He came from poverty.
He became Someone.
Whose word was his bond. If he shook your hand, it sealed the deal. No lawyers need be involved. They were not needed between gentlemen of honor.
His first contract was finalized with a handshake and it stood for the ensuing decade. That content brought him national acclaim. He would soon travel to places he had only read about: Tokyo, Florence, Sydney, and London.
And as he sang to audiences all over the globe, he remained exactly how he was, honest, encouraging, sincere.
He did not get the big head. He did not become arrogant.
He never forgot his beginnings or the poverty or the cold of a December night without heat. He never forgot the hunger which was unrelenting and demanding. It seemed to him that he was always hungry. How can a piece of toast satisfy the hunger of a teenage boy? A piece of toast without butter or jam.
And yet the fates smiled on him. He was given a rich baritone voice and a magical eye which taught him to see rather than be seen.
He saw it all. The quiet desperation of a hungry child. He knew that child because it was he. He saw each evening sunset, gold, and mauve. The cricket and the bumblebee. A rainbow. Nothing escaped his intellect.
His voice was, indeed, a glorious gift and taught him to rejoice just to be alive. To breathe the fresh morning of September. To see the grapes as they ripened on the vines. To listen.
The sounds of the earth were magic. The locomotive crossing the road as it headed north or the 4 a.m. birdsong which woke him early. That is the reason why he slept with the windows open so he could hear the first songs of morning. The birds were ready for a new morning and so was he. Was he singing tonight in Madrid or in Toronto or in New York City? It did not matter. He enjoyed them all.
He kept fruits and nuts always with him to assuage any hunger. He especially liked kiwi, oranges, and blueberries. Walnuts and pecans were eaten daily. Those were foods he never had as a child, but he always hungered for them as an adult. Once in a while he ate a donut, round and frosted.
He had decided with his travel schedule never to marry. He would have enjoyed the closeness of family life and it would have suited his nature. But how does one raise children when you are never home? How to have a loving wife when she went without his attention? No, it was better this way. Solitary.
His last European tour was taken at age 78. He knew it would be his last as his energy was diminished as was his eyesight. His voice remained strong and lyrical.
After returning to the States, he signed his Living Will and put all assets in a Trust. The Trust would benefit Boys Town in Omaha and the Children’s Choir of Harlem.
He passed this life in a quiet room and alone. He was buried next to his parents in a small cemetery in Memphis. Those who had heard him sing and those who had his numerous records, remember.