squared her shoulders, readying herself for whatever audience might await us.
The Barry Gray Show
WMCA Radio
Guest: Benny Lament
December 30, 1969
“You’ve been on the country charts, the R&B charts, and the pop charts all at the same time,” Barry Gray says.
“Sometimes with the very same song,” Benny Lament says. “Our music crossed genres, so it attracted a wide audience. We didn’t just look different, we sounded different. When Minefield broke onto the scene, we had ‘The Bomb Johnson,’ which was a narrative song, ‘Itty Bitty,’ which was rockabilly, and ‘Any Man,’ which was rhythm and blues. ‘Beware’ sounded like a jazz standard.”
“The charts were one thing. But performing on stage, in front of an audience, was a different ballgame. Last year, 1968, on the popular program Star Trek, a white man kissed a black woman on American television. And it was also last year that Petula Clark, the white, British singer, touched Harry Belafonte’s arm on live television which made international news. There were stories in Time magazine and Newsweek.”
“It sells,” Benny says.
“What does?”
“Controversy. Trouble. People can be ugly, no doubt. But newspapers and television and magazines don’t always expose the truth. I think the truth is that most people don’t care that a white man kissed a black woman, or vice versa. But the magazines claim everyone is all upset about it. One person in a hundred or a thousand might be upset about it. The upset gets all the attention because it sells.”
“All of that is true. But you dealt with your fair share of upset. You and Esther never touched on stage. You bantered. You argued. For the most part, you sat at the piano and she stood at the microphone.”
“The event coordinators were always nervous, especially after we were arrested in Pittsburgh. It was understood that I would stay at the piano and Esther would keep her distance. We were constantly lectured not to incite the crowd.”
“How do you avoid it when just your presence together sets some people off?”
“You can’t. I think it was Rosa Parks who said every movement has a face. That’s been the hardest thing for me. I never wanted that kind of attention, and I’ve never had a particularly pretty face,” Benny says.
“Well . . . that’s why some of us do radio,” Barry Gray quips, self-deprecating.
“Or play piano.” Benny laughs.
“If not the right face . . . are you the right voice for the movement?” Barry asks.
“There are a lot of great voices out there. A lot of powerful voices,” Benny says. “A movement might unite behind a face, but it needs every voice.”
“There weren’t many people doing what you two did,” Barry Gray argues. “I can’t think of any. Not singing together. Not sharing the stage.”
17
BUT I DO
Bat Blumenthal’s plan to control the press had worked beautifully. Only Alvin, Money, and Lee Otis waited in the back lot.
Lee Otis ran into Esther’s arms, and she embraced him quickly before releasing him and herding us all toward the car. We climbed in without speaking. I knew the fight that was taking place underneath her stony façade and her ramrod spine. She didn’t want to break. I didn’t want to break either. But the break was coming. Bubbling in my chest. I backed out of the dingy lot and put Pittsburgh in the rearview mirror. Money broke the silence when we reached the city limits.
“You two need to cool it,” Money complained from the back seat. “It’s one thing for us to be an act—God knows people aren’t even ready for that—but you start being flirtatious . . . carrying on like you do . . . and you’re just asking for trouble.”
“You know how change happens, Money?” Esther said, not even turning her head. But her eyes were fierce.
“How does it happen, Esther?” He sighed.
“You show people what it looks like. We’re showing people what it looks like for whites and coloreds to be together. Even if it’s just together on stage.”
“Is that what you are? Are you together? ’Cause if you two are together, where does that leave us? They ran us right out of town. We waited in this car all night, scared to death. You think that was bad? It’s just gonna get worse. Someone is going to get hurt. Someone is going to get killed.”
“I’m going to need you to shut up, Money,” I said. I didn’t yell. I didn’t curse, but I would kill him if he said another word. And maybe he knew it, because silence