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It was 50 years ago..


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It was fifty years ago today that I arrived at Idlewild (now JFK) as an immigrant (legal). I had $75 in my pocket (minimum required) and I felt the kind of excitement that one feels upon reaching a long-desired goal. I came via a PanAm flight from Iceland, so this was no Ellis Island kind of arrival, but I faced the same uncertain future and expectations that my Uncle George had faced when he processed through Ellis in 1925. I did not have a job lined up, not even contacts, and no residence to go to, but my decision to take this major step was fueled by optimism and an abiding, almost obsessive interest in jazz and blues. I had lived here before, for close to 3 years during WWII (1941-44). I don't recall hearing any jazz or blues during that stay, but that experience (which, as far as my personal situation was concerned, turned out to be a nightmare) left me with a yearning to return.

I was a day away from my 27th birthday when I came back, so I wasn't a complete novice when it came to fending for myself, but it was easier to do so in Copenhagen and Reykjavík, where family and friends were within walking distance. New York City was very different, the pace was faster, the shoulders seemed colder, and--most significantly--many things were done differently. For example, I soon discovered that papers submitted in response to a NYT want ad were never returned, so--not having the funds or wherewithal to have copies made, it wasn't long before I found myself without any proof of past employment or skills.

To make a long story very much shorter, I had $10 left (only because my grandfather, sensing my situation, had sent me $100) and I took it to Greyhound (then on 50th Street), asking the ticket agent if it was enough to get me to another big city. "Three bucks will take you Philadelphia," he said. About three hours later, I was in Philly, with seven dollars in my pocket. Five of that went for a week's rent in a very clean center city rooming house that happened to be near a Horn & Hardart day-old shop. The bread still tasted fresh and it sustained me as I made the rounds looking for any job I could get. I no longer had any letters of recommendation nor samples of my art work (I had been a commercial artist), so--having spent the past year as a disc jockey for the U.S. Armed Forces station in Iceland--I focused on a radio job. Before my week's rent ran out, I had been hired as a producer and writer for WCAU, the CBS affiliate that was the city's largest broadcasting station. I soon learned what role a radio producer played and managed to assume it without my boss recognizing my lack of experience as such.

From WCAU I went to WHAT-FM, a 24-7 jazz station, as a dj, then back to New York and Riverside Records--with a lot of help from Nat Hentoff, who only knew me because he had read a favorable review of my WHAT show, written by John Szwed (whom I have yet to meet). Riverside led to Prestige, WBAI, the BBC, Columbia Records, Stereo Review, a weekly TV show, etc.--most of the time, I have little more and sometimes even less than $75 to my name, but I have a wealth of friends, good health, a pleasant apartment (for 44 years), and positive fruits of labor to leave behind when I go.

Looking back, I would have done some things differently--for instance, I should have been more practical, perhaps then I would be receiving an occasional royalty payment :)--but I have so much that money cannot buy.

This is still a great country and I love it, but it is not the country I came to fifty years ago--of course it isn't, neither have the countries I left remained unchanged. What troubles me is that too many changes have not been for the good, but my optimism is intact when it comes to that. At 76, I doubt if I will live or have my wits about me long enough to see my country and its positive image restored, but I hope that I will at least see it get back on track.

Denmark being a small country, I might have had a more financially rewarding career had I stayed there, but America has been good to me and I love my decision to return in 1957, just as I continue to value having become a citizen six years later.

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What Jim said, and an unrelated comment that reading the post made me realize that I am getting closer and closer to the time when, should someone say "that was fifty years ago," I will realize I was also alive back then too. And that depresses the hell out of me.

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I too am waiting for that autobiography.

Plus I have a special kind of affinity with Chris' superb post.

My big day was just about 62 years ago (October 14, 1945) when my brother and I returned to Paris from Switzerland to be reunited with our parents.

We had spent three wartime years away from home and were all so happy just to be alive, the four of us!

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I too am waiting for that autobiography.

Plus I have a special kind of affinity with Chris' superb post.

My big day was just about 62 years ago (October 14, 1945) when my brother and I returned to Paris from Switzerland to be reunited with our parents.

We had spent three wartime years away from home and were all so happy just to be alive, the four of us!

I'd love to hear/read your story too, Guy.

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Yes, very happy you're around...and a nice reminiscence as well!

I can say that you've personally changed my life - that's for sure!

Now...I think you can add a grand exclamation point if you'd just release

"The Jazz Set" shows on DVD dammit!!! :lol:

more good years ahead Chris! ;)

Rod

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So glad you came back and decided to stay awhile. It hadn't occurred to me that your travel in the convoy during the war didn't result in a permanent stay, but then you aren't that old, as you were just a teenager on that frightening voyage. I too wish for the sentiments expressed near the end. Cheers!

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