[Dixielandjazz] Louis Armstrong Letter

[Robert Ringwald]

My daughter Molly sent this to me. If you haven’t read it already, enjoy.  

--Bob Ringwald
Fulton Street Jazz Band
www.ringwald.com


Dad,
This is from one of my favorite web-sites called "Letters of Note"
Thought you would enjoy it...
M
In 1967, jazz legend
Louis Armstrong
wrote this generous, heartfelt letter to a fan who, as a Marine stationed in Vietnam,
had recently sent him some fan-mail. You wouldn't think they were strangers, as Armstrong's
favorite laxative, "Swiss Kriss," is amusingly mentioned in the first paragraph
(and in closing); he then goes on to reminisce about his childhood and the music
he was exposed to; later on his wife, who had recently had a tumour removed, is discussed
humorously and affectionately. He even ends with
a song
. The whole letter is really endearing.
Then there's Satchmo's idiosyncratic use of punctuation, which, if you've never seen
it before, will probably charm and confuse you in equal measure. For reasons largely
unknown, he sometimes peppered his writing with an abundance of capitalisation, apostrophes,
quotations marks, dashes, and underlining — more often than not, in places you usually
wouldn't expect. As strange as it is, the style somehow suits his voice.
(Source:
Louis Armstrong, In His Own Words: Selected Writings
; Image: Louis Armstrong, via
Hollywoodland
.)
34—56—107
St.
Corona New York'
U.S.A.
Dear L/Cpl, Villec"
I'd like to 'step in here for a 'Minute or 'so' to ''tell you how much—I 'feel to
know that 'you are a 'Jazz fan, and 'Dig' 'that 'Jive—the 'same as 'we'do, "yeah."
"Man—I carry an 'Album, 'loaded with 'Records
—'Long playing 'that is. And when I am '
Shaving or 'Sitting on the 'Throne with 'Swiss Kriss' in me—That Music 'sure 'brings
out those 'Riffs' 'Right Along with 'Swiss Kriss, which I 'take 'every night or when
I go
to bed. '
Yeah. I give myself a 'Concert with those 'records. 'Music is 'life it'self. What
would this 'world be without 'good music? No matter 'what kind it is.
It 'all came from the Old 'Sanctified 'Churches. I can remember—'way
back in the 'old days in 'New Orleans, La—'My home town. And I was a little Boy
around 'ten years old. My Mother used to take me to 'Church with her, and the Reverend
('Preacher that is') used to '
lead off one' of those 'good ol good 'Hymns. And before you realized it—the 'whole
'Congregation would be "Wailing
—'Singing like 'mad and 'sound
so'beautiful. 'I 'being a little boy that would "Dig" 'Everything and 'everybody,
I'd have myself a 'Ball in 'Church, especially
when those 'Sisters 'would get 'So 'Carried away while "Rev" (the preacher) would
be 'right in the 'Middle of his 'Sermon. '
Man those 'Church 'Sisters would 'begin 'Shouting 'So—until their 'petticoats would
'fall
off. Of course 'one of the 'Deacons would 'rush over and 'grab her—'hold her in
his 'Arms and 'fan her until 'she'd '
Come 'to.
Then there were those "Baptisms—that's when someone wants to be converted by Joining
the 'Church and get 'religion. So they have to be 'Baptized
. 'Dig this—I remember 'one Sunday the 'Church had a 'great big
Guy they had to 'Baptize. So these 'Deacons all 'Standing in this 'River—in 'Water
up to their waist
in their 'white 'Robes. They had 'Baptized 'several 'women and a few 'Men—'saved
their 'Souls. When in 'Walks' a '
Great 'big' 'burly 'Sinner' who came down the line. So—'these 'Deacons whom were
'very 'strong 'themselves, they grabbed 'hold of this 'Cat
and said to him as they 'ducked him down into the water, as they let him they asked
him—"
Brother
'do you 'Believe?" The Guy didn't say 'anything—Just looked at them. So they 'Ducked
him down into that 'River again, 'only they 'held him down there a 'few minutes 'Longer.
So when the 'Deacons looked in the guy's
eye and said to him—"Do you 'Believe?" This Guy finally 'answered—he said "Yes—I
Believe you 'Son ofBitches trying to 'drown me."
P.S. I guess you think I'm 'Nuts. 'Nay 'Nay. I only 'mentioned these incidents because
it all was 'built around 'Music. In fact, it's 'All Music. "You 'Dig? The 'Same as
we did in my 'Home Town 'New Orleans'—those 'Funeral Marches etc. "Why '
Gate" 'Villec
, we 'played those 'Marches with 'feeling from our 'hearts. 'All the way to the Cemetery—'Brass
Band of course. The 'Snare drummer would put a 'handkerchief under the 'snares of
his 'drum to 'deaden the 'Sound while 'playing on the way to the Cemetery—"Flee as
a Bird." But as 'soon as the 'preacher 'say "Ashes to 'Ashes—'Dust to 'Dust"—the
"
Snare Drummer
Commence 'pulling the handkerchief from his 'drum, and make a 'long roll' to 'assemble
everybody, including the members of the 'dead man's 'Lodge—or 'Club. 'Then we'd 'return
'back to the 'headquarters 'playing "Didn't he 'Ramble" or "When the Saints Go Marching
In."
You 'See? 'Still Music."
I said 'All of that to Keep 'Music in your 'heart the 'same as 'you're 'doing. And
'Daddy—you 'Can't
'go 'wrong. 'Myself and my 'All Stars' are 'Playing here at the 'Harrods 'Club (Reno)
for 'Three weeks. My 'wife 'Lucille as 'joined me here. The 'rest will do her
lots of good. She was 'operated on for a 'Tumor, about the 'Middle of 'July. She's
improving
'very 'Rapidly. Her 'Doctor who 'operated on her at the 'Beth 'Israel Hospital'
in New York told her—'She could go to 'Reno and 'spend some time if 'you (Lucille)
+ your 'husband (Satchmo) 'promised to 'behave 'yourselves and 'don't try to 'do
the "
Vonce" ("meaning 'Sex
). I 'Said—"Doc I 'Promise—But I'll 'Just 'touch it 'lightly every 'morning—to see
if
it's 'still 'there. 'Ha 'Ha. 'Life's 'sweet. 'Just the 'thought that 'Lucille is
'through with her 'little 'Hindrance—and "soon "be well
and 'happy—'be 'her '
lil 'ol 'cute 'self 'again—'Just "knock's' meout.
'Well 'Bre'r 'Villec, I guess I'll 'put it 'down, and get some 'shut eye." It's the
'Wee 'hours in the 'Morning. I've 'Just 'finished 'Work. I amtoo 'tired to 'raise
an 'eye 'lid. Tee hee
. So I'll leave this little message with you. "
Here goes'.
When you 'Walk—through a 'Storm—
Put your 'Head—up 'high—
And 'Don't be Afraid of the 'Dark—
At the 'End of a 'Storm—
Is a 'Gol-den 'Sky—
And a Sweet Silver 'Song—
Of a 'Lark—
'Walk—'on—through the 'Wind—
'Walk—'on—through the 'Rain—
Though your 'Dreams be "Tossed and 'Blown—
'Walk—'on—'Walk—'on—
With 'Hope in your heart
And 'You'll 'Nev-er 'Walk 'A-'lone—
You'll 'Nev-er 'Walk A-lone—
(one more time)
'Walk—'on—'Walk—'on—with 'Hope in your 'heart—And 'you'll
Nev-er 'Walk 'A-lone—'You'll 'Nev-er 'Walk—'A-lone—. "Savvy?
Give my regards to the fellows that's in your company. And the other fellows too.
And now I'll do you 'Just like the 'Farmer did the 'Potato—I'll 'Plant you 'Now and
'Dig you 'later. I'll 'Close now. It's a real
'Pleasure 'Writing—'You.
"Swiss Krissly"
Satchmo
Louis Armstrong
Sent from my iPhone