Act I Episode 9 The Hawks Check In
The band that Colonel Kutlets sent to Tony – the
best rock and roll band available in the Summer of '65, finally showed up
in a small caravan consisting of an old late fifties Chevy sedan, a
Rambler station wagon with a luggage rack and a U-Haul rental box truck full of
equipment and clothes.
The Hawks got their name from Ronnie Hawkins, the Rockabilly roustabout who led the Hawks through a hundred roadhouses for years, mainly in the southern Gulf States, and while they had a good time, learned a lot and got tight with the music, Hawkins took the bulk of the money and gave them the change. So they decided to bail out, take a break and go back home to Toronto and heal their wounds, broke but proud and smarter.
If you don't know Rockabilly music and never heard of Ronnie Hawkins, he was the guy in the cowboy hat in the Last Waltz movie who did the rockabilly version of the Bo Diddley song, “Who Do You Love?” - “I walked forty seven miles of barbed wire, I use a cobra snake for a necktie, I got a brand new house on the roadside made from a rattlesnake hide, I got a brand new chimney made out of a human skull, now come on Robbie, let's take a little walk – who do you love?”
Hawkins' Last Waltz song gives you a pretty good idea of what it was like to play behind Rockin' Ronnie every night for five years so the Hawks got to be a really tight group.
The Hawks will tell you that they got tired of all the carousing and good time, afternoon practice and working six, seven nights a week and living in motels, but the truth of the matter is Ronnie Hawkins fell in love. He fell in love and got married and settled down because she didn't want to live on the road. Now at this point in time the reputation of the Hawks was at its best – they were the best, and knew it and wanted to get paid accordingly, and tendered a half-dozen offers to back other big name acts, but they were now so tight with the music they knew they could make it on their own instead of as a backup band.
They also had a few original songs they thought were pretty good and maybe even have enough original material to record an album one day.
All of the Hawks were Canadians except for Levon Helm, an Arkansas Razerback drummer who also fiddled around on a mandolin and after they left Ronnie Hawkins, Levon assumed the nominal leadership of the Hawks. Garth the organist, was by far the best musician of the lot, and he taught the others a lot about the serious side of music, especially young guitarists Rick Danko on bass and Robbie Robertson on rhythm and lead, both of whom were boyishly handsome and got all the girls. And then there was Richard Manual on piano, who had the voice – the vocal cords that could reach the kind of notes Roy Orbison could hit.
But it was Levon who Colonel Kutlets first convinced to take on this job, this mission and play for seven weeks at Tony Marts on Bay Avenue in Somers Point, New Jersey, and pre-billed as the best rock and roll band around.
The Hawks had never been to Tony Marts and had never been to the Jersey Shore, but they heard a lot about it from other bands they ran into on the music circuit, and they knew Tony Marts was a happen' place and the area had good weather. And they would pull in about two grand a week – American, for those seven weeks, stay in one place and get paid for doing what they loved to do – playing their kind of music.
They say there's only two kinds of music, good music and bad music, and while the Hawks had played their share of bad music over time, they were now a finely tuned, high energy rock and roll band that - once they got rolling, would knock your socks off.
It took them a day to decide whether or not to take the gig, two days to get their act together, and then another few days to make the drive from Toronto to Bay Avenue. Levon drove the big black sedan, with Robbie Robertson running shotgun and serving as navigator while Garth, the Quiet One, had the back seat all to himself, and he did what he usually did, just sat back and took it all in.
Richard Manual drove the Rambler, which had most of their clothes and uniforms, while grinning Rick Danko drove the U-Haul, filled mainly with equipment - speakers, amps, guitars, two drum kits, a piano and Garth's mammoth B-3 Hammond organ
Unlike as in the movie Eddie & the Cruisers, in which the leather jacketed Cruisers waltz in the front door and announce, “Tell Tony Eddie and Cruisers are here!” Levon parked next to the curb, a little up from the front doors so the truck could fit in and they could unload the equipment. One of the cleanup crew, broom in hand, led Levon through the dark club, past the upside down stools on the bars and out the back door, through the stacks of beer cases and keg to Tony's bunker office. The janitor knocked softly on the door, and without opposition from within turned the knob, opened the door a crack and said, “Mister Marotta, Levon and the Hawks are here.”
“Good,” Tony said, as the door was opened wider, Levon was shown in and the janitor went off to help the Hawks unload their equipment.
Tony was a no-nonsense guy who sat at his desk across from Levon Helm and politely but firmly explained what he expected – four one-hour long sets a night, six nights a week – off Mondays, and a commitment to play until Labor Day. It was all in the contract.
Tony explained that until they found a better place they could stay upstairs in the dressing rooms of the old hotel, and after taking a drag on his cigar, added emphatically - “And stay away from the Go-Go Girls!”
Levon nodded his head up and down in agreement, picked up his copy of the contract and shook Tony's hand. The best part of the deal was the two grand a week, with a bonus if they finished their contract until Labor Day, divided six ways – Levon, Robbie, Garth, Richard, Rick and Colonel Kutlets, who arranged the deal and got his share of the stakes as if he was one of the band.
“Me and Colonel Kutlets have great faith in you boys,” Tony said, blowing smoke and mentioning that Conway Twitty had filled in like a trooper and left that morning to go on a short tour, but he was returning the following weekend for another run on the main stage. With Conway Twitty and the best rock & roll band around, everyone was expecting great things.
Out front Levon was all smiles as he held the glass doors open so they could wheel Garth's B-3 Hammond organ in to set up at the center of the main stage, where they would play until Conway Twitty came back, and took his place as king of the hill.
After checking out the dressing rooms and facilities upstairs, and putting their stage clothes and belongings away, Levon and Garth decided to check out the neighborhood and scope out the scene. They walked across the street to the open air Clam Bar at Smith's Pier, where they got a half dozen clams on the half shell, some steamers and chowder and learned from the waitress that some of the musicians and bartenders from Bay Shores rent rooms by the week at the Anchorage Hotel down the street.
At the Anchorage, an old, historic clapboard hotel that dates to the 1880s, they met Andrew Cornaglia, the young, 21 year old owner whose father had recently passed away and suddenly thrust Andrew into the role of a bar and restaurant owner.
Not just a bar, the Cornaglia family – his mother made the sauce in the kitchen, the mussels were steamed and the fine Italian cuisine attracted a strong clientele from their South Philly neighborhood. But the sudden influx of college students got Andrew to make some changes to accommodate the younger crowd, and not concentrate so much on the older folks his father had catered to.
While Garth Hudson sat down and began tinkling the keys of the old “Tom Thumb” piano against the wall, Levon made a deal with Andrew to rent a few rooms upstairs for the rest of the summer, a place they could get away from work and have some privacy.
Andrew said that all he had were a few rooms on the third floor.
While Garth, the Quiet Man, hardly said a word, he was by far the best musician of the lot, and even though the piano didn't have a full keyboard, and some of the keys didn't work at all, he made that Tom Thumb piano come alive, garnering the attention of Andrew and everyone else among the relatively serene lunch crowd.
With his easy smile and back country twang, Levon had the ability to quickly gain the confidence of whoever he was talking to, and it wasn't long before Andrew was telling him how his father and mother ran the place one way, and now he had to run it his way, and he was making some changes even though the regular customers didn't appreciate it.
His mother and father catered mainly to the neighbors from back home who took day trips to the shore. Now Andrew said, the College Kids had discovered the place and he was making more money selling them cheep beer and drinks than he was selling pasta and wine. So Andrew hired a few young bartenders and they began to draw a younger crowd who drank more and spent more money. Before hitting Tony Marts or Bay Shores, the College Kids made a stop at the Anchorage a part of the routine. And Andrew liked counting the money at the end of the night.
Andrew gave Levon the lowdown on some of the peculiar attributes of the local scene, and then turned around and told Garth that the piano he was playing was left behind by the Three Keys – who once played before the Queen of England.
“Now only Tedo Mambo plays it,” he added.
“Tido Mambo?” Levon repeated the name.
“You'll meet him soon enough,” Andrew said. “He's living on the third floor too.”
Levon made the deal before looking at the rooms upstairs, and just shrugged when he saw that the windows were painted black because most of the occupants over the years worked all night and had to sleep during the day, but it was okay.
Once they had a basic understanding of the lay of the land, the Hawks reconvened in the dressing rooms above Tony Marts to get ready for their premier performance at the Point.
The Hawks got their name from Ronnie Hawkins, the Rockabilly roustabout who led the Hawks through a hundred roadhouses for years, mainly in the southern Gulf States, and while they had a good time, learned a lot and got tight with the music, Hawkins took the bulk of the money and gave them the change. So they decided to bail out, take a break and go back home to Toronto and heal their wounds, broke but proud and smarter.
If you don't know Rockabilly music and never heard of Ronnie Hawkins, he was the guy in the cowboy hat in the Last Waltz movie who did the rockabilly version of the Bo Diddley song, “Who Do You Love?” - “I walked forty seven miles of barbed wire, I use a cobra snake for a necktie, I got a brand new house on the roadside made from a rattlesnake hide, I got a brand new chimney made out of a human skull, now come on Robbie, let's take a little walk – who do you love?”
Hawkins' Last Waltz song gives you a pretty good idea of what it was like to play behind Rockin' Ronnie every night for five years so the Hawks got to be a really tight group.
The Hawks will tell you that they got tired of all the carousing and good time, afternoon practice and working six, seven nights a week and living in motels, but the truth of the matter is Ronnie Hawkins fell in love. He fell in love and got married and settled down because she didn't want to live on the road. Now at this point in time the reputation of the Hawks was at its best – they were the best, and knew it and wanted to get paid accordingly, and tendered a half-dozen offers to back other big name acts, but they were now so tight with the music they knew they could make it on their own instead of as a backup band.
They also had a few original songs they thought were pretty good and maybe even have enough original material to record an album one day.
All of the Hawks were Canadians except for Levon Helm, an Arkansas Razerback drummer who also fiddled around on a mandolin and after they left Ronnie Hawkins, Levon assumed the nominal leadership of the Hawks. Garth the organist, was by far the best musician of the lot, and he taught the others a lot about the serious side of music, especially young guitarists Rick Danko on bass and Robbie Robertson on rhythm and lead, both of whom were boyishly handsome and got all the girls. And then there was Richard Manual on piano, who had the voice – the vocal cords that could reach the kind of notes Roy Orbison could hit.
But it was Levon who Colonel Kutlets first convinced to take on this job, this mission and play for seven weeks at Tony Marts on Bay Avenue in Somers Point, New Jersey, and pre-billed as the best rock and roll band around.
The Hawks had never been to Tony Marts and had never been to the Jersey Shore, but they heard a lot about it from other bands they ran into on the music circuit, and they knew Tony Marts was a happen' place and the area had good weather. And they would pull in about two grand a week – American, for those seven weeks, stay in one place and get paid for doing what they loved to do – playing their kind of music.
They say there's only two kinds of music, good music and bad music, and while the Hawks had played their share of bad music over time, they were now a finely tuned, high energy rock and roll band that - once they got rolling, would knock your socks off.
It took them a day to decide whether or not to take the gig, two days to get their act together, and then another few days to make the drive from Toronto to Bay Avenue. Levon drove the big black sedan, with Robbie Robertson running shotgun and serving as navigator while Garth, the Quiet One, had the back seat all to himself, and he did what he usually did, just sat back and took it all in.
Richard Manual drove the Rambler, which had most of their clothes and uniforms, while grinning Rick Danko drove the U-Haul, filled mainly with equipment - speakers, amps, guitars, two drum kits, a piano and Garth's mammoth B-3 Hammond organ
Unlike as in the movie Eddie & the Cruisers, in which the leather jacketed Cruisers waltz in the front door and announce, “Tell Tony Eddie and Cruisers are here!” Levon parked next to the curb, a little up from the front doors so the truck could fit in and they could unload the equipment. One of the cleanup crew, broom in hand, led Levon through the dark club, past the upside down stools on the bars and out the back door, through the stacks of beer cases and keg to Tony's bunker office. The janitor knocked softly on the door, and without opposition from within turned the knob, opened the door a crack and said, “Mister Marotta, Levon and the Hawks are here.”
“Good,” Tony said, as the door was opened wider, Levon was shown in and the janitor went off to help the Hawks unload their equipment.
Tony was a no-nonsense guy who sat at his desk across from Levon Helm and politely but firmly explained what he expected – four one-hour long sets a night, six nights a week – off Mondays, and a commitment to play until Labor Day. It was all in the contract.
Tony explained that until they found a better place they could stay upstairs in the dressing rooms of the old hotel, and after taking a drag on his cigar, added emphatically - “And stay away from the Go-Go Girls!”
Levon nodded his head up and down in agreement, picked up his copy of the contract and shook Tony's hand. The best part of the deal was the two grand a week, with a bonus if they finished their contract until Labor Day, divided six ways – Levon, Robbie, Garth, Richard, Rick and Colonel Kutlets, who arranged the deal and got his share of the stakes as if he was one of the band.
“Me and Colonel Kutlets have great faith in you boys,” Tony said, blowing smoke and mentioning that Conway Twitty had filled in like a trooper and left that morning to go on a short tour, but he was returning the following weekend for another run on the main stage. With Conway Twitty and the best rock & roll band around, everyone was expecting great things.
Out front Levon was all smiles as he held the glass doors open so they could wheel Garth's B-3 Hammond organ in to set up at the center of the main stage, where they would play until Conway Twitty came back, and took his place as king of the hill.
After checking out the dressing rooms and facilities upstairs, and putting their stage clothes and belongings away, Levon and Garth decided to check out the neighborhood and scope out the scene. They walked across the street to the open air Clam Bar at Smith's Pier, where they got a half dozen clams on the half shell, some steamers and chowder and learned from the waitress that some of the musicians and bartenders from Bay Shores rent rooms by the week at the Anchorage Hotel down the street.
At the Anchorage, an old, historic clapboard hotel that dates to the 1880s, they met Andrew Cornaglia, the young, 21 year old owner whose father had recently passed away and suddenly thrust Andrew into the role of a bar and restaurant owner.
Not just a bar, the Cornaglia family – his mother made the sauce in the kitchen, the mussels were steamed and the fine Italian cuisine attracted a strong clientele from their South Philly neighborhood. But the sudden influx of college students got Andrew to make some changes to accommodate the younger crowd, and not concentrate so much on the older folks his father had catered to.
While Garth Hudson sat down and began tinkling the keys of the old “Tom Thumb” piano against the wall, Levon made a deal with Andrew to rent a few rooms upstairs for the rest of the summer, a place they could get away from work and have some privacy.
Andrew said that all he had were a few rooms on the third floor.
While Garth, the Quiet Man, hardly said a word, he was by far the best musician of the lot, and even though the piano didn't have a full keyboard, and some of the keys didn't work at all, he made that Tom Thumb piano come alive, garnering the attention of Andrew and everyone else among the relatively serene lunch crowd.
With his easy smile and back country twang, Levon had the ability to quickly gain the confidence of whoever he was talking to, and it wasn't long before Andrew was telling him how his father and mother ran the place one way, and now he had to run it his way, and he was making some changes even though the regular customers didn't appreciate it.
His mother and father catered mainly to the neighbors from back home who took day trips to the shore. Now Andrew said, the College Kids had discovered the place and he was making more money selling them cheep beer and drinks than he was selling pasta and wine. So Andrew hired a few young bartenders and they began to draw a younger crowd who drank more and spent more money. Before hitting Tony Marts or Bay Shores, the College Kids made a stop at the Anchorage a part of the routine. And Andrew liked counting the money at the end of the night.
Andrew gave Levon the lowdown on some of the peculiar attributes of the local scene, and then turned around and told Garth that the piano he was playing was left behind by the Three Keys – who once played before the Queen of England.
“Now only Tedo Mambo plays it,” he added.
“Tido Mambo?” Levon repeated the name.
“You'll meet him soon enough,” Andrew said. “He's living on the third floor too.”
Levon made the deal before looking at the rooms upstairs, and just shrugged when he saw that the windows were painted black because most of the occupants over the years worked all night and had to sleep during the day, but it was okay.
Once they had a basic understanding of the lay of the land, the Hawks reconvened in the dressing rooms above Tony Marts to get ready for their premier performance at the Point.
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