At the end of September, I posted on guitarist Jimmy Gourley. In that post I wrote about Gourley's friend, a Chicago guitarist named Ronnie Singer. According to those who heard Singer live, he was on par with Jimmy Raney. Whether that's true or not is beside the point. Let's just say Singer was exceptional. [Photo above of Ronnie Singer on guitar with an unknown group of musicians, courtesy of Joyce Singer-Glantz]
Born June 9, 1928, Singer played bebop in Chicago in the late-1940s. Singer, like a significant number of jazz musicians at the time, became addicted to heroin for reasons we'll never know. In 1951, he married a woman named Jeanie, who provided hope. Sadly, she, too, became an addict.
They were both in New York in December 1953 so Ronnie could play with the Artie Shaw Orchestra at the Hotel Lincoln's Blue Room. For whatever reason, they both committed suicide by overdosing in a room at the Colborne Hotel in Greenwich Village.
There are audio samples online that claim to be Ronnie Singer playing guitar (go here), but, sadly, no albums were ever recorded. All that was left when Singer died was the legend and the word of other musicians.
I did manage to track down Ronnie Singer's sister, Joyce. Now in her 80s, she is as sweet as can be. She still misses her brother terribly, having been robbed of a lifetime of joy with him by an addiction that was completely avoidable. I had a chance in past weeks to interview her by email. Here is our back and forth...
JazzWax: Where did you and Ronnie grow up?
Joyce Singer-Glantz: Ronnie and I grew up in a northern suburb of Chicago that at the time was known as Norwood Park Township. It was very close to where O’Hare International Airport is now. Back then, in the late 1930s, O’Hare was all dandelion fields. I’d ride my bike there to pick the yellow flowers and make bouquets for our dining room table. Ronnie would make sure my bike was in tip-top shape, checking the tires, especially. He was a loving brother.
JW: Were your parents musical?
JS-G: Our father played the saxophone, primarily, and our grandfather had a music store. We had many instruments in our living room, as well as records and sheet music—a collection our father added to consistently. Our mother loved singing and dancing. They had met at Chicago’s Aragon Ballroom, singing and dancing their way to a happy marriage with two children.
JW: What did your parents do for a living?
JS-G: Our father, Ed, was a master salesman for many companies. Being very friendly and caring, he had a wide range of customers who would deal with no one else. Our mother, Lee, was the epitome of a homemaker. She was a fabulous cook, our home was beautiful, and she was especially loved by all her nieces and nephews. Everyone went to her for a hug when needed.
JW: Did your parents encourage Ronnie's interest in music?
JS-G: My parents were more than encouraging—they were always involved in his music. We even made music together as a family. Our home recordings—there were many—were some or all of us singing pop tunes. There also was a lot of joke-telling. Of course, most of the tapes were Ronnie alone or with our father. We had wire and tape recorders with stacks of empty disks waiting to be cut by the four of us. Unfortunately, time took its toll. Those recordings we made at home were found in 2020 stuck together or cracked. So sad.
JW: When did Ronnie become interested in playing guitar?
JS-G: When he picked one up in our living room. We had had a bass in there, a xylophone, a marimba, a Hawaiian guitar among other guitars, an accordion, and many other instruments. Ronnie played many of them, as did our father. Ronnie took guitar lessons from a small music store that was within walking distance of our house. He also played with school bands.
JW: How about listening to records?
JS-G: We had no end to commercial recordings. They were primarily 78s of the artists of the day, like the Ink Spots, the Andrew Sisters, Danny Kaye and Spike Jones. There was a wide variety. Ronnie also loved Tchaikovsky, Liszt and other classics. Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite was high on his list of favorites.
JW: Was Ronnie's career put on hold during World War II?
JS-G: When the war came along in 1941, Ronnie and our dad led the way in our community of first-generation Germans participating in the war effort. They played together in the many patriotic-type bands of the day. They were in parades, played gigs at halls both large and small, community and private, and they volunteered and organized patriotic events at schools and community groups such as the Rotary Club and Shriners.
JW: What did Ronnie do during those years?
JS-G: Although many of Ronnie’s musical peers enlisted, primarily so they’d have an opportunity to continue playing in military dance bands, he was too sensitive to hold a gun. By the mid-1940s, he was listening to records by Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker, and by age of 17 he was deeply involved in bebop.
JW: Did you have career ambitions?
JS-G: I was six years younger than Ronnie, therefore still in a child’s world. I adored my brother and was in awe of his big world in Chicago. It was mystifying to me. I was a good student, as was Ronnie until he reached the age where classrooms bored him. He was a self-learner, reading novels by Russian authors and Lebanese writer Kahlil Gibran. Slow-moving school studies were less important to him. After finishing high school, he didn’t want to go to college. He was totally immersed in his music.
JW: Who did Ronnie play with in his "big world" in Chicago?
JS-G: I could give you a lengthy list of the music greats that Ronnie knew and played with. I learned about this from his few remaining colleagues who are now in their 90s. Until I met them—in particular Irv Rochlin, who also used the surname “Craig”— I’d never heard of guitarists Jimmy Raney and Jimmy Gourley. While researching Ronnie in later years, I discovered an impressive list of musicians and singers and actors who were a part of his world. [Photo above of Ronnie Singer on guitar (behind vibes) courtesy of Joyce Singer-Glantz]
JW: What did you think of Ronnie's wife, Jeanie?
JS-G: To my youthful eyes, Jeanie was a fairy princess. She was the most beautiful girl I ever saw. They married in Chicago. I saw them together only twice, both times as a quiet, soft-spoken couple very much in love. She had the sweetest demeanor, and I was so proud to have her in our family.
JW: When did Ronnie fall in with the wrong crowd?
JS-G: The so-called “wrong crowd” was the only right crowd for Ronnie, as fate would have it. There were no bad habits at home, save for our dad, who loved his pipes and cigars. I never heard a swear word or extreme anger expressed in our home. We spoke with regard to each other’s feelings. We were a warm, considerate family with many friends and close relatives. This may sound odd to those in today’s world, but that’s who we were back then.
JW: So Ronnie was at the mercy of those he was playing with?
JS-G: Irv and Ira Sullivan, great musicians and friends of Ronnie’s, both told me he was out of place in many of the clubs where they played. He was well-liked and had a good sense of humor, but he never quite fit into the “wrong crowd” scene. He must have known this. When he and Jeanie began dating, he didn’t want her to be at his nighttime gigs because, according to what they told me, he was protecting her from the bad elements around him.
JW: How did they become heroin addicts?
JS-G: He was enamored by the way of the world of jazz musicians. Charlie Parker didn’t force him to take drugs, but they played together often when Charlie was at clubs in Chicago. That’s just how it was for all the musicians when they got together. Charlie and Ronnie had mutual respect for each other when they played.
JW: So was there group pressure?
JS-G: I wouldn’t know if Ronnie had been pressured into trying narcotics or if he was trying to fit in or was told he’d play better if he used heroin. I just know that heroin then was a big part of that environment in that era. It seemed to allow musicians to become less self-conscious and less uptight. We now know the cost, and I suppose they knew the cost then. For years, I hated Charlie Parker for putting my sensitive brother in such jeopardy. Ronnie was one of the youngest Chicago bebop players, making him even more susceptible to Bird’s influence.
JW: What did you think of Clint Eastwood’s portrayal of Parker in Bird?
JS-G: In recent years I made it a point to see the movie and at this time in my life, I saw the light. If the two of them played together and appreciated each other, how could have things have turned out differently? In the movie, Bird is shown in despair at having inadvertently affected the lives of so many young musicians who looked up to him for his talent. I now put him in the same sad spot in my heart that I have for my brother.
JW: Did Ronnie try to get clean?
JS-G: Twice Ronnie tried to break away from drugs by voluntarily checking in to the U.S. Narcotic Farm in Lexington, Ky. Twice he returned to his past life. Ira told me how Ronnie hated the life of drugs. He had come from a lovely home and was raised with good solid moral standards. Perhaps this is why his fellow musicians thought of him as not quite belonging to the nightclub scene.
JW: How did your brother wind up in New York committing suicide with his wife?
JS-G: At the time, in 1953, Ronnie was heading to New York to meet Jeanie and play with the Artie Shaw Orchestra at the Hotel Lincoln's Blue Room on Eighth Avenue between 44th and 45th Streets. On the road from Chicago, Ronnie made a stop at Jeanie’s parents’ Pennsylvania home, where her mother greeted him warmly with a hug and a meal. There was no sign of emotional trouble brewing. I believe once they were in New York, the addiction overcame them and they chose the only way out of the drug scene together. [Photo above of Artie Shaw at the Hotel Lincoln's Blue Room in 1939]
JW: How did you find out what happened?
JS-G: The news was picked up by many newspapers. It was a shocking story. This wasn’t another musician overdose. It seemed to be planned by both of them and clearly they were despondent or depressed to the point that suicide was the only way to end the cycle. The news was very difficult for me to digest, needless to say. Obviously, I’ve never gotten over it.
JW: Why wasn't Ronnie recorded commercially?
JS-G: I have no idea. Perhaps being soft-spoken held him back. Or perhaps he didn't fully appreciate his ability enough to push for that. As a sister, I could never imagine him being self-centered in any way. To sum it up, my mother used to tell me regarding Ronnie's genius, "It’s not good to be so smart.”
JW: Your parents must have been devastated, yes?
JS-G: Beyond. They were shattered. Our Dad passed away in his mid-40s, as did his three brothers, all at the same age, of heart attacks. Our mother passed away at age 99. Luckily she had a large family as a support system. They all came through for us. [Photo above of Lee Singer, courtesy of Joyce Singer-Glantz]
JW: Do you have Ronnie’s personal effects?
JS-G: Ronnie had very few material items when he passed. What I have is his guitar and sheet music, primarily written in his own hand. What I especially treasure are the two books he bought for me. One was entitled The Little Possum That Didn’t, a children’s book. I’ve always kept it. The other was a book of Kahlil Gibran’s poetry, which I loved. I also saved that. As for audio, all we have so far are the clips you can hear at his tribute site. I’ve been fortunate to find the few you see and hear there. I did find some sheet music that he composed. For these I’m very grateful.
