Mark Hannon was one of my dearest friends and was one of my musical
mentors
when I was a young musician starting out. I'll never forget the time
when Mark's
younger brother Phillip brought me to Mark's apartment in Evanston to
jam with him. Phillip was so proud to bring us together. I had met Mark
a few times at the Hannon family house in Glencoe, but to many of us
'younger' guys, Mark was this cult hero/icon because he had recorded at
Chess Records with his band, The Durty Wurds. I was quite nervous,
because I was just starting out, but Mark couldn't have been more
gracious and encouraging. He really liked my playing, and it was the
beginning of a long and deep friendship. I ended up playing in The Mark
Hannon Blues Band a few years later, and then lived with Mark for a
couple of years in a house in Northfield, Illinois that became known as
'jam-party central'...We had all night jam sessions there, with the likes of
Fred Anderson, Billy Brimfield, Felix Blackmon, Ahmed Drake, Terry
Dickerson, Bobby Wolf and many others.
Mark was born in Pittsburg, PA on December 3, 1947. The Hannon family
moved to Glencoe a few years later. Mark was always somewhat of a rebel,
and one of the first guys to sport long hair back in the early 60's. He
was already a celebrity in high school, and once he started playing
music seriously, he became one of those people that inspired others. The
entire Hannon household was a trip, with patriarch Eugene running the
show. There was always music in the house, whether it be Gene turning us
kids on to "Sing, Sing, Sing" or Barb and Amy singing some folk song in
the living room with impeccable harmony. Phillip and I were great
friends, and it was he who turned me onto a lot of the soul music and
blues that would become a part of my musical growth in the future. Much
of this music came out of Mark's infamous record collection. Phillip
died tragically in a fall from a building in 1975.
In the late 60's, Mark found his way to the west side of Chicago and
worked his way on stage with Magic Sam. Shortly thereafter, both Mark
and I were playing with Lefty Dizz (Walter Williams) in blues clubs
mostly on the southside (Checkerboard, Theresa's, Florence's, Mr. Z's,
Pepper's). Mark formed his own band after that, and started being known
as Mark Hannon...The Blues Cannon!
Mark worked a lot of the northside clubs with his band, and when I was in
the group we had a regular weekly gig at the old Kingston Mines on
Lincoln. Tuesday nights in the early to mid-seventies found the band at
Minstrel's by Loyola, where manager Ron would be looking for Hannon on
his break, yelling in his graveley voice, "Where's Hannon? He's been on
break for an hour, damnit!"...
Mark met and fell in love with Jane in the 80's and they had two
beautiful daughters, Katey and Nicki. Mark was a great father and was so
proud of his girls. I remember he would bring them to some of the music
parties in the old days, and he just glowed as he introduced the girls
to his many friends.
Somewhere along the line, Mark hooked up with Bob Levis and Harlan
Terson, two very talented musicians and he stuck with that line-up for
most of his career. Bob on guitar and Harlan on bass, were veterans of
the Otis Rush band, and brought stability and an authenticity that was
timed perfectly with Mark's renewed dedication to his craft. Mark's
vocals were becoming stronger and his phrasing and delivery smoother and
full of feeling. His harp playing also evolved into his own trademark
style, with tight and melodic solos and perfect little punctuations. All
the big Chicago blues stars were friends with Mark. He was highly
respected as a talent and as a spokesperson for the blues. The last time
I played with Mark, other than at his benefit, Dave Specter was on
Guitar, Harlan on bass, and a great player whose name I can't remember
on drums. It was at Bar Louie at Dearborn Station (coincidentally, this
is where the "Blues Power" benefit was staged for Mark when he fell
ill), and I hadn't played with him for awhile. During this period, I
wasn't playing out a lot, and I lived 50 miles from downtown. Mark was in
great form, with great players, and I'll never forget the fun we had
playing the old songs, like "Unchain My Heart", and "I Don't Want No
Woman", and "Chickenheads". He always seemed to be eager to play with me
again, and always made me feel welcome on his stage, perhaps not
realizing that I felt I was the lucky one. Looking back on that night, I
was able to enjoy the man in the setting he loved most, onstage
singing...playin his ass off, talkin to the people, telling jokes...and
making people feel good.
Over the years, one could find Mark
working as a duet with Kenny Saydak, which was fun as Hell, because
these two together were like a comedy team. They were as good with the
on-stage banter as they were at laying down excellent music!
When Mark got sick the first time, I hadn't been keeping in very good
touch with him, and in fact wasn't involved in the fund raiser at
Legend's, although I attended. After his surgery, where he lost one
lung, Mark once again amazed everyone by not only making a great
recovery...but also found a way to (in my opinion) improve his vocal
presentation. Somehow he managed to teach his body to sing with 1'2 the
wind, and maybe because he was so damn determined, he worked his ass off
and found a new range and a his vocals had a new conviction. Everyone
was devastated to learn that Mark's cancer reared his head again, and
a lot of us were so hopeful, because he beat the odds before. As I look
back over my life and accomplishments, nothing comes close to my good
fortune at being 'appointed' to organize a benefit for Mark in 2000. I
suppose I was a logical choice, as I was working at Leo Burnett at the
time, and this benefit needed promotional help. The collective of Mark
and Jane's friends, however, was the key to the success of the event.
Once I put the wheels in motion, people from all over Chicago and the US
started helping build the program. People like Dave Hoekstra, Eddy
Clearwater, Jimmy Johnson, Buzz Kilman, Dave Specter, Bruce Illig, Roger
Greenfield, Albert Goodman, Jim Tulio, Dave Grier, Harlan Terson, and of
course Ken Saydak. There are so many others that contributed in so many
different ways, but I mention the ones that are 'well known' to
illustrate how much of a start Mark was in his own right. He was loved
by so many, and his loss left a big hole in the heart of Chicago. The
swell of love at the benefit was overwhelming, and a lot of money was
raised to help the Hannon family cope with all the medical expenses. It
was something that I look back on with sadness, of course, but also with
love and pride. I was the lucky one, because I was able to be near the
man as he basked in all that affection, all that respect and all that
love.
When Mark died, I made a vow to start playing out again, only this time
as a singer/guitarist...playing the old Hannon tunes and keeping the
flame alive.
We play many of the old songs in my band now, and some of Mark's old
friends come out and listen. Somehow, by remembering him, my life has
more meaning, and it makes me feel good every time I kick off one of
those songs. I remember....
Above: Mark singing with Jimmy Johnson at
the benefit
Mark and Jimmy sing "You Got Me Runnin"....
Harlan Terson
One of my favorite Hannon pics...here he's standing in a cardboard
box because the ground was wet....(jam party at my house in Highland
Park '79 or so)
Eddy Clearwater plays at the benefit
Steve Freund, Hannon, Robert Covington & Bob Stroger
Above: Dave Specter, Harlan Terson, Mark
and myself at Bar Louie
Above: Mark encouraging me at Bar Louie
Above: Myself, Billy Ferrick, Terry
Dickerson, Mark and Harlan at Southside Johnny's
Above: Mark at my wedding in 1975
Above: Hambone, Bruce Illig, Mark Skyer,
Mark, Dave Thorton, George Healy at Chicagofest
Above: Mark making his point at an unknown
party
Above: Mark, Tim Foreman and I at one of my
backyard jams, circa '79 or so
Above: Mark & I outside the infamous
'Northbrook House' where we lived together. This photo was probably
taken around '73-'74
I took the above video at the first benefit for Mark, during his
first cancer fight.
This video was taken at 'Williamsfest', a big music extravaganza I
used to throw in my backyard. I wish I could remember all the players.
Ken Sadak is on keys, Bruce Illig on guitar, Betsy singin', and I'm on
guitar. If anyone recognizes the bass and drum guys, let me know.
The above video was taken at The Kingston Mines in 1976 by Albert
Goodman. Mark and the band play their own arrangement of "Unchain My
Heart".
Same gig...the band plays, "I've Been Working"...
And finally, "Go To Pieces"...
The above four
videos were shot by Albert Goodman, who had a knack for being in
the right place at the right time with his video camera. His video
footage of Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock was heralded as a great piece of
music history.
Mark
Ferrick
9-15-54 to 10-3-91
I first met Mark in 1968, when we were both young musicians looking for
new people to play with. Kirk Moulton might have introduced us. I made
friends
with Kirk when my family moved to the area in '67, and he connected me
with
many friends. I first played with Mark at a jam at his family house in
Glencoe. The
Ferrick's had a Steinway grand piano in their living room, so that was
the obvious place to stage a jam session. The Ferrick parents were out
of town quite a bit, so this became a regular spot for weekend jams and
parties. I connected with Mark right away, even though he had a
reputation of someone difficult to get close to. Mark had a knack for
knowing exactly what he wanted during these sessions, and if the other
musicians didn't know the parts, Mark would show them on their
instruments, because he played guitar, bass and keyboards quite well. In
fact, he could play guitar either right handed or left handed, and could
play left handed either with a guitar re-strung for lefties, or by
flipping the guitar upside down. He prefer playing a left handed guitar,
and had an old acoustic strung lefty that he played all the time. His
main instrument was piano, and of course he was 'the singer'....I have an
old tape I made years later at a jam at my house that featured brothers
Mark and Bill Ferrick and brothers Bruce and Dave Williams. Tim Foreman
was on drums. Mark played bass when my brother switched to guitar, and
piano when his brother switched to harp. Of course, he sang all the
songs the whole while. He also played guitar on a couple of numbers...a
right handed guitar! Well, Mark and I hit it off after that first jam,
and before long I was trying to keep up with him as his passion for
music found us at jams all over the area. Just ask Norris Beetlebaum!
Within a few months, he had talked me into starting a band with him. For
me, this would be my 'first band', and we were doing some Traffic, some
Beatles, alot of Stones, and some blues. I remember so well that it was
Mark that showed me how to play a 9th chord on the guitar. My roots were
in folkier stuff, or the acid rock of my native California. I was just
starting to appreciate blues and my chords were limited. Mark had the
arrangements in his head and would tell the rest of the band what to
play. We were all young farts with very little experience, but Ferrick
knew what the music needed and soon we sounded pretty damn good! Mark
and I also hung out together all the time and chased girls and did all
kinds of crazy things. I'll never forget, after a summer of acid
tripping and over indulging, Mark suddenly 'went straight', stopped
abusing substances and started working out. He had this idea he wanted
to make the high school football team. I know he had his eye on
quarterback. He even talked me into becoming his 'sparring partner', as
he would have me come over and throw passes to me for hours. He actually
taught me how to throw a football. I didn't know squat about footbal
until I went to the Ferricks' one Sunday back in '68 and saw what a
friggin ritual this family went through on a football Sunday. If Mark
couldn't find a sucker like me to run down his passes, he would take his
little sister and brother, Marnie and Johnny out in the backyard and
wing a few to them. Soon, his body became muscular, his stride changed
to a strut...and my pal was...a friggin JOCK!! I can't remember all the
details, but he did make the team and played for New Trier West. The
music never stopped through this, however, and we played together alot
as a twosome, and as a band. Mark started writing music during this
period, and having dreams of making it in music. After high school, Mark
ended up at Boston College where he got his BA. During this time he got
a gig at a piano bar and really got into the whole entertainment thing.
When he came home to visit, we would get together and play like old
times. After he graduated, he wanted to put a demo together of some of
his songs, so he recruited me to help him. His little brother Jim had by
now become a very good drummer, and with help from Chip Trendle on
guitar, we started rehearsing. We cut the demo at StudioMedia in
Evanston. Mark did all the vocals and harmonies and played all the
keyboard and bass guitar tracks. Believe me, he had it all mapped out.
The session was great and Mark's songs sounded outstanding. Mark used
this demo to advance his music career, and one of my favorite musical
moments in my life was when Mark called me from London a few years later
and asked me if it would be alright if his new guitarist, Ian, played my
guitar solo note-for-note in his new updated demo. I think he was
referring to his song, "The Night Is Alright", one of my favorites.
Yep, Mark ended up in London with his little brother Jim on drums, in a
band with a recording contract with Epic Records. The story takes a
rather tragic turn here. I was always very close to the Ferrick family,
Mark was the best man at my wedding, he was the Godfather to my son
Robert, and we socialized with the entire family. When Mark's little
brother Jimmy became an outstanding drummer in 68-69, Mark brought him
into our band, and I watched him grow quickly into a formidable
percussionist. He was a natural drummer, with an instinct for time and
he somehow put up with Mark's demanding regimen. After Mark went to
London and had started getting interest from the record companies, he
asked Jimmy to come join him. This cause some controversy in the Ferrick
household, as the parents wanted Jimmy to finish college. Jim came to
see my wife Mary and I one night, as he wanted our advice to help him
make his decision. After a lot of discussion, I ended up telling him that
if it was me, I'd go to London, as these opportunities don't come up
often in life, and he should give it a shot. If it doesn't work out, I
told him, you can always come home and finish school. So Jim decides to
do it and goes to London. Epic Records has signed Mark, provided him
with a recording budget and a place in the country outside of London to
live and rehearse. The brothers and their Englishmen sidekicks began
rehearsing, recording and getting ready for their debut. Then the
tragedy...Jim takes out one of the motorbikes early one morning and
crashes and is dead a few hours later. Of course, Mark feels
responsible. After the funeral Mark musters up the courage to return to
England and attempt to salvage his band, "Thirteen", which was on the
verge of releasing it's first single, "Teddy Boy". The single is
released in Sweden only, becomes a cult favorite, but Thirteen falls
apart. Mark moves back to US
near his older brother Bill, also a very talented musician. They do some
projects together, Mark continues his quest to break through in the
music business. I wasn't talking to Mark as often as usual at the end.
It came as such a shock when I heard. When I lost him, I decided to try
and honor him by pushing myself harder with my writing, to learn more
piano, to write ballads like he did, to sing my heart out like he
did....
Here's the outer jacket from the Thirteen single,
which was released in Europe
Ahmed Drake introduced me to Tony in about 1968. Ahmed took me to a jam
in
Evanston and I met a bunch of great musicians. The most impressive was
Tony, with his big voice and fluid keyboard chops. He also knew all the
cool songs and was good
at getting the music going. I ran into him many times over the years,
mostly at jams, and then in the early eighties, my old music buddy Terry
Dickerson called me and
asked if I wanted to play guitar in his band, "Hot Ice". I needed the
work and these guys were gigging a lot, so I took it. Tony was playing
keyboard and singing in the band at the time, which convinced me. Hot
Ice was doing a lot of dance music, funk and pop material, and I was
really more comfortable playing blues, but with Tony there, I knew it
would be a good experience. I wasn't doing much singing up to that time,
but Tony thought I had a good voice and encouraged me to sing back up
vocals, and worked with me on the harmonies. Over time, I became pretty
decent, and even had the confidence to sing a few songs on my own. After
a year or so, Tony developed a problem with nodes in his throat, and had
to cut way back on his singing. Terry talked me into taking about 30% of
Tony's songs to help out. With Tony's help, I made the jump from back up
vocalist to a fairly good lead vocalist. He taught me so much about
singing and projecting. He had some incredible pipes on him. I ended up
quitting the band after a year and a half or so, mainly due to conflicts
with a day job I had.
My next experience with Tony was a few years later in the mid-eighties,
and I owned a successful ad agency. I got a DUI and my license was
revoked. I had to get around, and I knew Tony could use the money, so I
hired him as my driver. We were everywhere from Milwaukee to Elgin to
Elkhart, Indiana. This went on for over 6 months, so I got to know Tony
very well. During this period, I put on probably 25 pounds, because Tony
would stop at Wendy's or a chicken joint constantly.
I had a pool table in the office, so we also played many games together.
It was only
natural that we ended up starting a band together, a band that he
named..."The Hava Bros." which he coined in reference to the noises our
guitar player Bob Wolf, and our bass man, Steve Jennings made when they
were playing. We did some gigs, parties, recorded some. A funny "Tony"
story...One night we were at my place recording and it was late, and
Tony was hungry. He decided to nuke a hard boiled egg, which none of us
had ever done. He put it in there for a few minutes, and then took it
out and peeled it. It remained intact throughout the peeling process,
but when he bit into it, it exploded all over the place! You should have
seen the look on Tony's face. He burnt his lip a little, too, but
nothing serious. We joked around a lot, but Tony really was a gifted
musician. He wrote music for some lyrics I penned, and really blew me
away with the beautiful music he came up with. The song is called, "The
Love You're Looking For". He also sang on one of my originals we
recorded at Victor Sound with The Hava Bros, called "Believe", which he
just tore up...and he also came up with a cool little break at the end.
He arranged a slick vocal part to go with the break and added 2 harmony
voices to my one in the background, which really improved the song.
When we played together in Hot Ice,
we really became close and had some really memorable and fun times
together, mostly musical. One night at Pepe's Show Lounge at Cicero &
Pulaski, we had that funk music going just right, and the crowd was
huge. The people were going nuts on the dance floor when suddenly a
fight broke out between two girls. A circle formed as they kept going
with claws out, kicking and tearing at each others clothes. Tony and I
were looking at each other, laughing in amazement when suddenly a white
frilly thing landed on the keys of Tony's electric piano. It took us
both a few seconds to realize that 1) it was a sleeve, and 2) it flew up
from the dance floor right off the arm of one of those fighting women.
We laughed so hard it hurt! There was usually laughter around Tony.
Lefty Dizz
Born 1937-Died Sept. 7, 1993
It's funny how in life you encounter different
people, and it's sometimes amazing how these people affect your entire
being. I was so lucky to have met this guy. Lefty Dizz was one of the
first blues artists who 'adopted' me on the south side. He was one of a
kind, a good friend, and a great musician. Many people aren't aware that
he served in the US Air Force, and was also college educated.
Lefty's real name was Walter Williams. Williams is a
fairly common name I guess...it's my last name, and the last name of the
drummer in my band, Ed. I knew Lefty's family pretty well, because Dizz
and I hung out alot. I was good friends with Woody, Roz, Yvette, Woody
and Red Rock. I'm pretty sure Johnny Dollar was related to Lefty also,
and he was around a lot in the old days too. I wish I knew where they
were now. I shared many meals with that family, and laughed and partied
with them.
Lefty took me under
his wing and we had a great musical adventure together. He taught me so
much about accompaniment. And he's the guy who introduced me to Buddy
Guy, Hound Dog Taylor*, Jimmy Rogers, Jimmy Reed, Willie Dixon and so
many others. It's funny looking back, because many of those guys still
remembered when Mike Bloomfield was on the scene and what an impact The
Butterfield Blues Band had. When Lefty would introduce me to folks, he
used to hint in his playful way, that maybe I was the next Bloomfield,
which I surely was not!
It seemed like everywhere we played,
people loved Lefty, and when we walked into an unfamiliar setting and
the audience didn't know him...he would win them over. We played gigs in
Wisconsin, Indiana, and Michigan besides Chicago and many times our car
would be our motel room. We drank whiskey, played blues and laughed alot.
We also would misbehave from time to time....
I always felt I received much of my education in the
streets of Chicago, and Lefty Dizz had to be one of my professors. He
did lecture a lot, didn't he?
I
was always awed by how all the great blues stars would welcome Lefty to
their stage, and when he backed up another artist, he would become
something other than the flamboyant showman he was known as. He would
become a serious accompanist, doing everything in his power to highlight
the main performer. He certainly joined in on 'the act' and would make
all those great faces and such, but his mission at that point was to
make the other guy look good. And even on a bad night, Lefty could walk
into a club, start playing, and within a few minutes he would have the
people captivated. He knew how to break the ice. He would connect with
the audience by talking and jiving while we in the band kept a quiet
blues groove going. He would start the show with some down home
blues and build the set to a crescendo, until we we're rockin the house
down. He would bring it up, then bring it down....he'd stop us and talk
a little bit, then with a big wave of his hand, he'd start us up again,
right on cue. These are the lessons this professor taught me, and I
still employ his teachings today.
I was really blessed when my old friend and musician
bud Billy Ferrick called one day in 1993 and asked if I would like to
play a party gig with Dizz. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity, as I
hadn't seen or played with Lefty in a few years. It was so much fun.
Killer was on drums and Billy was in his usual fine form. It brought
back memories of 1970, when Billy and I were both playing with Lefty and
frequently gigging at Mr. Z's, Pepper's, and other clubs around Chicago.
As I look back on that day, I remember I was off the sauce and Lefty
wanted me to do a shot of Grand Dad. Even though it was only 1:00PM in
the afternoon, I would have done one for sure, but I was determined to
take a break from booze. I asked my wife Mary to shoot it for me. So I
watched in amusement as Lefty and Mary toasted, with Lefty sayin'..."Cut
me in or cut it out!"...
I met Jerry Wilson through Mark Hannon on some gig
somewhere. Jerry and I hit it off right away, and before long we were
hanging out all the time. When I first met him, he was living with Lisa
Tillman, the poet. Jerry was a true original, and there are many stories
of his escapades. He was also somewhat of a philosopher, and would often
get going on a subject and not let it go until he was certain you had
seen his point of view. He was small in stature, but commanded the stage
like nobody's business, and blew that horn with such passion. One thing
about Jerry Wilson is that man could make you laugh until your sides
ached. He had such an amusing perspective on things. Jerry played quite
a bit with Hannon over the years, and I joined him on some of these
sets. You can hear Jerry playing a rousing sax solo on Sparrow's album
tribute to Duke Ellington. I have many hours of tape from when Jerry
would come up to my place and we'd record and jam.
I suppose many people might have been surprised that
Jerry's memorial jam was hosted by Buddy Miles, but not me. Jerry seemed
to know everybody.
*Lefty introduced me to Hound Dog Taylor. They were
great friends. I ended up hanging out with Hound Dog and he asked me to
do a gig with him. I had seen Hound Dog a few times by now and was in
awe of his guitarist, Brewer Phillips. It wasn't until I actually played
with these guys that I realized just how great Brewer was. Playing along
side this guy I saw close up some incredible blues guitar. Hound Dog
didn't use a bass player, just drums, Hound Dog on vocals and slide, and
Brewer. Phillips played bass on the guitar while the old man played
slide, and filled in between with these incredible gut bucket little
riffs. I mean, this guy was playing the real shit!