Jack Teagarden Audio Oral History, 4: Boyhood Photo & Tales of Wingy Manone (+Bonus Book)

(For Paying Subscribers, you will find below a PDF of the complete 274-page autobiography of Wingy Manone, a book that is very entertaining as well as historically valuable!)

We’ve been studying the previously unheard oral history of Weldon Leo “Jack” Teagarden (1905-1964), one of the most admired and influential of all jazz trombonists. Jazz historian Charles Edward Smith (1904-1970) conducted these interviews in 1947 for something like six hours. This is a very significant historical resource, but it was never published in any form, and I’ve had it on reel-to-reel tape for many years. (I thank my former grad student, jazz scholar and trombonist Alex Rodriguez, for transferring it to digital files.) In the previous installments (see the Index), Jack has talked mostly about his early years in his native Texas and thereabouts. In essay 1 of this series he mentioned a boyhood photo that I couldn’t find. I have since found it in the Jack Teagarden documentary, which shows dozens of rare photos and newspapeer clippings from the huge collection of the late Joe Showler:

At the end of Part Three Jack recalls that he learned, probably in November 1927, that the pianist who was his colleague in drummer Edwin “Doc” Ross’s band—actually he was named Cecil “Snaps” Elliott—was about to drive to New York to lend support to his wife, who came down with appendicitis while visiting her family there. Jack volunteered to share the driving, and that’s how he first arrived in New York. According to the Teagarden biography by Howard Waters—a very detailed study published by Walter C. Allen who later wrote the amazing Fletcher Henderson book Hendersonia—there were two cars, one with Ross and Elliott, and one with Jack and three other band members. (I always put information from the Waters book in boldface.) But Jack clearly remembers sharing the driving duties only with Elliott.

But we will have to wait for more New York stories, because at Smith’s request, Jack now goes back to fill in some missing details, largely centered around trumpeter Joe “Wingy” Manone (1900-1982; birth spelling was Mannone). Here is a photo of Wingy and Jack from the late 1920s:

Manone was a flamboyant figure, something of a comedian, and a strong, Armstrong-inspired trumpeter who also sang. He played very much like Louis but didn’t have the high range. Here are two lesser-known examples of his trumpet playing from 1934, both issued on an out-of-print Mosaic Records boxed set of Manone and Louis Prima recordings: The first is from the alternate take (that is, never issued on 78 rpm) of “No Calling Card,” the second from the alternate of “Easy Like”:

In the first interview segment below, Jack talks more about traveling with Manone in the band of Doc Ross in and around Wichita Falls, Texas. Jack tells how Manone lost his arm when he was hit by a streetcar (aka trolley) as a 13-month old baby. That’s how he earned the nickname “Wingy”—perhaps not in the best of taste, but a name used over the years for people who lost an arm, such as the Black baseball pitcher “Wing” Maddox. By Manone’s own account he was ten years old, which might make more sense, since it’s hard to imagine a baby being out on the trolley tracks.

At 2:45, we learn that Wingy liked to cheat at cards, and when Ross caught him cheating he was fired from the band. Wingy ended up in a band at the Somerset Club (Jack calls it an Inn) near San Antonio. Pianist Terry Shand wired Jack that Wingy had been fired again, and Terry hired them both for his own band. Jack roomed with Wingy, and clarinetist Sidney Arodin was in the group too. But at 4:45 Jack informs us that Wingy also had a job in the gambling room as a shill, that is, pretending to be a customer. Jack said Wingy had a dog that he loved but it wasn’t housebroken and as a result he and Wingy had to move. At 7:30 the gigs with Shand ended and Jack joined Gilbert O'Shaughnessy, a clarinetist and saxophonist who later recorded with Jimmy Joy. Years later they went to Mexico City together, and Jack’s second son Gilbert is named after him. (Waters says they had been to Mexico City in 1924 as members of The Southern Trumpeters.)

While touring with Wingy—Teagarden biographer Howard Waters says in February or March 1927—Jack drove his Stanley Steamer, a steam-powered automobile, to Oklahoma City, where it broke down. At 9:45, he tells us that he gave the car to his brother Charlie (later known as an excellent trumpeter), figuring that it was worth something and could be repaired. Charlie tried to sell it through a news ad, but the people who came to “check it out” never came back—they stole it. At this point Jack rejoined Doc Ross, and later got in a Cadillac with the pianist from Doc Ross’s band to drive to N.Y.C., as he discussed at the end of Part Three.

In the next segment, Jack talks more about Wingy. He recalls that at the Arcadia Ballroom in St Louis, Wingy’s band alternated with Frank Trumbauer and Bix Beiderbecke. Jack tells an interesting story about Wingy picking up a movie camera that someone left at a private party, thinking that he’d look for the owner to return it. Instead, Wingy was arrested for possessing compromising films, and a senator had to help him out. Jumping ahead to early 1928, at 3:18 Jack recalls that Wingy didn’t read music but claimed that he was learning how, so Jack recommended Wingy to join him in Billy Lustig’s band in New York. However, it turned out that Wingy still couldn’t read.

At 5:00, Jack notes that Bing Crosby used Wingy in a film. (This was Rhythm on the River in 1940. Jack believed that there were other films but that appears to be wrong.) So Wingy assumed that he’d be in the 1941 film with Crosby, Birth of the Blues, and was angry to learn that he wasn’t. At 9:20, Jack notes that the Lustig band was alternating with Fletcher Henderson’s at the Roseland Ballroom in Manhattan. This was from mid-February through April 1928. It was not unusual for a white and a Black band to take turns on Roseland’s stages. This was where Jack first met fellow trombonist Jimmy Harrison, and he was amazed that they both played in “the same style.” (This is commonly said, but there is plenty of recorded evidence and in my judgement their styles are not really similar. More on that another time.) During their first week at Roseland, Bix was brought up by a mutual friend but he only watched and then left. Bix and Jack became friends later. Here is this segment:

Finally, to end this installment, Jack goes all the way back to his years with legendary pianist Peck Kelley, whose recordings we heard last time. Kelley wasn’t performing during the summer of 1923, so Jack went near Wichita Falls to help his uncle drill a “wildcat” oil well—that is, to drill in the hope of finding a new oil source. While there, he sat in with a band in Wichita Falls and they liked him so much that they asked him to lead the six-person group, which was called The Southern Trumpeters. Although Smith asks several questions, the name of the group is never really explained. According to the Teagarden biography by Howard Waters, the name came from their booking agent, and Jack led this group from around September 1923 through July 1924. And it was while leading that same group in Dallas that he met his wife, the telephone operator. As I reported last time, she was Ora “Dee” Binyon, and they were married on April 7, 1924, in San Angelo, Texas. Here is a photo of the band in Wichita Falls in late 1923, from the Waters book. Jack is standing:

Jack and Terry Shand got an offer to join Herbert Berger in St. Louis so they went there with their wives. But the union wouldn’t allow them to perform because they weren’t local members. Still, they hung around the union hall and made about $10 a day playing pool. At 5:45, Jack says Terry got a job, but then they both received an offer to join Johnny Youngberg’s group. That band gigged in Shreveport, Louisiana, and Jack’s memory is that his son was born while he was there, so he missed the birth but got home to San Angelo a day or two later. But Jack, Jr., was born on December 5, 1925, and according to Waters, the Shreveport gig was in the summer of 1925, and Jack was back with Doc Ross from about October 1925 through most of 1926. Probably Jack did miss the birth but was away in a different city, not Shreveport.

In any case, after Shreveport, the Youngberg band played at the now-historic Peabody Hotel in Memphis, which was newly reopened in September 1925. At 7:45, Jack quickly reviews his itinerary from then on: In early 1926 he went to California with Doc Ross as already discussed, then to El Paso (Waters says El Paso was first), then San Antonio. At one point Wingy joined, and then got fired. Here is a photo of Jack and Wingy—on the left—with the Ross band in El Paso, from the Waters book:

Jack gigged with Wingy for a while, he gave the Stanley Steamer to Charlie while gigging in Oklahoma City, and then he left for N.Y.C. (Waters says they left from Houston.) At 10:40, Jack tells stories about a pianist named Brooks. (I can’t make out the last name—something like “Print.”) Brooks used to fight violently, and eventually he got killed. Okay, here is the last segment for today:

Much more to come!

All the best,

Lewis