A Rough Week

It’s been a rough week. We lost two very important musical personages this week, both of whom were one-of-a-kind: Larry McKinley and George H. Buck, Jr.

I was privileged to know both gentlemen and be able to visit them in their homes. George and Nina Buck moved to New Orleans from Atlanta in 1987. I don’t remember who introduced me to them, but I do remember going to a party at their house on Ursulines Street, and being so impressed with their friendship, and knowledge of music. Both George and Nina were amazing people. George singlehandedly is one of the great preservationists of American music, and particularly traditional jazz  and New Orleans jazz.

Nina nad George Buck accept their Best of The Beat Award in January 2006.

George was born in New Jersey and got interested in music and jazz at a young age. At the tender age of 20 he produced a record by the New Orleans musician Tony Parenti, and in effect founded the G.H.B. Record label, which is devoted to preserving and promoting traditional New Orleans jazz. Buck owned numerous radio stations throughout his lifetime, and admitted that any profits from those businesses went into his passion for collecting musical recordings. His wife Nina, was a pretty, effervescent blonde and a proper Brit who was also jazz-crazy. She at one time had been married to British reed player Sammy Rimmington, who had been active in New Orleans trad jazz for many years. When George and Nina moved to New Orleans, it was like they finally came home to the source. Right away, George established his record business, and Nina got busy renovating and opening the Palm Court Jazz Cafe on Decatur Street, which hosted trad jazz players (among others), served up local food in a cozy atmosphere and served as an outlet for sales of George’s recordings.

Buck — despite being blind since he was young — not only ran his mail order and retail record/CD business from his offices above the Palm Court, he also continued to stay active in producing and in the radio business. Both Nina and George were articulate and outspoken–and correct–about the importance of jazz to New Orleans. Their businesses were living proof that New Orleans was a mecca for music lovers around the world. Buyers worldwide subscribed to George’s newsletter and magazine, and ordered his products, and jazz lovers flocked to Nina’s cafe. George had been in poor health for the past few years, and Swedish pianist Lars Edegran became active in running his record business. I’m glad that we honored George and Nina with a Best of The Beat Lifetime Achivement Award in Music Business in January 2006.

Larry McKinley was one of those legendary people in New Orleans music who was also once of the nicest guys you’d ever want to meet. His music CV is incredible: deejay, record producer, talent scout, label owner and progenitor producer of some of New Orleans’ most famous R&B musicians and talent: Allen Toussaint, Jessie Hill, Ernie K-Doe, Irma Thomas and Chris Kenner, among many others.

McKinley was the "voice of the Jazz Fest"--among many other things. (Source: Jazz and Heritage Foundation)

OffBeat presented Larry with a Best of The Beat Lifetime Achievement Award in Music Business in January 2005, just eight months before the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. Joseph and I were invited to his home in Pontchartrain Park, and I felt so honored to be invited into his office, where he kept his memorabilia and photos of all the musicians and music business folk he had known and worked with over the years. It was heartbreaking to realize that most of this probably was lost in the Katrina flooding. But Larry was a very resilient guy, and I spoke with him several times post-Katrina. He had lived in Baton Rouge, but moved back to the city as soon as he was able. Lucky for me (and us) we’ll always get to hear Larry’s booming voice as we enter and leave the Jazz Fest every year.

Bless you both: you added so much to our musical culture, and we honor you for your achievements and contributions to our-and the world’s-music scene.

And my gem of a friend of almost 20 years, Diane Gershuny, also passed away this week at the age of only 54. I got acquainted with Diane in the mid-90s and we hit it off, gangbusters; she was writing then, went on to work for Fender, and to start her own successful publicity business. She moved to California, but became one of my steady friends–you know, the kind you may not see in a year or so, but when you meet up it’s like you’ve never been apart. We had a lot of friends and music in common, and hung out whenever we could. She worked with many New Orleans musicians and wrote about them for publications all over the country.

Diane was just in New Orleans in July, and was set to house-sit for us this fall when we planned to go see our newest grandchild in London. But it was not to be. In late August, she had to cancel her trip. She’d had esophageal cancer within the past two years; had been through surgery, chemo and radiation treatments. She didn’t want to really talk about it much then, wanted to keep it quiet.  But in July she looked radiant, felt great and was even thinking about moving to New Orleans (her father lives in Covington). She sent me an email on August 23 telling me the cancer was back and had spread. So she cancelled her trip. She knew it was terminal and

Diane and her beloved chihuahua, Lucy.

opted out of any more treatment in order to pass with dignity, on her own terms. After that terrible revelation, we wrote to each other and talked a lot more. I wanted her to feel my support and love for her (thank goodness for email). She knew she was dying but kept up correspondence as long as she could. In fact she only closed her business down in mid-November. The last time we spoke was on November 21, before we left for England. I treasure those few moments, hearing her voice, and tried to wish her a peaceful joyous transitionナnot knowing if I’d ever hear her voice again. And, as it turned out, she fell into a coma last weekend and she died Monday morning, surrounded by her parents and her friends.

Losing people is hard, but it’s also a part of life we all have to face. All three of my friends led productive, wonderful lives. They were loved by their family and friends; all have left indelible memories and legacies. What more can one ask for in life? Everlasting peace to you all.