Straight Life - Art Pepper [156]
Ernie said, "Let me show you the lower yard." The lower yard has a football field, a baseball diamond, and handball and basketball courts. We started down the stairs and as we went down I saw a guy coming up, and he looked really strange; he looked like a ghost. He had his hands on his stomach, and I saw that there was blood running out all over his hands. As we got close to him he let go of his stomach to grab the rail because he was starting to fall, and he was just covered with blood. I said to Ernie, "Oh, man!" And I started to go to the guy's aid, but Ernie grabbed me and said, "Come on, come on, come on! Hurry!" He was frantic. We got down the stairs, and as we reached the bottom I looked back, and here was the guard on the walkway above the stairs with his rifle pointed at the guy. Ernie said, "Now, if we had stayed there to try to help him we would have been right in the middle of this shit. There's no telling what might have happened. I know it's cold. We haven't been brought up that way. But you have to mind your own business and keep walkin'." I said, "What happened?" He said, "Oh, those things happen here all the time. Somebody shanked the guy. They get a piece of metal from the machine shop and sharpen it into a dagger, and they put tape over the handle part."
The only photograph of my mother, my father, and me together.
My father who, more than any other person, molded my personality and way of thinking. Photo courtesy of Thelma Pepper.
Me at about age one. "There was another time when they were separated for nine months and junior lived with Grandpa Joe and Grandma in Watts. Grandma took care of him then, and that's when he made the most progress physically." Photo courtesy of Thelma Pepper.
(Left) Thelma, later my stepmother, in 1932; one of the nicest, most sincere and honest persons I've ever known. Photo courtesy of Thelma Pepper. (Right) Me (on the left) with Thelma's children-Bud, John, and the little one, Edna. Photo courtesy of Thelma Pepper.
My mother and I in downtown Los Angeles. I was about 13.
My grandmother and my father. Photo courtesy of Thelma Pepper.
Me in the uniform of the Cleveland Boys Band, San Pedro, California, under the direction of James E. Son. This was my first exposure to a musical group.
Benny Carter and his band at Billy Berg's Swing Club, Hollywood, about 1944. From left to right: Sonny White (piano), Benny, Jimmy Cannady (behind Benny), Harold Clark, Tommy Moultrie (bass), Bob Graettinger, Joe Epps, Willard Brown, Candy Ross. Second row: Percy Brice, Charles Johnson, Bumps Meyers, Al Gray, Calvin Strickland, John Morris. Photo courtesy of Benny Carter.
Me as a soldier boy in 1944.
Playing football at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. I'm on the left, carrying the ball.
A rehearsal with the Army Ground Forces Band at Camp Butner, North Carolina.
Me, Patti, my mother, and my "cousin" John in Tijuana, just after World War II.
My first wife and first love, Patti.
Right after the war, before rejoining Kenton, I toured with The Lou Olds Group for a short time and had this picture taken in Arkansas. The inscription says, "Love! to my beer drinking buddy-your goofy son. Pepper" My mother and I drank and smoked pot together.
Stan Kenton, a powerful man, who was the only person I knew to approach the stature of my father. I'm on the left with my sax. New York's Commodore Hotel around 1948.
On the road in Iowa with Kenton's band. The bus broke down and it was freezing cold. We made a good thing of it, though, and had an impromptu march down the highway. Ray Wexell is the leader and behind him, left to right, are Bob Fitzpatrick, Bart Varsalona, and Harry Betts. Photo courtesy of Buddy Childers.
Bob Cooper and June Christy in their Kenton days.
The Stan Kenton band on Catalina island, 1951. Left to right, first row: Stan, Jay Johnston, Bob Cooper, me (suffering with a terrible sunburn),