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Mar. 1, 1999
Today's writing is about the BOBBY TROUP
MEMORIAL held yesterday at the Moonlight Tango Cafe in Encino. It was wonderful,
memorable, funny and sad. I learned so much more about Bobby that I have to
share some of it here with you. I think when we lose a friend, whether it was a
personal friend or a person who's work became our friend (like a favorite song
does), it gives us pause, not only because of our sudden realization that our
friend won't be there at our whim, but makes us also wonder how our own lives
have been lived. There is usually much more to a great writer than just their
writing. It takes a certain amount of "life force" and "soul" to generate great
work artistically, and normally it doesn't start or stop with the art.
Bobby was not only a world-class writer
(Route 66, Girl Talk, Lemon Twist, The Three Bears, etc.) but an amazing man. He
was salty, funny, caring, a great father, a talented actor (MASH, Emergency,
etc.) and a bad boy in early years. Stories ranged from missed gigs, to first
day meetings on the set of Emergency. Most touching were the stories of Bobby
and Julie (London, his beautiful wife.) Many said "BobbyandJulie" as if they
were one word, and that was the feeling of their life together.
The most impactive speeches were given by the Montford Point Marine
representatives who came to honor Bobby's service in the Marines. It seems that
Captain Troup was the first white officer to be given command of an all black
unit in Jackson, North Carolina. When Bobby came in, the men were living in
tents, with filthy latrine conditions, and nothing anywhere to relieve the
stress of their condition. (This was in the days where a black in Jackson had to
cross the street or literally stand in the gutter while a white walked by.)
Captain Troup took a "haul ass" attitude, and with the help of the men, created
Quonset huts, new latrines, a nightclub, a basketball court and team, a boxing
ring, a jazz band, an orchestra, and get this... he somehow maneuvered a friend
to come and install a miniature golf course. Soon, the other (white) units (who
had given an intolerable time to the unit before Bobby's arrival) suddenly
wanted to come and hang out in their area. Those who spoke said that Bobby
didn't recognize color... only soul.
I can't tell you the number of local artists who paid tribute... I'll try to
mention a few. Page Cavanaugh was WONDERFUL with his trio (including Al Viola,
my apologies to the great bass player for missing his name), Jack Sheldon was
irreverently funny (just as Bobby would have been), the legendary Rosemary
Clooney flew in from Colorado to honor him with a version of "My Buddy". Actors
Kent McCord and Kevin Tighe gave stirring recollections of his "Emergency" days,
songwriting greats Ray Evans and Jack Segal recalled Bobby's love of songwriting
and songs.
I guess my concluding thought here is, appreciate those who touch your lives
while you still might... we are all fragile and limited, and yet our powers
reach so far in our art, let us combine our appreciation and love and ability to
learn from and share with each other. We are all grinning up at you, Bobby. (Janet
Fisher c.1999) ~
http://www.goodnightkiss.com/bobby.html
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