The passing of Aretha Franklin has deservedly brought forth a torrent of tributes and stories about this bigger than life figure. I love music and many singers across several genres, but Aretha was my all-time favorite. Since I have followed her since she was a teenager, I feel a need to offer some personal reflections.
The transition of our dear Aretha is the demise of a significant part of African Americana. She was the embodiment of much of the cultural heritage of black America.
Yes, she was an icon, but not singularly so. She was from an iconic place and time. She was born in Memphis, and she grew up in the Franklin household at the time Louis Jordan’s innovation–rhythm and blues–was merging with Reverend C. A. Tindley’s and Thomas A. Dorsey’s creations—the gospel hymn and gospel music—to create soul music.
Aretha’s father, Rev. C. L. Franklin, was the most famous minister in black America before Martin Luther King. And he was the favorite of hundreds of thousands of us, including MLK.
There was a saying that there were only two types of black Baptist ministers, those who tried to preach like C.L. Franklin, and those who tried to demonstrate that they were not trying to be C.L.
Reverend Franklin lived life broadly and was in constant contact with all segments of African American life. His large house was a crossroads of black America. Frequent and sometimes long-term visitors included a hall of fame of the gospel world–Clara Ward, Mahalia Jackson, and James Cleveland.
Visitors and friends also included Dinah Washington, Dorothy Dandridge, Ruth Brown, and Sam Cooke; jazz artists Lionel Hampton, Sarah Vaughn, Oscar Peterson, Nat “King” Cole, and Arthur Prysock; and blues artists like BB King and BB’s blues idol, T-Bone Walker. C. L. socialized with T-Bone Walker and once had him and his wife as guests at the head table at the banquet celebrating his 11th anniversary as pastor of New Bethel in Detroit.
Political figures also came by. And civil rights figures like Martin Luther King. In 1963, two months before the March on Washington, Reverend Franklin organized a march in Detroit that featured Martin Luther King. It drew over 125,000 participants.
From this cauldron of African American culture Aretha exploded forth as a gospel singer equal to any of her more seasoned friends and tutors. An album recorded when she was 16 demonstrates that fact.
In 1960, Aretha turned to secular music and signed with Columbia Records. This did not work, as Columbia kept trying to put Aretha in boxes that did not fit very well. The singing was okay, but it left many of us waiting on Aretha to become what many had predicted–the next queen of blues/soul after the great Dinah Washington. Columbia kept trying to put Aretha in boxes she did not fit too well, and she kept trying to break out. The singing was okay, but not a new queen of soul.
In 1961, when she was 19, I saw Aretha at the Howard Theater in Washington, DC, and was embarrassed for her. She was playing the piano and singing in the style similar to which we are now accustomed—loud and forceful—something the audience was not prepared for, and they gave her a virtual cold shoulder. At that time black women rhythm and blues singers did not “shout” their songs. Later Aretha freed them to do so, and R&B was changed forever.
Jerry Wexler of Atlantic Records was the answer to our wishes for Aretha. In 1949, as a writer for Downbeat magazine, Wexler coined the term “Rhythm & Blues” for what before then was called “race music.”
Wexler is sometimes called the father of rhythm and blues because he started the R&B section for Atlantic Records, which became the leading producer of R&B music and the beginning of soul music, with Ray Charles heading
