January 15, 1922-July 24, 2008
I met Rich at one of the Bix Festivals in Davenport, several years ago. We became close friends during the Bix cruises in 2003 and 2005. Rich and I presented lectures, and we had to coordinate our efforts. He was the perfect gentleman, always ready to accommodate his schedule and to do the necessay work to bring the educational aspect of the cruises to fruition. Rich's knowledge of Bix and his family and of Bix's activities in Davenport was phenomenal, and his lectures, based on his detailed research, brought in information not previously available in books and magazine articles. Rich's lectures, packed with new material and documentation, were received with great appreciation by the audiences.
Rich was not only thorough about his investigations into the field of Bixology, but also highly enthusiastic - in his own modest manner. I eagerly looked forward to Rich's telephone calls, always prefaced by the question, "Can you talk?" I knew then that he had discovered some new piece of information about Bix, and was eager to share it. Rich was always generous with his findings. He did not keep them to himself or for the book he was preparing with Jim Arpy and Gerri Bowers - "Bix: The Davenport Album." With a few exceptions, he gave me permission to announce his findings in the Bixography Website and Forum.
Rich was music director for the Bix Festival for several years. His attention to the choice of bands, negotiations, and all-around help to the musicians was legendary. In every festival there was a "crisis" and Rich was there, solving all problems and giving selflessly of his time. There was no task that he did not carry out in order to make the Festival a success. No matter how serious a problem he encountered, Rich would calmly and effectively deal with it, paying attention to individual sensitivities. Everyone Rich helped was grateful to him because he made them feel that someone cared, and indeed he did. Although Rich was a reserved man, his inner warmth and kindness was apparent to all he touched.
Thursday evenings of the week of the Festival would find Rich in the Col Ballroom, talking to everyone, old friends, newcomers, always with a good word, a humorous comment, a helpful suggestion. He thrived in the environment of Bix fans, Bix music, and anything that had to do with Bix and the festival.
But there was lot more to Rich than Bix. A devoted husband, father, and grandfather; a second world war hero (recipient of the Purple Heart and Bronze Star) who was buried with full military honors; a jazz musician himself, playing great rhythm guitar. Although Rich could solo effectively, he preferred to play a supporting role, typical of his modesty and helpful attitude. Writer (co-author of six books and one in press), photographer, newsletter editor, mentor to youngsters.
To honor Rich's devotion to and highly effective Bix-related activities, Rich was granted the Goldkette Award in 2005 and the first "Bix Lives" Award in 2007.
I consider myself fortunate and honored to have known Rich Johnson. I will be eternally grateful to him for his friendship and for his generosity. Rest in peace, friend Rich.
Albert Haim
August 2008
Visitation.
Rich died on July 24, 2008. Visitation was on July 28, 2008
Remarks by Gary Bright, Rich's son-in-law, at Visitation
Funeral.
Rich died on July 24, 2008. The funeral was on July 29, 2008.
Letters to the QC Times
By Christopher L. Bright, formerly of Moline, Fort Myers, Fla. | Thursday, July 24, 2008 10:34 AM CDT
Alann Krivor< style="font-family: helvetica,arial,sans-serif;">
Coeur d’Alene, Idaho<>
<>Rich Johnson prepares for his next gig
By Christopher L. Bright, formerly of Moline, Fort Myers, Fla. | Thursday, July 24, 2008 10:34 AM CDT
Around this time of the year, I am
reminded of my childhood and young adulthood growing up in the
Quad-Cities. The Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival is, for me (and
many, many others), a lasting summer memory.
This year, the
music will be a little softer, the lights a little dimmer. Rich
Johnson, lifelong Bix fan and historian, former music director of the
festival and local musician, will soon be leaving us. He currently is
at Trinity Hospice, fighting a losing battle with lung
cancer.
I
am sad as I write this, but at the same time, I have to smile a little
because I know right now, somewhere not too far away from here, people
soon will be filing into a music hall, ordering a few drinks and
chatting about the day’s events. On the stage, almost ready to
start,
a young man with a curly wisp of hair hanging over his brow is warming
up on his cornet. A small group of other musicians, with names like
Whiteman, Basie and Krupa, are tuning up. And there is a chair,
with a
blond Kay guitar and a pocket amp, sitting just to stage-left of the
drummer, waiting for its owner. Pretty soon, this band will be
complete, and the music can start.
Rich Johnson will be missed
One of the most valuable members of your community died this week. Rich Johnson was a gift to all with his many contributions to the success of the Bix Festival each year.
As chairman of the Jean Goldkette Foundation, I was honored to personally award Rich our baton award for musical excellence in the Jean Goldkette tradition.< style="font-family: helvetica,arial,sans-serif;"> His devotion to the young musicians of the Quad-Cities will be sorely missed by all who benefited from his many contributions to music.< style="font-family: helvetica,arial,sans-serif;">Alann Krivor< style="font-family: helvetica,arial,sans-serif;">
Coeur d’Alene, Idaho<>
Articles in the QC Times
Play it again, Rich. Somewhere in the heavens of jazzy sharps and flats, Rich Johnson will be checking on Bix Beiderbecke.
Johnson — nicknamed Dr. Jazz — died Thursday afternoon at the age of 86. He was the premiere world authority on Bix, whom he never knew, and had a passion for learning all there was to know about Davenport’s young man with a horn.
To Johnson, Bix was like a son.
Johnson had been fighting the odds of cancer for 18 months, and held out hopes that he would live to attend one last Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival this weekend, said his widow, Gail.
Services will be Monday. He will be buried wearing a Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society T-shirt. Three Bix recordings will be played at the funeral, all specifically requested by Johnson. At the reception, three jazz bands will play, among them the New Wolverines.
When Johnson was fading earlier this week, Josh Duffee, band leader and close friend, hastily gathered Spats Langham and his Rhythm Boys to play at his hospice bedside.
“I truly believe that he could hear the music,” Gail Johnson said. “A good friend sat at bedside, holding his hand, and together they moved his arm and hand back and forth to the jazz.”
One of the songs played was a version of a noted Bix recording, “I’ll Be a Friend with Pleasure.”
Duffee said Johnson was aware that death was near but was talkative until recent days. “I know that he would have liked to have gone on the same day that Bix died, Aug. 6. I joked with him that it might not be possible because Bix had a few gigs left to play. He smiled at that.”
Friends and family remotely thought Johnson might possibly be in the Bix Bash audience this weekend. As recently as June 8, he played guitar with Ron Madow’s Society Jazz Band at the Radisson Quad-City Plaza in Davenport. He played dates with Al Hathaway’s band, and Hathaway called him “a great guitarist, one of the best in these parts — and what a fine, gentle guy.”
He never missed a night at old Hunter’s in Rock Island, anchoring the rhythm section of the Riverboaters.
A year ago on this day, Johnson was presented the first-ever Bix Memorial Award, a 14-inch bronze statue of Bix. His family worried that his health would not allow him to accept, but Johnson showed up, perky. He had prepared a speech and returned to the jazz concert audience disappointed.
“They just leaned over from the stage and handed it to me. I wanted to get up there and say something,” he said afterward. He stayed for the concert, tapping his feet. “I’ll Be a Friend with Pleasure” was dedicated to him.
Johnson, an Augustana College graduate, was a musical scholar and author on most anything concerning Bix’s brief life. A soft-spoken, articulate man, he would offer as much time to a high school kid as to a jazz scholar. It could be on obscure subjects ranging from what dates Bix played at the Blue Bird Inn in Milan to details on where he stayed when he performed a piano solo at Carnegie Hall in New York City.
“If there was anything to be known about Bix, Rich knew it,” said Jim Arpy, a friend who accompanied Johnson on many of his explorations to places where Bix had performed around the country.
< style="font-family: helvetica,arial,sans-serif;">By Susan Anderson | Saturday, November 10, 2007 11:02 PM CST
Rich
Johnson of
Moline is renowned in the Quad-Cities for playing a smooth jazz guitar
and his ability to recount Bix Beiderbecke history.
Lesser-known is the fact that Johnson is part of what Tom Brokaw called “the Greatest Generation,” the ordinary Americans who sacrificed everything to serve their country and save the world from tyranny in World War II.
On an average day, 1,100 of America’s WWII veterans die, taking their stories with them. Being an historian, Johnson, 85, understands the value of recounting his story for posterity.
And he is battling lung cancer — despite never having smoked.
“I told my doctor that I don’t want to die. But I have seen death and it’s no stranger to me,” he said, reflecting back more than 60 years. By war’s end, he had witnessed death, of both friend and foe, more times than he could count.
“It was a sad time,” he said simply.
Drafted in August 1942 into Company A, 136th Battalion, 33rd Army Infantry Division, Johnson was an unlikely fit for the military.
“I was never a gun person. I never owned a gun and still don’t,” he explained. He was more comfortable with the guitar and clarinet, both of which he learned to play while growing up in Moline.
After basic training at Fort Lewis, Wash., his company was transferred to the Mojave Desert in California to complete its training. “We thought we would be sent to North Africa,” he said. Instead, they would spend the next 31/2 years hopscotching their way across the South Pacific.
“The rumor was that they would never send you overseas without a furlough. I believed that until I walked up the gangplank to board the ship in San Francisco,” he said.
Headed for a base in Hawaii, their first stop was the island of Molokai. “We strung barbed wire between the palm trees on the beaches. We expected another Japanese attack at any time.” The only other presence on the island was a leper colony with whom they had no contact. Next came Finchaven, New Guinea, a place notorious for heavy rains, overgrown jungles, giant snakes and malaria-carrying mosquitos. In that hostile environment, his unit engaged the enemy for the first time.
“Then we invaded Morotai, where the Japanese held an airstrip we needed.” There, while digging through weeks of backed-up mail, Johnson found a letter from home.
“My brother was serving in Europe. He had been wounded two times, so I knew things were pretty bad over there. Someone from home had written to say how sorry they were to hear about my brother’s death.” Killed in Italy while holding a position against German forces so the rest of his unit could clear out, Johnson’s brother, Roland, received the Silver Star medal posthumously for his gallantry in action.
“After that, we went to the Philippines and helped liberate Manila. We captured Gen. Yamashita (the Japanese commander of the Philippine Islands) in Baguio,” Johnson said. During that campaign, he and his fellow infantrymen earned the Bronze Star for capturing an enemy plane.
Later, while fighting from a slit trench on the island of Luzon, shrapnel from a grenade cut into Johnson’s leg, earning him another medal, this time the Purple Heart.
“I will never forget the day,” he said with a smile. “In the hospital, I heard Tokyo Rose say on the radio, ‘You might as well give up, boys, because your president is dead.’ ” It was April 12, 1945, the day President Franklin Roosevelt died.
When Johnson healed and returned to duty with his company, preparations were under way for an assault on Japan from the sea. “Fortunately, for us, they dropped the atomic bombs and (Japanese Emperor) Hirohito surrendered, ending the war.”
Proceeding to land on the Japanese mainland, the troops waded ashore cautiously, not knowing what to expect. “To our surprise, we saw Japanese soldiers standing on the beach, about 50 yards apart, saluting. We ran by them and headed into town. We saw people peeking out of windows, probably scared to death. By the next day we were playing baseball with the Japanese kids.”
In December 1945, Johnson had earned enough service “points” to go home. “I had enough of war and military life. I was ready to go home,” he said.
In the years since his return, Johnson has stayed in contact with the men of Company A and edits their newsletter. In 2000, he wrote in the Mississippi Rag, a publication that covers traditional jazz and ragtime music, about “The Life and Death of a Blonde Kay Guitar,” an instrument he carried with him through part of the war.
Always the musician, in both war and peacetime, you still can catch him playing jazz at the Radisson Quad-City Plaza hotel in downtown Davenport during Sunday brunch. That’s a natural connection for a man who got involved with the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival as a ticket-taker in 1977 and later became its photographer and music director.
Somewhere
between Josh Duffee’s high society orchestra sweetly playing “I’ll Be A
Friend With Pleasure” and the brassy New Orleans All Stars
blasting like
dynamite — the first-ever “Bix Lives” award was put in the
surprised
hands of Rich Johnson on Saturday night.
It was a memorable moment at Davenport’s Clarion Hotel, of cheers and a standing ovation for this grand guy of jazz who knows so much about Bix that some think he is a member of the family.
The award was a commissioned 14-inch bronze of Bix, a good likeness of our golden boy, standing with legs crossed, bow-tied and a stubby cornet in hand.
“Already, we’re calling the statue ‘Oscar’ because we’ll be presenting one each year in the future,” says Ray Voss, Bettendorf, who holds the thankless job of being president of the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society.
Rich, of Moline, was surprised, to say the least. A modest man, he smiled and muttered quiet words of thanks. Rich is not well; he has been in a long struggle with lung cancer but was determined to be at this year’s 36th Bix Bash. “I think this may be my last one,” he told me a few weeks ago. Still, he is surprisingly hardy and plays occasional Sunday morning brunch gigs on guitar at the Radisson Quad-City Plaza.
A tribute to Rich was written by Jim Arpy and read Saturday night by Jim Peterson, a Bix relative. Arpy called Rich “Our roving ambassador, our ‘Doctor Jazz’ … To all who have given their time and talents to making the Bix Festival grow bigger over the years, Rich Johnson is a treasured icon, always on the trail of undiscovered chapters in the life of Bix, his musical idol.”
Members of Rich’s family were at the presentation. They were aware of the award but kept it a guarded hush-hush. Only a few outsiders knew.
“It was one of the town’s best kept secrets,” says Josh, with his typical slick-back ’20s hair. “We played ‘I’ll Be A Friend Forever’ because it was one of Rich’s favorite Bix recordings.”
The idea for a statue and award was fostered by Al VanTieghem, a benevolent part-time resident of the Quad-Cities who sponsored Randy Sandke’s band at the Bix. There has been talk of some annual “Oscar” honoring the mission of Bix Beiderbecke and jazz bash, and Al told Ray Voss, “This is something the Bix Society should be doing.” He brought the idea to his family, and the Ruth and Albert VanTieghem Family Fund agreed to pay $3,300 for the bronze and its mounting.
Three months ago, sculptor Ted McElhiney began work on it, using paintings by Quad-City artist Ward Olson as models. Now that there is a mold, future annual Bix Lives awards will cost about $600.
All along, the bronze was meant to be of a casual, carefree Bix, smiling and with big ears. It’s said that his big ears made it possible for him to hear notes that no one else could hear.
Celebrating the
spirit of
Bix: Moline's Rich Johnson stays immersed in jazz
|
Thursday, July 24, 2003 8:14 AM
CDT
Mary Louise Speer
Rich Johnson of Moline exemplifies the spirit of the Bix Jazz Festival.
This weekend, jazz, racing and festivity reign supreme in Davenport during the 32nd Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival, Bix 7 Race and street fair.
Johnson, the festival's music director, will be all over town as he helps make sure music lovers celebrate Bix Beiderbecke's 100th birthday this weekend with plenty of spirited, soul-fillin' jazz performed by 11 bands of note. Musical notes, that is.
"I've always been involved in music," says the 81-year-old Johnson, a life-long resident of Moline. "I went to college and got interested in jazz but Bix was special because of the way he played his horn. I wrote an article once on the mystique of Bix's music. There's something about it that captures people."
His mother worked for the writer Octavia Thanet, better known around the community as Alice French. Johnson eagerly took to playing the guitar and clarinet as a child. His brother Roland played piano and had a studio in the Whittaker building in downtown Davenport.
The musical instruments were stored away when both brothers answered the call to fight in World War II. Sadly, Roland, an infantry soldier, died of wounds received during a battle in Bologne, Italy.
"Roland ordered everyone back while he stayed in the gun position, holding off the Germans while the rest of his unit cleared out," Johnson said.
Roland's musical talents -like Bix's- ended too soon. Johnson returned home after serving 30 months over seas and attended Augustana College on the G.I. Bill. There he rekindled his interest in jazz and Bix, married and raised a family and worked as a senior planner for American Air Filter, Moline.
"Bix was special because of the way he played his horn. The improvisation was so unique," Johnson said. "Sometimes it's hard for people to understand how great Bix really was unless you're a musician. He had perfect pitch and he could visualize in his head, notes of an arrangement where the musicians were playing three or four parts."
He added, "Bix was not reading any music. He was playing notes that enhanced the harmony. That's why those musicians came here in the 1970s."
The first Bix gathering took place in 1971 to observe the 40th anniversary of Beiderbecke's death. Bill Donahoe, a business executive from New Jersey, brought the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Band of New Jersey to Davenport for a pilgrimage. The group looked forward to performing a few tunes at Bix's grave at Oakdale Cemetery and to visiting Bix' home and viewing places where the young musician had performed.
"The press picked up on this," Johnson said. The musicians came to Oakdale and were surprised to see a large group of people out there. What big shot brought those folks out?
Seconds later they found out the visitors were there to pay tribute to Bix.
The irony is, remarked Johnson, only eight people attended Bix's visitation.
Don O'Dette and Esten Spurrier, a boyhood friend of Bix, sat down afterwards and worked out plans for a yearly festival. The first took place in 1972.
Johnson got involved in 1977 as a ticket-taker. Eventually he became the festival's photographer and the music director in charge of the stage.
"The Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society is dedicated to the perpetuation of Bix's music and they work 12 months a year. We are traditional jazz and we stay with the traditional genre.," Johnson said.
The Society is celebrating Bix's 100th birthday with 11 bands. Included in the lineup are: the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Band that helped start the festival back in 1971, New Wolverine Jazz Orchestra of Sidney, Australia, and the Bix Beiderbecke Youth Jazz Band of top young musicians from the Quad-Cities area.
Johnson is enjoying a few days of rest before gearing up for the furor starting later today with the Bix Porch Party at Davenport Public Library and opening night at the Col Ballroom. This year's festival includes two new, free concerts at Vander Veer Park, Davenport; and Middle Park, Bettendorf, in addition to the regular venues at LeClaire Park, Davenport Holiday Inn, and at the Col Ballroom and Danceland Ballrooms where Bix once performed.
These are places Johnson is very familiar with, observed Annie Peart, the Society's treasurer.
"People come from all over the world at all times of the year to see the Bix haunts," she said. "Rich is the one who does that because he knows these spots so well. "
In his spare time, Johnson enjoys playing with the Riverboaters Jazz Band and sleuthing for more information about the famed musician.
"Stuff pops up where you don't expect it that might lead to something else," he said. An Internet search for the name Bix Beiderbecke brings up around 32,000 results.
The Society's work continues even after the last note has faded away. As music director, Johnson and members of his committee, will begin working on next year's festival soon after the bands are back in their home cities.
"One of the things that's terrific about Rich is that he's a musician and has a terrific background in news writing and photography," Peart said. "Being a musician, he keeps on top of all these great bands around the country. He has attended other events around the country and that helps us bring in top bands."
Johnson sums up his ongoing relationship with jazz and the Society with a simple: "I'm lucky. I've met people from all around the world, taken them to Bix sites and getting to be friends with them."
And he looks forward to continuing that involvement in the years to come.
Article in the August Issue of The Mississippi Rag
Bix Expert Rich Johnson Was
A Friend of Many With Pleasure
Lew Shaw
Rich Johnson was true to Bix to the end.
Rich had long been considered one of the eminent authorities on the life and times of the legendary trumpeter, who, like Rich, came from the Quad Cities area that straddles the Mississippi River in the states of Illinois and Iowa.
Retired college professor Albert Haim who initiated the Bix Forum has stated, "For those who may not know about Rich's standing in the field of Bixology, I will say that he is simply the world's expert on anything and everything that pertains to Bix and his family, and his life in Davenport, Iowa."
From the Netherlands, Hans Eekoff seconded Haim's assessment when he wrote, "As far as I am concerned, you are the last sincere guardian of the Bix legend in the United States, mainly in the Davenport area." Jim Peterson whose family has a long and rich history in Davenport is on record saying, "In one sentence, Rich is one of the most dedicated and earnest Bixophiles in the whole wide world."
When Rich Johnson was diagnosed with cancer 18 months ago, his doctor wasn't optimistic he would be around to attend the annual Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival in July of 2007. Rich not only attended his 36th Bix Festival but was the recipient of the first-ever Bix Memorial Award for his service to the Bix Society and jazz community.
An edited version of the tribute described him as "college music major, decorated soldier, celebrated guitarist, photographer, writer, faithful friend to many throughout the world and tireless worker for the Society.
"For the past 36 years, Rich Johnson has been a treasured icon, always on the trail of undiscovered chapters in the life of Bix, his musical idol. His efforts to bring Bix's hometown history to light have caused others around the world to catch 'Bix Fever' and join in the search.
"He greatly aided in attracting top bands to participate in our Festival, but also set up jazz training sessions for school-age musicians as well as seminars with experts discussing Bix's contribution to jazz. Always looking to the future, Rich proclaimed that unless we train young musicians in traditional jazz, the music will one day be lost.
"A quiet, modest man, but with a mind packed not only with music history, but also an inexhaustible supply of jokes and sly quips, Rich did not seek honors or even thanks over his long years with the Bix Society, but he earned the respect of all who knew him."
Rich Johnson remained fairly active this past year and continued to play with several local bands until early June. He held out hope he could attend one last Bix Bash the weekend of July 25-27, but his condition deteriorated, and he spent his final days in a hospice facility.
On the Wednesday leading up to the Festival, Josh Duffee, a close friend and leader of the new Jean Goldkette Orchestra, prevailed on Spats Langham and the Rhythm Boys from Great Britain to play one last session for Rich. A group of relatives and friends gathered in the family room of the hospice, and Rich's bed was wheeled in to hear such Bix classics as "I'll Be a Friend with Pleasure" for the last time.
"I truly believe he could hear the music," his wife, Gail, said. "A good friend sat at the bedside holding his hand, and together they moved his arm back and forth to the jazz."
The next afternoon Rich Johnson peacefully passed away at age 86. Three Bix recordings that he requested were played at his funeral, and three bands performed at the reception that followed. He was buried with full military honors in his native Moline, Ill., wearing a Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society t-shirt.
On a personal note, I bid farewell to my dear friend by quoting a few lines from a poem read at my daughter's memorial service:
"We can be sad that he is gone, or we can smile because he has lived. We can remember him and only that he is gone, or we can cherish his memory and let it live on."
Images.
Rich's Father's Day Present, 2008
Rich and Gerri, July 2008
Rich's Forthcoming Book
Account of Rich's "Bix Lives Award" in Bix Notes Vol 16, No. 4, Fall 2007
Rich (holding the First "Bix Lives Award"), Gail and Jeffrey Johnson, Davenport, July 2007.
Rich's Bix Lives Award Certificate
From Sweden, courtesy of Paul Bocciolone Strandberg. Rich in front of his car with license plate
Bix 'N' Me
From Denmark, courtesy of Flemming Thornbye. Rich holding the Goldkette Award.
Rich receiving the Goldkette Award, Davenport, July 2005
Benefit and Concert, Davenport, Nov 18, 2007.
Rich 'N' Bix, Bix Cruise, 2003.
Bix Legacy Cruise, Nov 2005
Bix history buff, Q-C musician dies
Play it again, Rich. Somewhere in the heavens of jazzy sharps and flats, Rich Johnson will be checking on Bix Beiderbecke.
Johnson — nicknamed Dr. Jazz — died Thursday afternoon at the age of 86. He was the premiere world authority on Bix, whom he never knew, and had a passion for learning all there was to know about Davenport’s young man with a horn.
To Johnson, Bix was like a son.
Johnson had been fighting the odds of cancer for 18 months, and held out hopes that he would live to attend one last Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival this weekend, said his widow, Gail.
Services will be Monday. He will be buried wearing a Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society T-shirt. Three Bix recordings will be played at the funeral, all specifically requested by Johnson. At the reception, three jazz bands will play, among them the New Wolverines.
When Johnson was fading earlier this week, Josh Duffee, band leader and close friend, hastily gathered Spats Langham and his Rhythm Boys to play at his hospice bedside.
“I truly believe that he could hear the music,” Gail Johnson said. “A good friend sat at bedside, holding his hand, and together they moved his arm and hand back and forth to the jazz.”
One of the songs played was a version of a noted Bix recording, “I’ll Be a Friend with Pleasure.”
Duffee said Johnson was aware that death was near but was talkative until recent days. “I know that he would have liked to have gone on the same day that Bix died, Aug. 6. I joked with him that it might not be possible because Bix had a few gigs left to play. He smiled at that.”
Friends and family remotely thought Johnson might possibly be in the Bix Bash audience this weekend. As recently as June 8, he played guitar with Ron Madow’s Society Jazz Band at the Radisson Quad-City Plaza in Davenport. He played dates with Al Hathaway’s band, and Hathaway called him “a great guitarist, one of the best in these parts — and what a fine, gentle guy.”
He never missed a night at old Hunter’s in Rock Island, anchoring the rhythm section of the Riverboaters.
A year ago on this day, Johnson was presented the first-ever Bix Memorial Award, a 14-inch bronze statue of Bix. His family worried that his health would not allow him to accept, but Johnson showed up, perky. He had prepared a speech and returned to the jazz concert audience disappointed.
“They just leaned over from the stage and handed it to me. I wanted to get up there and say something,” he said afterward. He stayed for the concert, tapping his feet. “I’ll Be a Friend with Pleasure” was dedicated to him.
Johnson, an Augustana College graduate, was a musical scholar and author on most anything concerning Bix’s brief life. A soft-spoken, articulate man, he would offer as much time to a high school kid as to a jazz scholar. It could be on obscure subjects ranging from what dates Bix played at the Blue Bird Inn in Milan to details on where he stayed when he performed a piano solo at Carnegie Hall in New York City.
“If there was anything to be known about Bix, Rich knew it,” said Jim Arpy, a friend who accompanied Johnson on many of his explorations to places where Bix had performed around the country.
Bix expert, vet remembers WWII in the South Pacific
< style="font-family: helvetica,arial,sans-serif;">By Susan Anderson | Saturday, November 10, 2007 11:02 PM CST
Lesser-known is the fact that Johnson is part of what Tom Brokaw called “the Greatest Generation,” the ordinary Americans who sacrificed everything to serve their country and save the world from tyranny in World War II.
On an average day, 1,100 of America’s WWII veterans die, taking their stories with them. Being an historian, Johnson, 85, understands the value of recounting his story for posterity.
And he is battling lung cancer — despite never having smoked.
“I told my doctor that I don’t want to die. But I have seen death and it’s no stranger to me,” he said, reflecting back more than 60 years. By war’s end, he had witnessed death, of both friend and foe, more times than he could count.
“It was a sad time,” he said simply.
Drafted in August 1942 into Company A, 136th Battalion, 33rd Army Infantry Division, Johnson was an unlikely fit for the military.
“I was never a gun person. I never owned a gun and still don’t,” he explained. He was more comfortable with the guitar and clarinet, both of which he learned to play while growing up in Moline.
After basic training at Fort Lewis, Wash., his company was transferred to the Mojave Desert in California to complete its training. “We thought we would be sent to North Africa,” he said. Instead, they would spend the next 31/2 years hopscotching their way across the South Pacific.
“The rumor was that they would never send you overseas without a furlough. I believed that until I walked up the gangplank to board the ship in San Francisco,” he said.
Headed for a base in Hawaii, their first stop was the island of Molokai. “We strung barbed wire between the palm trees on the beaches. We expected another Japanese attack at any time.” The only other presence on the island was a leper colony with whom they had no contact. Next came Finchaven, New Guinea, a place notorious for heavy rains, overgrown jungles, giant snakes and malaria-carrying mosquitos. In that hostile environment, his unit engaged the enemy for the first time.
“Then we invaded Morotai, where the Japanese held an airstrip we needed.” There, while digging through weeks of backed-up mail, Johnson found a letter from home.
“My brother was serving in Europe. He had been wounded two times, so I knew things were pretty bad over there. Someone from home had written to say how sorry they were to hear about my brother’s death.” Killed in Italy while holding a position against German forces so the rest of his unit could clear out, Johnson’s brother, Roland, received the Silver Star medal posthumously for his gallantry in action.
“After that, we went to the Philippines and helped liberate Manila. We captured Gen. Yamashita (the Japanese commander of the Philippine Islands) in Baguio,” Johnson said. During that campaign, he and his fellow infantrymen earned the Bronze Star for capturing an enemy plane.
Later, while fighting from a slit trench on the island of Luzon, shrapnel from a grenade cut into Johnson’s leg, earning him another medal, this time the Purple Heart.
“I will never forget the day,” he said with a smile. “In the hospital, I heard Tokyo Rose say on the radio, ‘You might as well give up, boys, because your president is dead.’ ” It was April 12, 1945, the day President Franklin Roosevelt died.
When Johnson healed and returned to duty with his company, preparations were under way for an assault on Japan from the sea. “Fortunately, for us, they dropped the atomic bombs and (Japanese Emperor) Hirohito surrendered, ending the war.”
Proceeding to land on the Japanese mainland, the troops waded ashore cautiously, not knowing what to expect. “To our surprise, we saw Japanese soldiers standing on the beach, about 50 yards apart, saluting. We ran by them and headed into town. We saw people peeking out of windows, probably scared to death. By the next day we were playing baseball with the Japanese kids.”
In December 1945, Johnson had earned enough service “points” to go home. “I had enough of war and military life. I was ready to go home,” he said.
In the years since his return, Johnson has stayed in contact with the men of Company A and edits their newsletter. In 2000, he wrote in the Mississippi Rag, a publication that covers traditional jazz and ragtime music, about “The Life and Death of a Blonde Kay Guitar,” an instrument he carried with him through part of the war.
Always the musician, in both war and peacetime, you still can catch him playing jazz at the Radisson Quad-City Plaza hotel in downtown Davenport during Sunday brunch. That’s a natural connection for a man who got involved with the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival as a ticket-taker in 1977 and later became its photographer and music director.
Honor for a man who keeps Bix's spirit alive
It was a memorable moment at Davenport’s Clarion Hotel, of cheers and a standing ovation for this grand guy of jazz who knows so much about Bix that some think he is a member of the family.
The award was a commissioned 14-inch bronze of Bix, a good likeness of our golden boy, standing with legs crossed, bow-tied and a stubby cornet in hand.
“Already, we’re calling the statue ‘Oscar’ because we’ll be presenting one each year in the future,” says Ray Voss, Bettendorf, who holds the thankless job of being president of the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society.
Rich, of Moline, was surprised, to say the least. A modest man, he smiled and muttered quiet words of thanks. Rich is not well; he has been in a long struggle with lung cancer but was determined to be at this year’s 36th Bix Bash. “I think this may be my last one,” he told me a few weeks ago. Still, he is surprisingly hardy and plays occasional Sunday morning brunch gigs on guitar at the Radisson Quad-City Plaza.
A tribute to Rich was written by Jim Arpy and read Saturday night by Jim Peterson, a Bix relative. Arpy called Rich “Our roving ambassador, our ‘Doctor Jazz’ … To all who have given their time and talents to making the Bix Festival grow bigger over the years, Rich Johnson is a treasured icon, always on the trail of undiscovered chapters in the life of Bix, his musical idol.”
Members of Rich’s family were at the presentation. They were aware of the award but kept it a guarded hush-hush. Only a few outsiders knew.
“It was one of the town’s best kept secrets,” says Josh, with his typical slick-back ’20s hair. “We played ‘I’ll Be A Friend Forever’ because it was one of Rich’s favorite Bix recordings.”
The idea for a statue and award was fostered by Al VanTieghem, a benevolent part-time resident of the Quad-Cities who sponsored Randy Sandke’s band at the Bix. There has been talk of some annual “Oscar” honoring the mission of Bix Beiderbecke and jazz bash, and Al told Ray Voss, “This is something the Bix Society should be doing.” He brought the idea to his family, and the Ruth and Albert VanTieghem Family Fund agreed to pay $3,300 for the bronze and its mounting.
Three months ago, sculptor Ted McElhiney began work on it, using paintings by Quad-City artist Ward Olson as models. Now that there is a mold, future annual Bix Lives awards will cost about $600.
All along, the bronze was meant to be of a casual, carefree Bix, smiling and with big ears. It’s said that his big ears made it possible for him to hear notes that no one else could hear.
Celebrating the
spirit of
Bix: Moline's Rich Johnson stays immersed in jazz
|
Thursday, July 24, 2003 8:14 AM
CDT
Rich Johnson of Moline exemplifies the spirit of the Bix Jazz Festival.
This weekend, jazz, racing and festivity reign supreme in Davenport during the 32nd Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival, Bix 7 Race and street fair.
Johnson, the festival's music director, will be all over town as he helps make sure music lovers celebrate Bix Beiderbecke's 100th birthday this weekend with plenty of spirited, soul-fillin' jazz performed by 11 bands of note. Musical notes, that is.
"I've always been involved in music," says the 81-year-old Johnson, a life-long resident of Moline. "I went to college and got interested in jazz but Bix was special because of the way he played his horn. I wrote an article once on the mystique of Bix's music. There's something about it that captures people."
His mother worked for the writer Octavia Thanet, better known around the community as Alice French. Johnson eagerly took to playing the guitar and clarinet as a child. His brother Roland played piano and had a studio in the Whittaker building in downtown Davenport.
The musical instruments were stored away when both brothers answered the call to fight in World War II. Sadly, Roland, an infantry soldier, died of wounds received during a battle in Bologne, Italy.
"Roland ordered everyone back while he stayed in the gun position, holding off the Germans while the rest of his unit cleared out," Johnson said.
Roland's musical talents -like Bix's- ended too soon. Johnson returned home after serving 30 months over seas and attended Augustana College on the G.I. Bill. There he rekindled his interest in jazz and Bix, married and raised a family and worked as a senior planner for American Air Filter, Moline.
"Bix was special because of the way he played his horn. The improvisation was so unique," Johnson said. "Sometimes it's hard for people to understand how great Bix really was unless you're a musician. He had perfect pitch and he could visualize in his head, notes of an arrangement where the musicians were playing three or four parts."
He added, "Bix was not reading any music. He was playing notes that enhanced the harmony. That's why those musicians came here in the 1970s."
The first Bix gathering took place in 1971 to observe the 40th anniversary of Beiderbecke's death. Bill Donahoe, a business executive from New Jersey, brought the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Band of New Jersey to Davenport for a pilgrimage. The group looked forward to performing a few tunes at Bix's grave at Oakdale Cemetery and to visiting Bix' home and viewing places where the young musician had performed.
"The press picked up on this," Johnson said. The musicians came to Oakdale and were surprised to see a large group of people out there. What big shot brought those folks out?
Seconds later they found out the visitors were there to pay tribute to Bix.
The irony is, remarked Johnson, only eight people attended Bix's visitation.
Don O'Dette and Esten Spurrier, a boyhood friend of Bix, sat down afterwards and worked out plans for a yearly festival. The first took place in 1972.
Johnson got involved in 1977 as a ticket-taker. Eventually he became the festival's photographer and the music director in charge of the stage.
"The Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society is dedicated to the perpetuation of Bix's music and they work 12 months a year. We are traditional jazz and we stay with the traditional genre.," Johnson said.
The Society is celebrating Bix's 100th birthday with 11 bands. Included in the lineup are: the Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Band that helped start the festival back in 1971, New Wolverine Jazz Orchestra of Sidney, Australia, and the Bix Beiderbecke Youth Jazz Band of top young musicians from the Quad-Cities area.
Johnson is enjoying a few days of rest before gearing up for the furor starting later today with the Bix Porch Party at Davenport Public Library and opening night at the Col Ballroom. This year's festival includes two new, free concerts at Vander Veer Park, Davenport; and Middle Park, Bettendorf, in addition to the regular venues at LeClaire Park, Davenport Holiday Inn, and at the Col Ballroom and Danceland Ballrooms where Bix once performed.
These are places Johnson is very familiar with, observed Annie Peart, the Society's treasurer.
"People come from all over the world at all times of the year to see the Bix haunts," she said. "Rich is the one who does that because he knows these spots so well. "
In his spare time, Johnson enjoys playing with the Riverboaters Jazz Band and sleuthing for more information about the famed musician.
"Stuff pops up where you don't expect it that might lead to something else," he said. An Internet search for the name Bix Beiderbecke brings up around 32,000 results.
The Society's work continues even after the last note has faded away. As music director, Johnson and members of his committee, will begin working on next year's festival soon after the bands are back in their home cities.
"One of the things that's terrific about Rich is that he's a musician and has a terrific background in news writing and photography," Peart said. "Being a musician, he keeps on top of all these great bands around the country. He has attended other events around the country and that helps us bring in top bands."
Johnson sums up his ongoing relationship with jazz and the Society with a simple: "I'm lucky. I've met people from all around the world, taken them to Bix sites and getting to be friends with them."
And he looks forward to continuing that involvement in the years to come.
Article in the August Issue of The Mississippi Rag
Bix Expert Rich Johnson Was
A Friend of Many With Pleasure
Lew Shaw
Rich Johnson was true to Bix to the end.
Rich had long been considered one of the eminent authorities on the life and times of the legendary trumpeter, who, like Rich, came from the Quad Cities area that straddles the Mississippi River in the states of Illinois and Iowa.
Retired college professor Albert Haim who initiated the Bix Forum has stated, "For those who may not know about Rich's standing in the field of Bixology, I will say that he is simply the world's expert on anything and everything that pertains to Bix and his family, and his life in Davenport, Iowa."
From the Netherlands, Hans Eekoff seconded Haim's assessment when he wrote, "As far as I am concerned, you are the last sincere guardian of the Bix legend in the United States, mainly in the Davenport area." Jim Peterson whose family has a long and rich history in Davenport is on record saying, "In one sentence, Rich is one of the most dedicated and earnest Bixophiles in the whole wide world."
When Rich Johnson was diagnosed with cancer 18 months ago, his doctor wasn't optimistic he would be around to attend the annual Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Jazz Festival in July of 2007. Rich not only attended his 36th Bix Festival but was the recipient of the first-ever Bix Memorial Award for his service to the Bix Society and jazz community.
An edited version of the tribute described him as "college music major, decorated soldier, celebrated guitarist, photographer, writer, faithful friend to many throughout the world and tireless worker for the Society.
"For the past 36 years, Rich Johnson has been a treasured icon, always on the trail of undiscovered chapters in the life of Bix, his musical idol. His efforts to bring Bix's hometown history to light have caused others around the world to catch 'Bix Fever' and join in the search.
"He greatly aided in attracting top bands to participate in our Festival, but also set up jazz training sessions for school-age musicians as well as seminars with experts discussing Bix's contribution to jazz. Always looking to the future, Rich proclaimed that unless we train young musicians in traditional jazz, the music will one day be lost.
"A quiet, modest man, but with a mind packed not only with music history, but also an inexhaustible supply of jokes and sly quips, Rich did not seek honors or even thanks over his long years with the Bix Society, but he earned the respect of all who knew him."
Rich Johnson remained fairly active this past year and continued to play with several local bands until early June. He held out hope he could attend one last Bix Bash the weekend of July 25-27, but his condition deteriorated, and he spent his final days in a hospice facility.
On the Wednesday leading up to the Festival, Josh Duffee, a close friend and leader of the new Jean Goldkette Orchestra, prevailed on Spats Langham and the Rhythm Boys from Great Britain to play one last session for Rich. A group of relatives and friends gathered in the family room of the hospice, and Rich's bed was wheeled in to hear such Bix classics as "I'll Be a Friend with Pleasure" for the last time.
"I truly believe he could hear the music," his wife, Gail, said. "A good friend sat at the bedside holding his hand, and together they moved his arm back and forth to the jazz."
The next afternoon Rich Johnson peacefully passed away at age 86. Three Bix recordings that he requested were played at his funeral, and three bands performed at the reception that followed. He was buried with full military honors in his native Moline, Ill., wearing a Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society t-shirt.
On a personal note, I bid farewell to my dear friend by quoting a few lines from a poem read at my daughter's memorial service:
"We can be sad that he is gone, or we can smile because he has lived. We can remember him and only that he is gone, or we can cherish his memory and let it live on."
Images.
Rich's Father's Day Present, 2008
Rich and Gerri, July 2008
Rich's Forthcoming Book
Account of Rich's "Bix Lives Award" in Bix Notes Vol 16, No. 4, Fall 2007
Rich (holding the First "Bix Lives Award"), Gail and Jeffrey Johnson, Davenport, July 2007.
Rich's Bix Lives Award Certificate
From Sweden, courtesy of Paul Bocciolone Strandberg. Rich in front of his car with license plate
Bix 'N' Me
From Denmark, courtesy of Flemming Thornbye. Rich holding the Goldkette Award.
Rich receiving the Goldkette Award, Davenport, July 2005
Benefit and Concert, Davenport, Nov 18, 2007.
Rich 'N' Bix, Bix Cruise, 2003.
Bix Legacy Cruise, Nov 2005