Don Cornelius, the producer and television host who created the dance show “Soul Train,” was found shot dead in his Los Angeles home early Wednesday morning in what appears to be a suicide, the Los Angeles Police Department and the county coroner’s office said. He was 75 years old.
A person called the police from Mr. Cornelius’s house on Mulholland Drive in the Sherman Oaks neighborhood just before 4 a.m. and reported shots had been fired, a police spokesman, Chris No, said. When officers arrived, they were let into the house and found Mr. Cornelius lying lifeless on the floor with a gunshot wound to the head that appeared to be self-inflicted, said the Los Angeles County assistant chief coroner, Ed Winter.
Mr. Cornelius was taken to Cedar-Sinai Medical Center, where he was pronounced dead at 4:56 a.m., Mr. Winter said. “It was reported as a suicide, a self-inflicted wound,” he said. “I have investigators at the hospital.”
“Soul Train” was one of the longest-running syndicated shows in television history and played a critical role in spreading the music of black America to the world, offering wide exposure to musicians like James Brown, Aretha Franklin and Michael Jackson in the 1970s and 1980s.
“I am shocked and deeply saddened at the sudden passing of my friend, colleague and business partner Don Cornelius,” said Quincy Jones, according to the Associated Press. “Don was a visionary pioneer and a giant in our business. Before MTV, there was ‘Soul Train.’ That will be the great legacy of Don Cornelius. His contributions to television, music and our culture as a whole will never be matched. My heart goes out to Don’s family and loved ones.”
Mr. Cornelius, a former disc jockey, created the show in 1970 in Chicago on WCIU-TV and served as its writer, producer and host. Quickly becoming a success, the show was broadcast nationally in 1971, beginning its 35-year run. Besides the performers, the program showcased young dancers who would strut their stuff, laying the groundwork for countless dance programs, including current hits like Fox’s “So You Think You Can Dance” and MTV’s “America’s Best Dance Crew.” “We had a show that kids gravitated to,” Mr. Cornelius said.
In a 2010 interview with The Los Angeles Times, Mr. Cornelius said he was excited about a movie project he was developing about the show. “We’ve been in discussions with several people about getting a movie off the ground. It wouldn’t be the ‘Soul Train’ dance show. It would be more of a biographical look at the project,” he said. “It’s going to be about some of the things that really happened on the show.” Mr. Cornelius stopped hosting the show in 1993, and “Soul Train” ceased production in 2006. Two years later, he sold the show to MadVision Entertainment. Exporting Soul “Soul Train,” hosted and produced by Don Cornelius, offered important exposure to many notable African-American acts. The list is much longer than this. But here are just a few of the Names that owe a debt to Don and his brand of exposure. Aretha Franklin The Jackson 5 James Brown Marvin Gaye Rick James Barry White Gladys Knight and the Pips DJ Jazzy Jeff and theFresh Prince!!!
Etta James, whose powerful, versatile and emotionally direct voice could enliven the raunchiest blues as well as the subtlest love songs, most indelibly in her signature hit, “At Last,” died Friday morning in Riverside, Calif. She was 73.
Her manager, Lupe De Leon, said that the cause was complications of leukemia. Ms. James, who died at Riverside Community Hospital, had been undergoing treatment for some time for a number of conditions, including leukemia and dementia. She also lived in Riverside.
BEFORE THERE WAS ARETHA...........THERE WAS ETTA JAMES
TELL MAMA!
Ms. James was not easy to pigeonhole. She is most often referred to as a rhythm and blues singer, and that is how she made her name in the 1950s with records like “Good Rockin’ Daddy.” She is in both the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Blues Hall of Fame.
She was also comfortable, and convincing, singing pop standards, as she did in 1961 with “At Last,” which was written in 1941 and originally recorded by Glenn Miller’s orchestra. And among her four Grammy Awards (including a lifetime-achievement honor in 2003) was one for best jazz vocal performance, which she won in 1995 for the album “Mystery Lady: Songs of Billie Holiday.”
Few R&B singers have endured tragic travails on the monumental level that Etta James has and remain on earth to talk about it. The lady's no shrinking violet; her autobiography, Rage to Survive, describes her past (including numerous drug addictions) in sordid detail.
But her personal problems have seldom affected her singing. James has hung in there from the age of R&B and doo wop in the mid-'50s through soul's late-'60s heyday and right up into the '90s and 2000s (where her 1994 disc Mystery Lady paid loving jazz-based tribute to one of her idols, Billie Holiday). Etta James' voice has deepened over the years, coarsened more than a little, but still conveys remarkable passion and pain.
Jamesetta Hawkins was a child gospel prodigy, singing in her Los Angeles Baptist church choir (and over the radio) when she was only five years old under the tutelage of Professor James Earle Hines. She moved to San Francisco in 1950, soon teaming with two other girls to form a singing group. When she was 14, bandleader Johnny Otis gave the trio an audition. He particularly dug their answer song to Hank Ballard & the Midnighters' "Work With Me Annie."
As a fledgling politician in Chicago, Barack Obama was advised more than once by consultants that he might want to consider changing his name—all three of them, in fact. “Barry” would be a great deal less foreign-sounding than Barack, one media consultant told him, and “Hussein” was a middle name reminiscent, for many, of an Iraqi tyrant and worth consigning to oblivion. As for his last name, well, to carry around a perfect rhyme for the most notorious terrorist in the world was a political liability beyond imagining. In the post 9/11 world, “Obama” was a cheap tabloid pun waiting to happen. Nevertheless, the young South Side politician ignored the advice, won a U.S. Senate seat, in 2004, and took the oath of office as President on January 20, 2009 using the same name that appears on his Hawaiian birth documents (both the long and short versions): Barack Hussein Obama, II.
As Obama said Sunday night from the East Room of the White House, he had long ago promised to make a priority of bringing Osama bin Laden to justice. Now “justice has been done,” the President said as he announced that a team of American intelligence operatives killed bin Laden in a firefight in Pakistan. His late-night statement—sober, direct, even, at times, thick-tongued with nervousness—rightly avoided any note of triumphalism, any hint of the “U.S.A! U.S.A.!” “Yes We Can!” cheering coming from the crowd outside the White House gates in Lafayette Park. But there could be no mistaking his relief, the national relief, that the symbolic and ideological head of a hideous multinational terror organization, responsible for the deaths of many thousands, was gone at last.
Steve Coll has brilliantly outlined the life of bin Laden and his family in his book “The Bin Ladens: An Arabian Family in the American Century” and Lawrence Wright has done no less in describing the rise of Al Qaeda and bin Laden’s Egyptian deputy Ayman al-Zawahiri in his “The Looming Tower.”
But what of Obama’s history with Osama bin Laden?
In September, 2001, Obama was an obscure state senator from Hyde Park. He had just lost badly in an attempt to win away a congressional seat from the former Black Panther and local favorite Bobby Rush. In the wake of that humbling, Michelle Obama was hoping that her husband would quit politics once and for all, and Obama was thinking about it.
On September 19, 2001, little more than a week after the attacks on the Pentagon and the World Trade towers, Obama’s local paper, the Hyde Park Herald, published a series of reactions to the events from the two U.S. senators from Illinois, Richard Durbin and Peter Fitzgerald; Bobby Rush; and minor local pols like Obama. In his brief article for the Herald, Obama started out by writing some routine lines about renewing security standards at airports, strengthening intelligence networks, and “dismantling” the networks of those who carried out “these heinous attacks.” Ordinary stuff. But he also talked about “the more difficult task of understanding the sources of such madness.”
“The essence of this tragedy, it seems to me, derives from a fundamental absence of empathy on the part of the attackers: an inability to imagine, or connect with, the humanity and suffering of others,” he wrote. “Such a failure of empathy, such numbness to the pain of a child or the desperation of a parent, is not innate; nor, history tells us, is it unique to a particular culture, religion, or ethnicity….” “We will have to make sure, despite our rage, that any U.S. military action takes into account the lives of innocent civilians abroad,” he went on. “We will have to be unwavering in opposing bigotry or discrimination directed against neighbors and friends of Middle Eastern descent. Finally, we will have to devote far more attention to the monumental task of raising the hopes of embittered children across the globe—children not just in the Middle East, but also in Africa, Asia, Latin American, Eastern Europe, and within our own shores.”
It was precisely that kind of talk that was branded as “soft” in the wake of 9/11 and throughout the Bush years, straight through the 2008 election campaign. It was precisely that sort of attempt to talk not merely in the register of prosecution and military aggression, but also of understanding root causes, whether at an anti-Iraq war rally in Chicago or at a Presidential speech in Cairo, that left so many wondering if Barack Obama would have the strength to “go after” Osama bin Laden. Now there is an answer.
There is no getting around the fact that Osama bin Laden—a murderer of the most vicious sort—succeeded on his own terms in so many ways. He was the inspiration not only for the most catastrophic attack on American shores since the Second World War, as well as many other bloody attacks around the world; he also managed in his ugly lifetime to distort, confuse, and undermine the course of political history all over the world, not least in the United States. The day of Osama’s death is a great relief, a moment of real justice. It is no less joyful to know that at the root of the “Arab Spring” is a yearning to end tyranny, not to bring it on in its most fundamentalist forms. But the work of conquering bin Ladenism does not end with the work of killing bin Laden. The fight against obscurantism and terror remains infinitely complex and demands, among other things, political leadership that acknowledges the importance of mind and heart, as well as muscle.
Why is it that a Black Man can create a tiny piece called a filament (electric light - Lewis Latimer) that allows people to see in the dark? But can't be seen as fit to lead a country to the true light. Why is it that a Black Man can create an instrument (clock - Benjamin Banneker) that all people use to tell time? But people don't think it is time for him to run a country. Why is it that a Black Man can design a place for the high authorities to meet in and a place for the president to live in (The Capital and the White House Phillip Reid (a slave) and Pierre L'Enfant)? But not good enough to lead these meetings or live in himself. Why is it that a Black Man was brilliant enough to do the first open heart surgery (Dr. Daniel Hale Williams) and show the world how to get and preserve plasma (Dr. Charles Drew)?But not good enough to put a program in place where everyone can afford this surgery. Why is it that a Black Man was creative enough to design an instrument (traffic light - Garrett Morgan) to bring multiple people (traffic) to a halt? But not seen creative enough to design a plan to bring all this unnecessary and worthless fighting between countries, to an end. Why is it that a Black Man could create the soles (shoes - Jan Matzeliger) that people walk on every day? But not seen good enough to fill the shoes of a bad president. Why is it that a Black Man was smart enough and brave enough to teach himself (Fredrick Douglas and Thomas Fuller - both slaves) and others how to read, write and/or calculate math? But not seen smart enough and bold enough to calculate a platform to be President to a country that sure needs another first by us. So you see my Brothers and Sisters, what I am saying is, let us not forgot our past which led us to our present and can definitely be the backbone to our future. We were good enough, smart enough, creative enough, and bold enough then, so let us all give Obama the chance to show that we are still these things and more. We all are as strong as our weakest link, so do not be that weak link that denies our people that chance to show we still can OVERCOME AND BE THE FIRST! THE PRESIDENT OF THESE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA !
LET US ALL CONTINUE PRAYING THAT THIS PRESIDENT WILL ADHERE TO AND BE LED BY FAITH.
Angela Bofill waits in a plain, beige dressing room at the Birchmere, preparing to go onstage without something she has lost. It's not a small thing.
Most people, says one fan of the '80s R&B balladeer, would shut down, would be content to live out their lives offstage, out of the spotlight, wherever it is that old singers go to fade away. The music business demands perfection. A certain look. At the least, it demands a voice.
"I love perform," says Bofill, 56, her syntax fractured, her rhythm stop-and-start. She's illuminated by bright lights but not an ounce of glitter or sequins. Instead, she wears a black-print blazer. A cane leans against the dressing table. "I used to study opera. Used to teach voice.
I Used to have perfect pitch. Now, no pitch. Bad pitch. Frustrated - little bit. Half my life, singing. First time. No sing." She says she sounds like an old movie. "Me, Tarzan. You, Jane," she jokes.Jazz singer Angela Bofill makes a comeback without voice that made her famous.
In case You hadn't Guessed by now Angela Bofill suffered a Major Stroke
This is a tribute to her courage. I don't know when that stroke happened. Some time ago I suspectbut she has recently staged a comeback in a most unique way. The story is an inspiration to me and I hope it will be to you as well. But first some music from the fabulous voice!!
"I used to study opera. Used to teach voice. Used to have perfect pitch. Now, no pitch. Bad pitch. Frustrated - little bit. Half my life, singing. First time. No sing."
She says she sounds like an old movie. "Me, Tarzan. You, Jane," she jokes.
Outside in the dark, cold parking lot, a sold-out crowd lines up for Sunday night's show: "The Angela Bofill Experience." After two strokes and a five-year absence from the stage, Bofill's name is again on the marquee. Fans have come from as far away as New Jersey, some cradling Bofill's original albums, which show an absolutely gorgeous woman.
Outside in the dark, cold parking lot, a sold-out crowd lines up for Sunday night's show: "The Angela Bofill Experience." After two strokes and a five-year absence from the stage, Bofill's name is again on the marquee. Fans have come from as far away as New Jersey, some cradling Bofill's original albums, which show an absolutely gorgeous woman.
Bofill closes her eyes as a makeup artist paints on thick black liner. Not many entertainers would have the courage to do what Bofill is about to do. Not many would be so bold.
"I feel happy performing again," Bofill says. "I need crowd. In the blood, entertain. Any time a crowd comes to see me, I'm surprised. No sing no more and still people come. Wow. Impressed." She laughs. But before she will get to the stage, she has to get out of the chair. She leans forward. No. She leans forward again. "I conquer my chair - damn it! Nose over the toes. Nose over toes." Up. She grabs her cane, covered in butterflies. "I love the cane. Mother told me J. Lo uses cane dancing. Sweet!
Behind the wall, she can hear the singer Maysa onstage performing Bofill's signature hit, "Angel of the Night." Maysa's voice is big and powerful, blowing through the thin walls of the dressing room.
There is a flash of envy from Bofill. "Used to play timbale to that song before the stroke," Bofill says. "Now, cowbell." Her big brown eyes look down. "Oh, well. One day, this arm awake. I don't know. Strange disease, stroke. Before no idea why person walk funny. Now, I get it - stroke." "It really slows my roll up, you know. But grace, still alive. Some people no make it. No eat a long time. Need a feeding tube. Awful. Only good thing I lose weight. A stroke diet. It works!"
Eventually, she began talking again. "But my voice no sing. I rather not sing. Awful. Crack me up! Funny! I laugh about it. But very grateful - still living. Never take things for granted. I think a stroke - no joke. Yes. But, I think a better a person."
She is laughing now, but a few years back, she was severely depressed. She had no voice and no health insurance. Her hospital bills piled up. Celebrities held benefit concerts across the country to raise money for her. Some singers she thought were friends called with empty promises of help. She had to sell her house in California. She moved in with her sister. Despondent, she spent most days in front of the television, flipping channels.
"First time very depressed," Bofill says. "Crying all the time. Turns out a side effect of the stroke. Made me depressed." Still, she seemed to be recuperating. Doctors said she might sing again. But a year later, she had another stroke that left her without the one thing a singer needs.
"It was devastating to lose her singing voice," Engel said. "When you take a voice away from a singer, nothing is worse. A lot of it was like, 'What do I do now, now that I can't sing?' That was her life. Her livelihood was being onstage."
Engel used to call her daily. "She was just down," he said. "That is all she did was hang around and watch TV. She didn't try writing any music. She didn't try writing any stories. I'd say, 'How you doing, Angie?' She would say, 'I'm bored.' " Engel would make suggestions.
"Finally, I said, 'You got to get off your ass, Angie! You are a good-looking woman. It's not like you are dead!' "
That's when the idea came to him. He would create a show starring Bofill. Just like old times. She wouldn't be able to sing, but she could tell her stories. He called members of her old band. They were game. He called Dave Valentin, the legendary flutist who helped Bofill get her first record deal.
He said, 'Angie wants you. Without Dave Valentin, I'm not doing the show,' " Valentin recalls. "I told him, 'Of course, I'm doing it.' "
Engel sought soul and jazz singer Maysa, who grew up in Baltimore listening to Bofill. Maysa, who was a member of the British band Incognito, agreed to join the show.
"I have been listening to her since I was 12 or 13 years old," Maysa says of Bofill. "That is how I cut my teeth. Mother had to buy new albums, because I would wear them out. When you listen to someone so long, it is amazing to be onstage. She is looking at me singing her music. It's like a student getting approval from the teacher.
"At first, I was nervous. I wanted her to be proud. I don't know if I could have the strength to sit there and watch someone singing my songs. But she is happy."
The first five "Angela Bofill Experience" shows sold out in San Francisco. Fans came, knowing Bofill couldn't sing. They just wanted to see her again. The show - even without her voice - drew rave reviews. Engel says he wants to get a movie made of Bofill's life. "Ultimately, I'd like to take the show to Broadway."
At the Birchmere, Bofill is wheeled up a ramp. She doesn't like the wheelchair. When she gets to the edge of the stage, she rises and the crowd applauds - an ovation that grows louder as she walks haltingly across the stage. The house lights go up. She sits in a chair and tells stories. Maysa sings.
Bofill moves her mouth. "Lip-syncing," she tells the crowd.
The audience laughs. Videos flash of Bofill in her heyday. The crowd is quiet. The show is like a memorial concert, except Bofill is still very much alive. Laughing but unable to sing.
"Sometimes," Bofill says, "I crack me up. Better to laugh than cry. Turned out, me a comedian." She laughs. "Instead of a stand-up comic - a sitting-down comic."
I INTEND TO SHARE MORE INFORMATION ABOUT HER and HER MUSIC ALL MONTH LONG!I Hope your comments will post your favorite music by her as well. Come on everybody, LETS CELEBRATE ANGELA'S COURAGE!
I am a semi - retired university professor who likes to write ...observe the foibles of the world...comment on life in general ......hang out in interesting places, and meet interesting, independent people
I am an incurable ROMANTIC and I do believe in LOVE! I love to cook, Listen to all kinds of music as long as it talks TRUTH, and I am drawn to that which is AUTHENTIC and UN-COMPROMISED!!!
