|Posted on Saturday, August 24, 2002 - 1:40 am: |
Important figures in the Cobbs scene were Lyman Woodard and Regina Carter. They should be included in the tribe.
|Posted on Tuesday, December 21, 2004 - 4:36 am: |
I learned yesterday of the death of Frank Isola. I met Frank when I was a bartender at Cobb's in the mid 70s. There are lots of long obits on line about his talent and recording career but none talk about what a cool guy he was. He was a real link to another era in jazz for us. He played with the Bobby McDonald Trio with Rod Hicks on the Cass Corridor for years. He had these great jam sessions at the house he was born in on St. Jean across from the Mack Stamping Plant. Coming back to Detroit in the mid 50s right when things were happening for him in New York was probably a bad move career wise. When I knew him he was always pennyless. While other jazz cats of his era liked heroin,Frank liked whiskey and speed. Even though his career fortunes were down, he had a great spirit. He was a great story teller. I was kind of a nieve kid who he was very generous towards with his time. He always wanted me to come over and visit him at his house, and I did. He had one old Italian buddy from the old neighborhood who he hung out with and always introduced as his barber. I don't remember his name but they made quite a team when they were drinking and telling stories at Cobbs. When Frank played a gig at the Detroit Jazz Center in the Womens City Club at the time I was running the bar at Clutch Cargo's upstairs, he made the mistake of leaving his drum kit. Some low lifes from the band playing at Clutch Cargo's stole his drums. People raised money to replace them as his drums,however beat up they were, were his life. Frank gave me a program from a Norman Granz Jazz at the Philharmonic concert with Duke Ellington, Gerry Mulligan ,Stan Getz, and Dave Brubeck. The full page photo of the Stan Getz Quartet includes Frank, though by then he had moved on to Mulligan's group. I dug this out after I heard of Frank's passing and treasure it all the more. Frank was the kind of guy you just wanted to be around because he was cool. Sometimes you might have to buy him a pack of smokes, a drink or put some gas in that beat up Polara. But he gave me rides home more that a few times and taught me a lot things that stuck with me. I haven't seen him in nearly 25 years, the last time was at a little bar on Mack on the east side where he had a one night a week gig for years. I won't forget him.
|Posted on Sunday, June 26, 2005 - 12:53 am: |
Frank's Italian buddy was probably Paul. I'm not sure of the spelling of his last name--Dotolo, Dottolo, Dattolo. He's a bass player.
|Posted on Wednesday, July 06, 2011 - 4:40 am: |
Well done artcile that. I'll make sure to use it wisely.
|Posted on Wednesday, July 06, 2011 - 12:48 pm: |
Hey, that's poewfrul. Thanks for the news.
|Posted on Wednesday, July 06, 2011 - 12:58 pm: |
That's going to make thigns a lot easier from here on out.
|Posted on Sunday, November 20, 2011 - 11:07 am: |
I told my grandmother how you hleepd. She said, bake them a cake!