising the other children, and my grandmother took me when I was\nthree months old. So I told my schoolteacher who at the time was Mr. Wilson. The\nchildren in the school band even collected five dollars between them and he\nbrought it down to my grandmother's house and wished me bon voyage. Oh, I was so\nexcited! I didn't know what to do. But see, my sister, my oldest sister -- who\nis now in a nursing home, ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=600.0,720.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/7","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"but she's eighty-two now -- she was supposed to have\ngone with me as my chaperone. At the last minute she got cold feet because she\ndidn't travel anywhere. Years ago the girls were not too quick to leave home,\nyou know. But me, I don't know, maybe it was it was the gypsy in me or\nsomething. 'Cause everybody used to always call me gypsy. \n\nI didn't speak English\nuntil I was seven. Now I can hardly speak Spanish because I can't think in\nSpanish anymore. I have the vocabulary somewhere in my head. But don't say\nanything because I know what you're saying! [Laughter] \n\nBut getting back to\nLionel, we got everything straight, and I went to New York with them. When I got\nto New York, we found out by my sister not going with me as a chaperone that I\nhad to stay with Lionel and his wife. I don't know, but I don't think his wife\nwas prepared for the responsibility. But at the moment, nothing was said that I\nknow about, because naturally being a child they didn't let you hear what they\nwere talking about. \n\nBut I stayed with them in them in the Dorrance Brooks\nApartment, where they had an apartment. At that time they only had one\napartment. They ended up buying the whole building over a period of time, you\nknow. Because when I went with Lionel, he was -- this is sort of backtracking a\nlittle back -- Lionel had, not too long ago, left Benny Goodman's group when he\nhad a sextet or something -- when Teddy Wilson, Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa and\nLionel Hampton -- that was a quartet really. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=720.0,840.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/8","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"So this was more or less his first\nbig fifteen-piece band. I don't know who he had singing with him prior to me,\nbut I don't think he had anybody regular, because that's why they were having\nthe contest -- to find somebody who was going to be the vocalist for his band.\n\nSo I came before Dinah [Washington] and a lot of the girls -- all of them. But I\ncould not stay with the band, even though I worked with them in Boston,\nMassachusetts, and I worked with them at the Roseland Ballroom in New York, and\nopposite Erskine Hawkins. One band would play and the next one would get on for\nthe next hour. I worked with them also when we did a one-night stand. We came\nback to Baltimore from New York and worked at the Strand Ballroom on\nPennsylvania Avenue, next to the Royal where I won the contest from. So it was\nlike backtracking. \n\nThen we went back to New York, (in the meantime, when we\nworked in Boston, Massachusetts, that was really our first job). The Children's\nAid Society took me off stage after three nights of singing, saying that they\nserved liquor in the place, and I was too young to be in there without a\nchaperone. Gladys [Mrs. Hampton], I imagine, didn't want the responsibility, and\nas a result, she wouldn't sign chaperone papers which meant I had to leave the\nband. But I did so want to go to California with them because I had never been\nwest. I had been up and down the east coast a lot, but not west. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=840.0,960.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/9","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"So that's the\nreason I didn't stay with them. \n\nAs far as show business was concerned, I loved\nto sing, but I never really liked the business of show business. It's a tough\nbusiness, and I was out there by myself. And so as a result, when I was sent\nback home on the train, they had to pay me for the whole month of March --\nMarch, 1942. I remember. I turned sixteen that January the twelfth, and went\nwith them March, 1942. I'll never forget that as long as I live because I\nthought sure I was just gonna take off and go into the business. \n\nBut then after\nI got out there, I changed my mind about wanting to go into what they call the\nso- called big time show business. But I never really went out of the business.\nWhen I came home, people wanted me to go and sing at different places. I would\nget little jobs in clubs and things like that locally. And oh, I'll tell you what\nhappened. I went to Philadelphia to see my girlfriend. Well, at the time we were\nnot girlfriends. I didn't even know she was gonna be my girlfriend. I call her\nmy girlfriend because this is how I remember, and we're still friends since the\n1950s -- 1949. Because in the '50s I went with the Cats and Fiddles from\nPhiladelphia. I was staying with the lady that I now call my girlfriend. \n\nSCHAAF: Who were the other members of the Cats and Fiddles? \n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=960.0,1080.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/10","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"GROSS: Oh, Austin Powell and\nBeryl Booker played piano. Austin Powell was the leader of the original Cats and\nFiddles. And Ernie played guitar. He was the original of the old Cats and\nFiddles. And George played bass fiddle. We used to call him Sleepy George.\nGeorge could fall asleep and still play the bass fiddle. When I was with them,\nwe had a swinging group. But I'm telling you, for me to be playing a cocktail\ndrum! I had taken up the drums because I have a good sense of rhythm. I started\nplaying locally, before I went on the road with the group, a full set, but I only\nplayed for three weeks in the club, and tore the vein in my leg. I said I wanted\nto go with this group, you know. This would be the first chance to travel. I\nwant to travel, that's what I want to do. And so I thought about playing one\ndrum with the brush. Just as long as I kept the beat, and for a small group. \n\nAnd\nthat's what he originally had. Austin Powell originally had a guy named Johnnie\nwith the band. And personable fellow he was. So I took Johnnie's place, and went\nwith the band, I mean, with the group, rather. And I stayed with them for two\nyears. I had to leave the group because they played all up tempos, which I was\nkeeping up, but I was overworking myself. The water would run down in my shoes.\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1080.0,1200.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/11","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"We got stuck in Cleveland, Ohio, one night in this snow storm. They had some bad\nstorms years ago in Cleveland, Ohio. And we were staying at the Majestic Hotel\non 55th and Central. That used to be a fabulous hotel years ago. \n\nAnd who was\nstaying there that night when everybody was snowed in and couldn't get out?\nNobody could get out. Half of Count Basie's band! And you know what happened,\ndon't you? We played right in the hotel, and everybody wanted to come down and\njam. But no drummer. I played for Count Basie's. Let me see, his saxophone,\ntrumpet. He sent the bass fiddle man down. But evidently Count Basie was staying\nsomewhere else too, because he wasn't in our hotel. But a lot of his band,\neverybody and the other guy, went and told the other one, man, c'mon, we can\nkeep our chops up. You know, when they're talking about their embouchure. And\nc'mon let's go downstairs and play. \n\nBut nobody said anything about this poor\ngirl standing up here. [Laughter] By this time, you know, I wasn't a girl\nanymore, I was a young woman. Playing the drums, the water was running down in\nmy shoes, and I had, the comical thing was, what I had on. Years ago they used a\nlot of crepe in your evening dresses. And I had a cocktail length dress on, and\nit had a lace top with this satin under the top, and this was coffee colored\nlace. Shoes to match. When I came off the stage, my dress had shrunk up to past\nmy knees. \n\nYou're talking about embarrassment! Because they didn't wear real\nshort dresses then. And plus I was on stage so I had sort of Sunday evening\nlength, or cocktail dress. It was a beautiful dress, but I couldn't use it\nanymore. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1200.0,1320.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/12","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"The crepe had gotten soaked and wet. And I went to sit down on our\nintermission. The way the place was arranged, with a long bar on one side, and\nthey split the room in half with a decorative baseboard going all the way down\nthe middle of the place. And it had corrugated glass -- frosty glass with panels\nthat you slip in. And what happened was some gentleman came in the bar side. And\nnow this was the cocktail side on this side, but the booths were built up\nagainst that partition on that side. And there were beautiful, like a tub, you\nknow, round like that. And we, all of us wanted to sit down. We were so tired\nplaying for all these guys. \n\nAnd I mean, Austin Powell, they had on their, we\ncalled them monkey suits, the tuxedos. And I mean, they were taking off their\ncoats, soaking wringing wet. Poor Beryl Booker, she was really beat. This\ngentleman came and stood on the bar side. He was so tall, he took his elbows and\narms and put them up on top of this glass separation they had, and his elbow\naccidentally went through the glass. This was thick corrugated glass and a piece\nof the glass came in and stuck in my head. All that blood just went all over\nAustin Powell because he was sitting on this side. Beryl Booker was sitting on\nthis side. George was sitting there. It was round like, and Ernie was sitting\naway from me. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1320.0,1440.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/13","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"But Austin Powell got all the blood over him. And do you know we\nneeded to get a police escort to blow his horn. Well, we couldn't rush any more\nthan anybody else. \n\nThey had dairy trucks outside and people were looting the\ntruck, taking the eggs out and the milk and the bread and stuff. Because you\ncouldn't go anywhere. But we had to get through because I would have bled to\ndeath. Well, I got five stitches in my head, but I made it okay. \n\nI was playing\nafter everything wore off. I went back to play. But it was so interesting when I\nwas with them. But actually I worked too hard. So I decided that I had to leave\nthem. That's the only reason because it was a nice bunch to work with. Then I\nfreelanced, and I worked in Philadelphia for a while. The local clubs I worked,\nI tell you, I worked downtown. I followed Lena Horne in the Latin Casino. She\nwas making seven thousand, five hundred dollars a week. I was making\nseventy-five. But the people said they liked my singing better than they did\n[Laughter] Lena Horne. I didn't believe them, but they said they did. \n\nBut\nanyhow, to make a long story short, if that's possible, what happened was after\nworking in Philly for about a year or so, then I came back to Baltimore, which\nwas my headquarters, at my grandmother's home. She had a big house, big ten room\nhouse. I wasn't there too long before somebody in Philadelphia called me again.\nIt was a guy named Bus Montgomery, a local guy, ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1440.0,1560.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/14","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"but he had gotten an agent. He\nplayed bass fiddle. And he had gotten a woman piano player also, and she used to\nplay piano for Mahalia Jackson and Shirley Caesar and all those people years\nago. But she still could play jazz, you know. They had saxophone, drums, my\ndrums, bass fiddle, and piano. And so we managed to work Philadelphia for a\nwhile, and then we came to Annapolis, Maryland, and that's where I left them, in\nAnnapolis. I guess I thought I had fallen in love. But, you know, when you're\nyoung. I stayed in Annapolis I guess for about eighteen months. And I worked\ndown there at a nice place, they used to call it the Dixie Hotel years ago. And\nthen I left there and I came back to Baltimore, stopping off in Baltimore. They\nnever let me rest. I worked all the clubs in Baltimore. \n\nSCHAAF: What were some of the clubs that you worked? \n\nGROSS: Oh my goodness gracious. Let me see. I also\nworked the Famous Ballroom. I worked at the Band Box. I worked at several of the\nclubs when I was with the Three Bees and the Honey. So that's what I wanted to\ntell you about, but I didn't want to jump the gun on that. I can't remember all\nthe clubs I worked. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1560.0,1680.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/15","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"I worked like three weeks, two weeks, something like that,\nand somebody will say, well, Louisa, a girl is sick. We need a girl singer.\nAfter I got tired of working locally, I worked in Pennsylvania, but my home\nground was Baltimore. And I worked all of the clubs and for the different posts\n-- the American Legion, this and that. And Pennsylvania had so many\norganizations that had nice places you could work. \n\nSCHAAF: Oh fraternal organizations. \n\nGROSS: Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. And oh, I worked Hazelton, Reading,\nall the coal mine region. Some of them had real nice clubs. I remember one club\nup there that had a German guy who played the B3 Hammond organ. He had a Celeste\non the piano. And he had another thing around the side, and it sounded like a\nharpsichord almost. He was a one man band. But he could play! And I worked with\nhim. I'm trying to think of the name of the place, the name of the town that I\nworked in. I know it was very, very, hilly and they had to have what looked to\nme like galvanized water pipes coming out of the cement and going down the hill\nto hold onto. Worcester, Massachusetts! Worcester, Massachusetts. Yes! I\nremember. I worked Hanover, Pennsylvania; York, Pennsylvania; Reading. It was\nlike a circuit. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1680.0,1800.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/16","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"So that took up about three years of my life. And then I came\nback to Baltimore, and played some of the local places, like Jones's Cocktail\nLounge or something like that. Just something to fill in until I heard again.\n\nI'm home one day -- I don't play piano, but I always kept a piano -- I liked to\nsit down and play what I know. I play for my own amazement. [Laughter] I got a\ntelephone call from Philadelphia again. This time it was the Three Bees and the\nHoney. Burt Hall was the leader. They were rehearsing in Philadelphia because\nthey had been working up there. A girl named Dottie Smith was working with them\nat the time. I understand that Sylvia, Church Anderson's wife, was also a Honey\nat one time, but I followed Dottie Smith with the Three Bees and the Honey. \n\nThe\ncall came from Burt Hall and Charlie Ridgely, the piano player. Charlie\nRidgely's the man that got all the arrangements together. Without him, we would\nhave sounded like nothing. He played some nice piano. He played box chords like\n[George] Shearing, like Shearing. And they asked me on the telephone from\nPhiladelphia would I, could I come to Philadelphia if I wasn't working anywhere\nand join them for rehearsal. So I told them at the time I was working a club\nlocally. I can't remember what the name of the club was, but I didn't have a\nlong-term contract or anything with them. So therefore I could give the man my\nnotice, at least give them a week's notice, and I could join them for rehearsal.\nBut in the meantime, I told them to call me. \n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1800.0,1920.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/17","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"Charlie used to write my parts out,\nand they were singing harmony, beautiful harmony. We were doing modern harmony\nway back then. When the Three Bees and the Honey were working in Miami, we had\nthe opportunity to make a recording for Columbia Records. We went to make a\ndemo. Now this is another reason I've never had a record out. Every time I got\nwith a group, something always would happen with regard to the record dates.\nThis was supposed to have been a for sure thing. Well, nothing is for sure but\ndeath and taxes. Now I don't even know about taxes. [Laughter] \n\nWe did a medley\nto Duke Ellington because it was his twenty-fifth year in show business. Burt\nHall knew Duke, and he wanted to send this to Duke. And this is what we also had\nmade for the recording company. I have a copy of the tape home. I just have a\nlittle cassette that they gave me. It was only three minutes. But we put a many\na song on there. And they put out our demo on the shelf and told us the reason\nwhy they weren't going to publish it or actually put the record on the market.\nThey said you all really are together! He said you sound so good, but you sound\nalmost like the Modernaires. Well, we weren't trying to sound like them. That was\njust how our voices blended like. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=1920.0,2040.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/18","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"Charlie had the harmony where you use a lot of\nmajor sevenths and all the modern chords. And it was just beautiful. Not that\nour voices were that beautiful, but together our voices just blended so well.\nAnd the record company told us that we didn't sound black enough. At that time\nthey said that we wouldn't have sold on the market. They were looking for a\nmoney-making thing. And they said, maybe years from now who knows. But then who\nknows? As a result, they shelved it, and we never heard any more from them. So\nthat was our drawback because we sounded too modern. \n\nSCHAAF: And too white.\n\nGROSS: And too white. But we didn't starve. We worked all up and down. Oh we\nworked Toronto, Canada, the Brown Derby. It was a beautiful club. Worked Windsor\nOntario at the Brass Rail. Did I work Washington with them? I know I worked\nWashington, D.C., with the Cats and the Fiddles. Dikes Stockade. That was on the\nMaryland borderline. \n\nBut we worked several places. Only certain things stand out\nin your mind, though. Over the years you have a tendency to forget. But we did\ngo to Miami, and we stayed. We only worked two clubs in Miami -- a whole year\nand a half in two clubs. And every time we would get ready to leave, the man\nthat owned the club -- it was two brothers that owned the club, and it was on\nFlagler Street in Miami proper, not on the beach -- ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2040.0,2160.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/19","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"and they would always renew\nthe contract. They just liked our singing. \n\nAnd then I broke up with Three Bees\nand the Honey. We didn't have a job after the contracts ran out, and they called\nthe agent in New York, and he didn't have anything right away. So what Burt\nHall, the leader had suggested for Three Bees and the Honey was that we would\ncome to Baltimore and go into rehearsal. You know, get a whole new repertoire,\nor add it on to our old one. I said, but that's not getting me any work.\nEverybody will be home, but I have to work. I couldn't even stay in Baltimore\nand not have a job, because I had to give my grandmother something for staying\nhome. It didn't make sense. I'm a grown woman now, you know. He says, well, what\nare you saying? I said, I am so close to Cuba. I'm ninety miles from Cuba. I\nhaven't been to Cuba since I was a little baby almost. I said, and when I came\nback, I was school age. Okay? I was four and a half when I came back. Anyhow, I\nsaid I want to go to Cuba, and I can go there for eighty dollars round trip.\nIt's only ninety miles. I said I tell you what. If you get a job next week, I'm\ngonna give you my cousin's address where I'll be in Havana. I'll be there for\nfifteen days. I had already planned my trip, even though I didn't know I was\nreally going. I was going to stay two weeks with each cousin in the different\nprovinces, like Oriente Province, you know, and that's where Santiago and\nManzanillo are. I would go from north Havana all the way down to Manzanillo,\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2160.0,2280.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/20","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"Santiago, Camaguey, Bayamo, and then all the way down to Nicuero. So I would\nhave covered the whole length of Cuba with my cousins. \n\nBurt was getting angrier\nby the minute. I didn't know why because he had no work for me. I only had a\nverbal contract with him, nothing in writing. So my time was my own. I said, you\ncan send me a cablegram because my cousin doesn't have a telephone. And I said I\nwill be there. If you get a job next week, I don't care where it's at, I'll be\nthere. See, I saved my money. I knew what I was doing. He said, well, I have a\nbetter proposition for you. I said what is that? He said, unless you accept our\nmeans of transportation back to Baltimore -- we traveled in his brand new\nstation wagon he bought just before we went down to Florida -- you can consider\nyourself no longer a part of the group. I said, oh, but you can't force me to do\nthat. Because at that time I was twenty-eight years old, I wasn't a kid any\nlonger. I said, I'm sorry, but you don't have a job for me. I don't have a\nwritten contract with you. This is strictly verbal. I said I would be available\nif you got a job next week. So I'm not holding you up or keeping you from\ngetting a job. \n\nIn the meantime, I said, until that time, I'm going to Cuba. And\nthere was nothing he could do. And that I did. And they came back to Baltimore.\nDo you know before he left, ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2280.0,2400.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/21","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"he came to my hotel room and handed me a letter that\nhe had written. He went to the Musicians Union and had them to type it out for\nhim and left them a copy. It said that I could consider myself no longer a part\nof the group because I did not accept their means of transportation back to\nBaltimore. He left a copy with the union. Naturally being on the road you had to\nbe a union musician. And that's what happened to Three Bees and the Honey as far\nas I was concerned. \n\nAnd then, I hate to say it, but at that time they had gotten\nolder too, you know. They were older than I was. But I came back to Baltimore\nafter I returned from Cuba. Let me see, that was in November when I went to\nCuba. I came back to Miami because I left a couple of suitcases at the hotel for\nsecurity purposes and let the lady know that I wasn't finished in Miami yet,\nbecause I loved Miami. \n\nMy grandmother was getting sick, but she hadn't had her\nlast stroke yet. So I still felt free to go. I came back to Miami from Cuba in\nJanuary, on my birthday, but in the meantime, I had gotten a call at the hotel\nwhere I was staying. A lady named Sis, her and her brother ran it. It was like\nsemi-private hotel, and pretty little thing. Looked like a Spanish villa, two\nstories. It was very nice. And she gave me the message, and it was from the\nNicholas Brothers who were looking for a vocalist, and my contract and\neverything was there at my hotel. In fact, they were trying to get a little\npackage together to take to Jamaica ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2400.0,2520.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/22","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"with them. I had the guy that was playing\nfor me, his nickname was Pickles. His name was George Stubbs. He was the local\npianist but keys didn't bother him. He played all right for me. Well, the\nNicholas Brothers needed somebody to accompany them and to play their\narrangements. He could read. So all they had to do was give him his copy of the\narrangements. They wanted to us to go to Jamaica with. So when I got off the\nplane at the Miami Airport coming from Cuba on my birthday, January the twelfth,\nand came to my hotel, took my shower, changed my clothes, and got my suitcase\nthat was already packed with all my gowns and shoes. That was two suitcases in\nitself, so I have three suitcases because the other suitcase wasn't too heavily\npacked because you could wear summer stuff down there. I turned right around and\nwent back to the airport. I went to Jamaica the same day. Got off of one plane\nand got on another. When I got to Jamaica, I worked with them. I think we were\nthere for a week. We worked the Carib Theater. We stayed at a place called the\nMimosa Lodge on Half Way Tree Road. That's the way they call it. Half Way Tree\nRoad. \n\nThe man that we were working for really was Mr. Dudley, and he had a club\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2520.0,2640.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/23","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"not too far from where we were staying at the Mimosa Lodge, called the Colony\nClub. We played there at night, the Nicholas Brothers and George and myself. The\nhouse band backed the Nicholas Brothers up and myself. We played there at night, and in the daytime we covered three different theaters, the Carib, the Ward Theater where they used to have the legitimate plays and all the English stuff.\nWell, we were following Billy Eckstine there. \n\nAnd let's see, he was working at\na club at night called the Tropical Café or the Tropical Bar or something.\nAnyhow, he only had a trio with him, backing him up at the time, not a big band.\nThey would work the Ambassador Theater in Jamaica, which was a big, beautiful, beautiful place. It was a deep blue. I'm not a lover of blue, but that was beautiful. And the sky was the roof. Open air but with a high wall around it with a white top around the wall. Palm trees grew outside the wall, and they\ncame in over the wall. They had floodlights at the bottom of each palm tree and that's what lighted the theater up where the people were sitting. Only the sky.\n\nYou sang on this humongous stage. When I was singing, somebody hollered \"Body and Soul.\" Well, at that time that was their theme song in Jamaica. \"Body and Soul,\" you know, in the '50s. I said to George Stubbs, you know \"Body and Soul\"? He said yeah. Wait a minute, let me get a key for you ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2640.0,2760.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/24","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"and he got it real fast, you know.\nSaid okay, I can do \"Body and Soul.\" I came out and told them, \"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I heard half of the audience out here hollering 'Body and Soul,' 'Body and Soul.' So I'll give you my version of 'Body and Soul.'\" I hope you like it.\nAnd I sang \"Body and Soul.\" I didn't realize I was so homesick that I didn't know what to do. That's the first time I had ever felt like that in all my years of\ntraveling -- never thought about being homesick! And I wasn't a kid anymore. And I sang \"Body and Soul,\" and looked up at the sky and saw all these stars and I was singing and thinking to myself, all of these men out here and nobody belonged to me. [Laughter] You know what I'm saying? I'm going home. This is what I said to my mind, but I'm still singing \"Body and Soul.\" But it was helping my singing, evidently, because the house came down. You know, and even in some little write-ups that I have in the Jamaica papers were saying how the people enjoyed what they called their national anthem at the time, \"Body and Soul.\" \n\nI was pleased that they liked it, but then we came back after a week down there. We followed the Queen of England down there. We landed in Montego Bay, and then we went to Kingston, Jamaica, where we would play at these three theaters. We covered them in a week, and we'd play at the Colony Club at night. We played there, five nights we did. But it was interesting. Came back home to Baltimore, ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2760.0,2880.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419/transcript/35149/annotation/25","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"and just sang and sang in different clubs. I had started doing more supper clubs, or singing if somebody said that they were having a social affair. Well by then they want to hear all this stuff I've been talking about. Where have you been Louisa? When they heard Louisa was home, oh well I got a job for her if she wants to sing. And I'd sing in the various hotels and what not.\n\nThat was in 1954 when I came back. You know, the funny thing is, after the Three Bees and the Honey left me in Miami, when I came back to Miami, I did work up until March in the same club where I had worked in with the Three Bees and the Honey. I worked as a lull act in between the house band, just George Stubbs and myself. And see, I could get a job anytime. Because when you go somewhere and you have a good reputation, people don't mind hiring you back, especially if the people like you. \n\nBut I never wanted for a job. Never. I'd sit home and the phone would ring.\nLouisa, are you working? Not right now. Got a job for you. Yeah. I could get a\njob tomorrow if I wanted. I just won't commit to anything anymore. Because I\nwant to live to be a hundred. \n\n[END PART ONE]","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117419#t=2880.0,3000.0"}]}]},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420","type":"Canvas","label":{"en":["Media File 2 of 2 - pims0091_GrossL_02.mp3"]},"duration":2569.03837,"width":640,"height":360,"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/collection_resource_files/thumbnails/000/117/420/small/gross_photoshop_jpeg.jpg?1650136083","type":"Image","format":"image/jpeg"}],"items":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/content/1","type":"AnnotationPage","items":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/content/2/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"painting","body":{"id":"https://aviary-p-peabody.s3.wasabisys.com/collection_resource_files/resource_files/000/117/420/original/pims0091_GrossL_02.mp3?1624270847","type":"Audio","format":"audio/mpeg","duration":2569.03837,"width":640,"height":360},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420","metadata":[]}]}],"annotations":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150","type":"AnnotationPage","label":{"en":["Gross2_OHMS_20220113 [Transcript]"]},"items":[{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"SCHAAF: Well, when you came back from Jamaica, and you suddenly realized that\nyou didn't have a gentleman of your own, was this around the time that you met\nthis saxophone player?\n\nGROSS: In 1954. Well, what had happened with him [Aaron Gross] was this: We had\nworked together in 1946. We must have had about eight pieces. And I only knew\nhim as a musician.\n\nSCHAAF: And the name of the saxophone player?\n\nGROSS: Aaron Gross. Pardon me, I used to call him Gross. And he played alto,\nbeautiful alto. And in fact, he played the Royal Theater for five years. He was\nwith Tracy McCleary. And they used to call it His Royal Kentuckyans then. And\nthen he changed the name to the Royal Men of Rhythm or something because they\nwere in the Royal Theater. But originally it was Tracy and his Kentuckians,\nbecause Tracy was from Kentucky.\n\nAnd my husband was the soloist. When you say get up and play a solo, my husband\n-- not because he was husband now, but as a musician -- I respected him as a\nmusician, he could play five choruses and everyone of them would be different.\nHe could improvise like crazy.\n\nAnd that's why they almost worked him to death when he was with the band because\nhe'd get out and blow his heart out. He ended up playing, actually he was an\nalto man. But when he played with Tracy, Tracy would put him on the -- ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=0.0,120.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/2","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"what was\nhe, third tenor man. And he played alto if the second alto man didn't come in.\nHe'd play alto.\n\nHe never appreciated it but, I always told him that's where his soul was, with\nalto. You know, I don't care how, if he could play alto, I mean tenor, he'd\nplay. Originally he started on clarinet. And he was forty years old before he\ntaught himself to play flute. Because he always wanted to play flute.\n\nWhen my husband learned to read music -- you wouldn't believe this: He was\nsomething like seven years older than me. I didn't realize this until after you\nmarry somebody, and say you're sitting down reminiscing, talking about your\nchildhood -- he was from the same part of Baltimore I was from -- South\nBaltimore -- except he lived on the other side of the Hamburg Street Bridge. And\nhe came to the neighborhood to take lessons. His first instrument, as I said,\nwas the clarinet. He grew to hate the clarinet, and I didn't know it. When we\ngot married, one of the first birthday presents I bought him was a clarinet. I\nnever found out 'til years later that he didn't appreciate it. He said he would\nalways screech on it, and he never liked it because he didn't like to hear the screeching.\n\nHe was probably applying too much pressure, after playing saxophone -- you know,\nthe difference in the reeds. But anyhow, he had to learn music. He paid fifty\ncents a week he said. I mean, a lesson rather, not a week. Fifty cents a lesson.\nAnd his saxophone teacher, or clarinet teacher, ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=120.0,240.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/3","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"was Puerto Rican. To show you\nhow small this world is, my grandmother lived around the corner from his\nclarinet teacher. I remember as a little girl, I used to like to skate, but I\ncouldn't go out in the street. I was too little. I'd skate on the sidewalk. When\nI'd get down to the corner, I could look up and see I couldn't go anywhere but\njust down the street, as long as my grandmother could see me, and back up the\nstreet. I would see this little boy, he was very thin, and he had this little\nsatchel or something. It was his clarinet. And he had knickers. Years ago they\nwore knickers, and when he would tell me about this, I could picture it and I\nremember. I didn't know who he was.\n\nAnd he would go down and come off the bridge and go to Hamburg Street and go to\nLeadenhall Street and go to his music lesson. And that was a lot of money years\nago. You know, fifty cents. My Lord! He say he had to sell a lot of bananas on\nthe horse and wagon with the Italian fellows in order to get fifty cents for his\nmusic. He used to be on the Arab wagon with the Italian family that lived in\nback of him. And he'd always get on their wagon and sell bananas, Arab.\n\nYou know, because Baltimore was famous for that years ago. But I say this is\nsuch a small world. You never know where you're gonna end up at, you know.\n\nThe funny thing was, I remember when we worked and '46 was the last time I\nremember ever working with him. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=240.0,360.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/4","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"Oh we worked, let me see, at the Rio Cabana Room\non Franklin Street, at the -- What is the name of that hotel that they're\ntearing down now? It's the old, beautiful, Congress Hotel. It was so pretty inside.\n\nLarry London's band played downstairs, and we played upstairs in the cocktail\nroom upstairs. Larry London at the time had a music school in Baltimore. It was\neight pieces of us. Let me see who we had: Purnell Rice on drums, we had Ray\nChambers on piano. He played beautiful piano.\n\nHe had little short fingers and he could play. We had Billie Foster was the\nleader. He played trumpet and bass fiddle. He wrote all the arrangements. And\nI'm trying to think who was playing. Oh, the bass fiddle, the fellow's name I\ncan't remember now, but he used to come in from Fort Meade, and eventually he\nsettled in Baltimore. He died not too many years ago, but I can't remember his\nname. And you know who also played with us, played trumpet? A guy by the name of\nDavid Fields. He used to be with the union, years ago when the union was on\nPennsylvania Avenue and when they moved down on Argyle also. He was a union\nrepresentative, Fields. Played beautiful trumpet. Nice looking fellow, very well educated.\n\nAnd he would play when Billie Foster wanted to play his bass. And there were\nother times Billie'd get a gig maybe they didn't pay as much or something so he\nwould cut one man and he would play the ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=360.0,480.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/5","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"trumpet in certain arrangements. But\nthat's the group that I played with, I sang with them. I didn't have to play the\ndrums. Because I wasn't playing drums then. This was way, way before, in 1946.\n\nI didn't play drums when I was with Lionel either because I was just a featured\nvocalist. That was in '42. I think I started playing drums in about '49 when I\nwent with the Cats and the Fiddles. I had played a little while in a couple of\nclubs in Philadelphia, and I played in a couple of clubs down in Baltimore,\nafter I messed up my leg.\n\nThat's why I left the drums alone for a little while. If Dottie Smith could\nplay, I can play too, I figured. I didn't need anybody. I just had the rhythm in\nme. I watched the guys when they played and I had the motion in my wrist. I\ncould play brushes. But that is a confidence, you know.\n\nI don't know how good I sound, but I never had to worry about a job. So it\nwasn't too bad.\n\nBut getting back to my husband, he started playing professionally when he was\nnineteen. He was playing with a band called Siemon Eldridge Band. And at the\ntime, I was only twelve years old, but I was two inches taller than him now. You\nknow, as you get older you lose height.\n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=480.0,600.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/6","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"Five girls -- we called each other the cherry blossom girls. On Friday evenings\nwe'd go to the dance. We used to dress alike and wear white pants and red and\nwhite candy stripped jerseys in the summertime, and we'd pay a quarter to go to\nthe dance.\n\nThe dance would start at something like nine o'clock, and I had my grandmother\nsaying I will be standing in this doorway at twelve o'clock, and you better be\ncoming around the corner at twelve o'clock. And she meant that! And my\ngirlfriend would be responsible for me. Not that she wasthat much older. I guess\nshe's got me about nine months or eight months older than me.\n\nBut anyhow, because she was so much bigger. But she would look out for me good,\nyou know. I wasn't really a bad kid. All I'd want to do is dance. Oh I loved to\ndance. It was when the jitterbug came, and my husband, ironically enough, was\nplaying with this big band at the Gauchos Hall where we'd go every Friday. I\ndidn't know the man. All I know is we loved to hear him play because he was from\nour part of town. And when we saw the posters wrapped around the pole, they\nwould tie them on the pole with a string, announcing that they were going to be\nat the Gauchos Hall. And I'd say mama I need a quarter. Well, you get your own\nquarter, so I'd go to the store for people, and I make a quarter. I'd have my\nquarter every Friday and wear a different little broomstick skirt every Friday.\nOh, we had a good time!\n\nAnd went up there, and he'd [Mr. Gross] be playing. And everybody knew him\nbecause he played this horn so well, but hardly anybody knew his name. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=600.0,720.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/7","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"And he\nhad a nickname that the musicians used, but I don't use the nickname. I don't\ncare for nicknames.\n\nThis was when I was twelve years old, it was in 1938. My mother died when I was\nthirteen, and that was 1939. My mother was only forty-three, and she had sixteen\nchildren. Forty-three years old.\n\nAnyhow, getting back to my husband, he was playing with the big band, and I\ndidn't know him.\n\nAnd I was dancing -- twelve years old, and he was nineteen. He was married, but\nhe wasn't married at nineteen. He said he didn't get married until he was\ntwenty-seven, and he stayed married for ten years or so. But then when we got\nmarried -- his wife died the same year we got married.\n\nWe used to talk all the time about old times, and this is when he realized that\nI was the same girl that he used to say to Jack Jackson -- we used to call him\nSqueeze box, but Jack Jackson was playing piano with the band when I was twelve\n-- and he used to tell Jack Jackson, man, whoever gets that girl is gonna have a\nwild gypsy on their hands. Look how she dances.\n\nWell, see my hair was real long, all the way down. And I was just silly with the\nmusic, you know. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=720.0,840.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/8","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"But I guess that was my sense of rhythm coming out. I didn't\nhave any other way to express myself. But that was really funny how I found out\nabout that. I didn't know. To show you that you're looking and looking and never\nsay nothing.\n\nSCHAAF: When did you find out that he was interested in you?\n\nGROSS: When I came back to Baltimore from Miami in '54 as I said. I was working\ndowntown, and I was on intermission, and I heard this horn playing. Now I hadn't\nheard him play since '46 when we worked together. He was a perfect gentleman.\nNever a word out the way. Well, he was very much in love with his first wife.\nAnd they had five children.\n\nBut anyhow, I could never forget that horn. It was in my ears. And I have an\near, and I never forget. I can learn the part and hum it, and it just stays with\nme night and day, and it becomes a part of me. Anyhow, I took intermission, and\nI went to get a Pollack Johnnie's hot dog. You remember Pollack Johnnie's hot\ndog? They were very good. I said, oh, I know who that is playing, but I didn't\nknow his name. I couldn't remember his name. I'm awful for names, but faces I\nnever forget.\n\nAnd come to find out, I'm standing across the street, and they had the door\nopen. It was in the summertime in August of '54, and he was framed in the\ndoorway. But he didn't look like he looked like back years ago. I remember he\nhad a tooth ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=840.0,960.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/9","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"that had fallen from vibration years ago. This was before my time,\nwhen he was a young man. I always used to say to myself, believe it or not, the\nman favors my brother. But they say you're always looking for someone who favors\nsomebody in your family. You're not aware of it. I never believed it until it\nhappened to me.\n\nI used to say to myself when he was playing in the band, gee, he's a nice\nfellow, he's a gentleman. I said why doesn't he have that tooth fixed. It had\nfallen from vibration, and it waslaying right here on his lip like that. And I\ndon't see how he could play. Of course, he must have had his embouchure here,\nand the tooth is on the side. It wasn't a bad tooth, but the vibration from\nplaying the horn -- it had fallen down.\n\nWhen I saw him in '54, he had all these gold caps, and gold. And I thought that\nhe was a bronze god standing in the doorway. [Laughing] I said who is this? I\nsaid now that's his horn that I can hear. I had to get closer because I don't\nsee too good at distances, and I was across the street.\n\nThey were just going off on the intermission. He was playing with three other\npieces, piano, drums, and bass fiddle and himself. And it was the man that I\nended up marrying.\n\nI never could have dreamed that he would ever be a personal friend of mine. No,\nhe was so square, and I was so hip. ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=960.0,1080.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/10","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"[Laughter] Isn't that funny now how life is?\nYes. But he was such a nice person. I could never envision myself with this man\nbecause he was such a square, and he was so nice. He remained nice for all those years.\n\nWell, we weren't married but thirty-nine years, but we were together for\nforty-two years. He died in 1996.\n\nSCHAAF: He had a lot of musicians in his family.\n\nGROSS: His brother played trumpet. I have a picture of his brother's big band.\nHis brother played trumpet, but I didn't know about any other body in his family.\n\nSCHAAF: Does he have younger relatives around that are playing?\n\nGROSS: Not that I know of. It might be, but I don't know anything about it. It's\na possibility. He tried to get his son to learn saxophone, and he had no\ninterest. He put the horn around his neck when he was little. I ended up trying\nto raise four of his children. I say trying to because I got them under such\npoor circumstances when their mother died and I took them. Four kids really\nneeded a lot of attention and everything. They're two years apart, each one of them.\n\nI gave them the attention. Oh I gave them the proper foods and everything. The\noldest boy, I heard him say when he was seventeen -- and I got him when he was\nthirteen -- he said the only good thing I learned about living was from Miss Louisa.\n\nSCHAAF: Oh that's nice.\n\nGROSS: I couldn't stand the name Miss Louisa though. I said it didn't\ndistinguish me between the person living next door, Miss Booker and Miss Louisa,\nor Miss so and so and Miss Louisa. I said I didn't expect them to call me mother\nor mama, ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=1080.0,1200.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/11","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"but put a little handle on it, you know. They're telling me something.\nYou know, Mama Lou or something.\n\nSCHAAF: What about your family? Were there other musicians in your family?\n\nGROSS: No. Singers, but never professional. My mother sang beautifully, but she\nnever sang anywheres but when she was washing clothes and in the house. Oh, and\nmy brother could sing. And now I have a nephew. I just learned he could sing at\nhis mother's funeral three weeks ago. He sang The Very Thought of You for his\nmother 'cause she liked Nat King Cole's version. And do you know the night\nbefore she died in the intensive care unit, 'cause she was eighty-four, she sang\nthat with them, with her children. All six of her children were there, and they\nsang The Very Thought of You.\n\nAnd he got up in the services, we're Catholic, he got up at the services and\nasked permission from Father to sing his mother's favorite tune. And Father said\nyes. And he sang a portion. He didn't sing the whole thing. I think he was\ngetting too full, you know, and he sang a portion of it. But he's got a\nbeautiful tenor voice. He's six foot, seven. And a handsome guy. And he sang at\nhis mother's funeral.\n\nNow I tell you, my grandmother said her father was a musician. He played the\nmandolin. He lived to be a hundred and two, and believe it or not, when my\ngrandmother took me to Cuba when I was two and a half years old, I was the only\none he let come into the room. He had become senile, and they used to have to\nkeep him in a locked bedroom. And if you didn't, see, he'd tear his clothes off,\nand then he liked to run in the street like a child with no clothes on.\n\nBecause the little boys didn't wear clothes up 'til nine years old. It didn't\nmake any difference ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=1200.0,1320.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/12","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"there. And that's the reason why they had to lock the bedroom\ndoor because he became senile at a hundred and two.\n\nBut he was a musician. My grandmother used to say that when he was a young man,\nhe told his children that he was a singing troubadour, and he'd sing under the\nladies balconies. And if they like him, they would throw a rose or throw money\nover the balcony. And if they didn't like him, they'd take the potty and throw\nit over the railing. [Laughter]\n\nSCHAAF: That gets the point across quickly.\n\nGROSS: Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. But really it was an interesting life, and I\nstill have a lot of life left in me because I've been playing here at about four\nor five different senior citizen places.\n\nNow I played over to the Liberty Senior Center. I played over there about three\ntimes. And I played, oh, about half a dozen times here at Parkview at\nRandalstown. I played down to Morell Park Senior Citizen Building. At\nChristmastime I get a lot of work. I have Monty Poulson play bass for me and I\nhad a fellow named Claude Grant. He used to play B3 Hammond organ. He did a lot\nof playing down on Ritchie Highway for about twelve years. I started him off\nwhen he was about nineteen years old. He got his first job with me years ago\nhere in Baltimore.\n\nAnd then I worked up to where I live now, Pikeswood Park Apartments, ","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=1320.0,1440.0"},{"id":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420/transcript/35150/annotation/13","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"senior\napartments. I worked up there already three times, and I've only been there, it\nwon't be a year until May.\n\nAnd they had asked me to bring the group up to Reisterstown Senior Center, on\nReisterstown Road. A lot of people ask me to sing. I'm still singing.\n\nSo I manage pretty good and I enjoy my life. That's the important thing. I mean\nlonesome, but you know if you're used to being married -- we were together\nforty-two years. He passed in '96. That ended my world. I know I have to go on.\nWell, I make friends easily. Everybody wants me to sing, you know. I love to\nsing, but to commit myself to say, even to three nights when I don't know how\nI'm going to feel.\n\nBut that's about it in reference to myself.\n\nSCHAAF: That's pretty good.\n\nGROSS: It's a lifetime.\n\nEND OF INTERVIEW","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://streaming.peabody.jhu.edu/collections/1178/collection_resources/44134/file/117420#t=1440.0,1560.0"}]}]}]}