Edgar Bateman Jr.: A Memorable Memorial

I thought I was going to be late for the service. Why did I take Broad Street instead of Roosevelt Boulevard? But when I finally reached the Pentecostal Bridegroom Temple at 6425 Wister Street, I discovered that I was among some of the first that arrived. Of course the band was already there, and I went up the aisle and talked with alto saxophonist Julian Pressley, who had organized the music. No doubt it was going to be some fabulous music because saxophonist Bobby Zankel, pianist Tommy Lawton, bassist Tyrone Brown and drummer Craig McIver were going to be playing.

"Is that Edgar's son?" Julian asked me as he pointed to a lanky young man with long hair at the front of the church.
"No, his son has short hair," I said, referring to Edgar Bateman III.
"Wow, that man looks just like Edgar," replied Julian.

The church was beautiful with stone arches and a high wood ceiling, but it was hot and steamy. The electric fans along the sides were strategically placed, but it wasn't until I got my official Christopher G. Kent Funeral Home, Inc. personal fan, that I felt comfortable. Everyone sitting in the pews were waving at themselves vigorously as we waited for Edgar Bateman III and his family. A nice vibe was developing.

Drummer Jim Miller and I milled about and mingled. Jazz musicians are experts at mingling. Lots of folks were there: Lovett Hines from the Clef Club (who will start a scholarship in Bateman's name, ka-ching!), Warren Oree, Gerald Veasley, Webb Thomas, Nate Murray, Dave Liebman, Steve Beskrone, Bobby Moses, Monnette Sudler, and Newman Baker. As per usual at a jazz funeral, if the thing hasn't started yet, it's time to catch up on what everybody's doing. Musicians can't help themselves. Conversation veered from "Why do we always just see each other at funerals?" to the sorry state of gigs to be had and how careers are going. When one is young, careers are going GREAT! But when one is older and relaxed, the honesty is refreshing.

Drummer Newman Baker was waylaid by Beskrone almost immediately. "Newman Baker! I haven't seen you in years! Hey, man, you look exactly the same!"
"That's cause I've looked old for a long time," laughed Baker.

Turns out Baker has been playing the washboard, strumming with empty shotgun shells on his fingers, with a traditional string band called the Ebony Hillbillies; a gig that was originally Dave Gibson's. Newman is touring and having delicious fun with this new genre for him, old genre for jazz. Steve Beskrone just came back from being on tour in Australia and New Zealand with a singer. He said he met Tom Jones, but I don't believe him. Steve can tell crazy stories like that. He DID say that saxophonist Bob Howell's people live in Australia and they took him to see kangaroos. I believe that...why, I don't know.

The service was terrific in that allowed for a lot of reflections from different people who knew Edgar Bateman. The most touching part was the little speech by Aaron Kai Bateman, an artist, who had been adopted as a small baby by a couple in California. (He was the man Julian had noticed when he was talking to me) Aaron barely knew his father, but when he described getting to know his father first through the Internet by finding his work on You Tube and such, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. That he was finally able to meet his father before he died and connect with his Philly roots was an amazing story.

Edgar Bateman III said how his father, after an early bout with rheumatic fever as a boy, was always a health nut thereafter. Then he told a story about how his father would box in the afternoon and then play drums at night. He said musicians would ask his father, "What happens if you get knocked out and can't play the gig?" His father said, "I might lose, but I won't get knocked out." Newman Baker got up and talked a little, but then immediately jumped on McIver's drums and played a heartfelt solo. Bobby Zankel injected a philosophical Buddist aphorism. Julian Pressley was so sweet and sentimental as he reminisced about Edgar Bateman giving him his first gig in 1975. Julian said, "He taught me how musicians had to play to the very end," and that musicians needed to "play hard to the very end." No shortcuts. No halfway efforts. Everybody laughed when Julian told how Edgar instigated his switch to the alto sax (Julian was playing baritone then). "Edgar told me to get rid of the starvation box. Only Edgar would call a baritone saxophone a starvation box."

What I especially liked about the memorial was that it primarily centered on the remembrance of Edgar Bateman Jr. I think that's because the reverend actually knew Edgar Bateman Jr. How many times have I been to memorials where the reverend goes on and on about being born again and how everyone's going to hell. At one especially weird memorial, the pastor actually chastised the musicians in attendance for playing jazz! I remember pianist Gerald Price's funeral when the pastor kept calling him "Gerry" until finally somebody stood up and said, "His name is Gerald!" Today, we only had one verbal mishap when an elder kept referring to saxophonist Dave Liebman as David Letterman.

But Edgar Bateman Jr.'s send off was absolutely wonderful. When Julian led the band in playing a fantastic composition by Bateman called Journey to Life, it really said all there was to say about the man and his music.

Rest in Peace, Edgar. We won't forget.

Getting the Hang of This

This is new to me. Brand new. But it looks like fun. If you are reading this, then you know you're viewing something terribly inchoate. But I hope you'll stay tuned!