We'd come off a two week gig in Vegas at The Mint hotel, a week in San Diego, then back to New York on one of the earliest 747 flights, and now off to play outdoor gigs at Grona Lund in Stockholm, Liseberg in Gothenburg and finally to Furuviksparken, just outside of Gavle ~ 200 kilometers north of Stockholm. Then home for some down time ...

After my group - David, della Rosa & Brooks - bit the dust in '69 I'd gone to work for Josh White, Jr....a friend of many road years, a man who'd grown up under the shadow of his dad - The Legendary Blues performer Josh White. To his friends Josh Jr. was 'Donnie', a wonderful single folk performer of enormous talent and guitar skill. We also shared a management company - Yorktown Talent Associates. Donnie wanted to spread out a bit and start doing some club gigs and so I came on to play piano and write the arrangements. We always picked up a local drummer, bass player, and guitarist in the town we were going to and so I also fronted that band.

We did all kinds of gigs beyond clubs; Mike Douglas's TV Show out of Philly, a great PBS showcase at WGBH in Boston - Black Journal - with just the two of us on a set that was lit like a Film Noir black & white movie from the 40's. Really cool look. Don sat on a stool next to me at the trusty ol' Steinway Grand. It was good. I recall we did a couple days at the University of Hartford where Donnie became an 'Artist-In-Residence' for a few days. Different venues on the campus ... workshops ... My least favorite booking was 'The Garage' in St.Louis, in August of '69. The club was very nice, the musicians picked it up right off ... but that week was the week Woodstock hit Max Yasgur's Farm in Upstate New York and I would've given my left one to be there, fully realizing that if I'd gone ... I'd probably never be the same again. Seemed like a reasonable trade-off at the time ....
 

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We landed in Stockholm at sometime in the early morning and went to the Hotel Castle on Nybrogatan. Stockholm is an island city and so when we went to work we walked down Nybrogatan to Nybroplan, boarded a ferry boat, and off we went to 'Grona Lund', an outdoor amusement and recreation area where we did two shows a night. The next week began with a short flight to the west coast of Sweden to Gothenberg for a week at 'Liseberg', another outdoor park.

After the Gothenburg gig we flew back to Stockholm and drove 200 kilometers north to Gavle, pronounced 'Yevla' for a couple days at a funky little Park and Zoo called Furuviksparken - 'Few-dew-vicks Parkin'. For this gig we discovered we had an opening act, a Rock Band out of Prague, Czechoslovakia. Yes, I said  ... A Rock Band Out Of Prague, Czechoslovakia. Hey...it's The Road.  So we made it a point to catch the opening act, not really knowing what to expect from ... a Rock Band ... from Prague ...

                                               6:00pm, curtain up, lights ... downbeat....Lead Singer sang ...

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                                                                  'What goes up, must come down,
                                                                  Spinning Wheel got to go round'.

                                                            ... the old 'Blood, Sweat & Tears' cover ...

 

The Lead Singer was a woman. In fact, the whole Rock Band from Prague were...women. Handsome. Young. Women. In Black Jumpsuits. Keyboard, Bass, Drums, Guitar, 3 Horns, and they were kickin' Czechoslovakian ass all over Furuviksparken.

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Donnie and I were of course fully engaged in the set. And quite attentive to this outstanding group of young women from Prague. I noticed Don was checking his Afro so I got busy trying to come up with a way to get this band to defect. I closed my eyes and we were in Vegas. At Caesar's Palace. The Main Room, of course. Even had the name picked out...'Josh White, Jr. & The Iron Curtain'. They would appear in black jumpsuits, Don would be in a white one. I was truly having a Cosmic Moment.

There was only one problem and we realized it after their set was over: none of the women spoke English. In fact that far north in Sweden not many people did speak English. The guitar player, a willowy thing with long dark hair, had spent a Summer on a commune in Cuba and I had taken Spanish in High School so we actually conversed in monosyllabic noises that assured us all that not only wouldn't they defect, they'd also not have any interest in hanging out.

So close...so close....

Now...a word about The Scandinavian Summer. Donnie & I were in Sweden during 'Medsommer' - The Summer Solstice. June 22nd. In Furuvik the sun dipped to the horizon at about 8:00pm. It never really got dark ... more like 5 hours of 'dusk'. And we were on the beach at The Gulf of Bothnia at 2:00am. The Swedes we met were always outdoors in the Summer. They were rarely at home.  In the Winter they're always home. Sweden is a lovely country in June ...

The night before we left found me at the bar in a cozy drinking & gambling establishment near the hotel in Stockholm. A quiet night ...  not many folks out drinking or gambling ... and I got to talking with a young black man, an American. I bought him a beer, he spotted me with a cigarette ... a North Vietnamese cigarette ... I was a smoker in those days. It seems he had been in the Army in Nam and had walked away from the war. Got on a plane and flew to Sweden because Sweden didn't extradite American Deserters in those years. He was from New Haven, Connecticut and was quite happy living in Sweden but I picked up a touch of The Melancholy from him ... He asked about The States, how was the resistance going, would Nixon ever end the war ... things like that. After a while he grew quiet. We had another beer and toasted our home country and then he looked at me and said, " I just don't know if I can take another Winter here".

We left the next morning for New York City. I am hopeful he made it home somehow too ...

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