“The Greatest Photo Taker”: Remembering Jack Bradley Part 46–Stony Brook and Garden State Arts Center, Plus Louis is Hospitalized 1968-1969

Virtual Exhibit • March 25, 2024

Our previous post ended with a joyful letter sent from Louis “Strong Arm” to Jack Bradley and Jeann Failows from the Mayfair Hotel in London, where he was cashing in on the runaway success of “What a Wonderful World.” He celebrated his 68th birthday on July 4, flew back to New York on July 5, and headed straight back to stage, performing at the Dogwood Hollow Amphitheater in Stony Brook, Long Island on July 6.

Jack Bradley wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to see Louis so close to home so he attended the show and brought his camera. Unfortunately, these negatives really took a beating and are scratched up more than any others in the Bradley Collection. Still, they offer some great glimpses of the All Stars in an amphitheater setting, probably jet lagged and exhausted, but still putting on their usual entertaining show. As always, Jack couldn’t resist snapping away as Louis and Tyree Glenn did their “That’s My Desire” routine, so we’ll begin there:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-13
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-20

A little blurred and scratchy, but it’s always good to see Jewel Brown:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-23

And here’s Louis and the All Stars in full flight:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-26

With his arms out, I wonder if Louis is encouraging the crowd to sing along with “You’ll Never Walk Alone”:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-28
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-30
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-32

The negatives are getting scratchier on these final images, but the All Stars still shine through:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-33
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-35
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1986-36

That’s all we have from Stony Brook. There’s a conspicuous absence of any of Jack’s usual backstage photos. It’s possible that Armstrong’s manager Joe Glaser attended the show, hoping to get the report from London. Bradley was wary of Glaser and perhaps thought it best to skip the dressing room hang this time–this is a bit of conjecture, but keep it in mind for later in this post.

Bradley and Failows immediately headed to Newport–this same roll of film is shared with images Bradley took of Ray Charles’s set the following night–and would spend much of the rest of the summer vacationing in Rhode Island. For his part, Louis headed off to Nevada to play two weeks at the Tropicana in Las Vegas followed by two weeks at Harold’s Club in Reno (he also recorded the rest of the tracks for the album What a Wonderful World while out there). On July 13, Louis wrote another rollicking letter to Jack, opening by mentioning that he was waiting for Jack to call him. He also extends an invitation for Jack to go to his home in Queens to see some of the items he brought back from London; Lucille had stayed behind but would soon join him.

Louis then has another “important” task for Jack, to make up a new version of the Swiss Kriss “keyhole” card! In this post, we shared the original version but Louis had an idea for a new one–the same design but add the words “Swiss Krissly” on top. Here’s the letter to Jack and Jeann, “my favorite pair”:

LAHM 2008_1_15
LAHM 2008_1_15
LAHM 2008_1_15
LAHM 2008_1_15

A few days later, Louis checked in again from the Tropicana with a postcard that eventually made its way to Bradley’s correct summer Rhode Island residence, as evidenced by the multiple addresses on the envelope:

LAHM 2006_1_16

Inside the envelope? Louis included the new “Swiss Krissly” design (referred to in the above letter as “real art,” haha), which he requested Jack send him 500 copies of:

LAHM 2008_1_16

On the back, Louis’s instructions:

LAHM 2008_1_16

It might seem humorous now to see Louis printing up these keyhole cards and diet charts, but the demand was definitely legit. On July 23, New York Daily News columnist Charles McHarry mentioned that he wrote about Louis’s diet in a previous column and received over 3,500 requests for a copy! Here’s McHarry’s column:

Leaving the diet aside for the time being, when Louis got to Harold’s Club in Reno, he sent along a postcard:

LAHM 2008_1_17

Here’s Louis’s inscription on the back to Jack and Jeann, addressed to “Dear Children,” just a quick note to show he was thinking of them:

LAHM 2008_1_17

Bradley came through with the new Swiss Krissly card design and Armstrong immediately sent the following telegram on August 8 to thank him:

LAHM 2008_1_18

Armstrong next headed to San Antonio, Texas, where he played the Hemisfair Arena from August 19-25 as part of the 1968 World’s Fair. Once again, Louis made sure to send Jack and Jeann a postcard:

LAHM 2008_1_19

Here’s Louis’s note to “Roni Plus Jaxson, We’re All Nuts” :

LAHM 2008_1_19

Jack and Jeann also received a postcard from Lucille Armstrong from the Hemisfair, checking in with “Mr. and Mrs. Jack Bradley” to let them know that “Pops is King here at the Texas World’s Fair”:

LAHM 2008_1_20

While in Texas, Armstrong held a press conference to give a preview of his packed fall schedule, which would include a return to England, trips to Japan and Australia, and an October 1 engagement in Vienna, Austria under the auspices of the State Department. He also announced that he was down to 120 pounds, the lowest he had weighed since he left to play on the Mississippi Riverboats with Fate Marable in 1919.

But before he could get to the fall, Louis would head to Chicago to play the (famously contentious) Democratic National Convention, followed by concerts in Denver and a run through Canada before finally heading back home to New York in early September. Before heading back, Louis sent Jack one more postcard, this time from the airport. Here’s the front:

LAHM 2008_1_21

And Louis’s inscription on the back, noting he’d be home:

LAHM 2008_1_21

Indeed, Armstrong would make it home in time for the first annual Garden State Arts Center Jazz Festival, taking place in Holmdel, New Jersey on September 7, 1968. Jack saved an advertisement (which included one of his photos of Louis):

LAHM 2008_3_188

Jack would be present at the Garden State Arts Center and take his first photos of Louis since the Stony Brook gig–here’s some of the best ones of Louis at the microphone, Bradley walking around the outdoor venue to get shots from different viewpoints:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-05
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-04
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-09
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-08
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-12

Jewel Brown in the spotlight:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-03

Joe Muranyi:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-02

And one more of the All Stars with Louis blowing:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-06

This time, Bradley was able to get backstage where he took some striking/bordering on alarming photos of a now rail-thin Armstrong:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-13

Armstrong made sure to make time to sign autographs:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-18

And pose for photos with fans, such as this one taken with an unidentified young boy:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-11

And there were guests backstage, too; Bradley brought along his friend, trumpeter Leon Eason:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-15

But Louis seemed extra preoccupied with getting his chops together, resulting in some beautiful photos of him warming up and examining his horn:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-21
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-17
Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-16

Bradley took this next photo through the dressing room mirror:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-19

And finally, Bradley positioned himself behind Louis and took this stunning photo, utilizing the mirror once more to capture a pensive Armstrong staring at his trumpet, looking tired after 55 years of nonstop work:

Photo by Jack Bradley. LAHM 2006_1_1678-20

No one could have known it at the time–though it’s possible Louis knew it deep down inside–but this would be one of the final regular All Stars gigs. Back in New York, Armstrong went for a checkup with Dr. Gary Zucker and was told there was alarming swelling in his legs that could be a sign of heart or kidney trouble. According to Zucker, Armstrong disappeared for the next several days, living it up with old friends in Harlem; sure enough, there are no mentions of any Armstrong performances after the September 7 Jersey gig until a Friday evening at the Sunnybrook Ballroom in Pottstown, Pennsylvania on September 13. But on September 17, Armstrong returned to Beth Israel for tests and this time was admitted to the hospital, making headlines on September 18.

“It grieves us to report that in mid-September Louis Armstrong was hospitalized at Beth Israel Hospital in N.Y.C.,” Jack Bradley wrote in his Coda magazine column in October. “As of press time, he has been there for over a month. His manager, Joe Glaser, refuses to give out any details, other than he is ‘improving.’ Earlier this year, Louis decided to go on a diet so he would weight what he did in 1920 — 120 pounds! Well, he lost over 50 pounds and was down to 132 when he took sick. We suspect this rapid weight loss was at least partly the cause of his illness. It looks as though the King will be away from his throne (the bandstand) for quite some time. When he finally gets out of the hospital, he will require a long period of recuperation. If anyone is deserving of rest and retirement it is Louis Armstrong.”

After nine weeks in intensive care, Armstrong was released from Beth Israel in November, his manager Joe Glaser telling reporters that Armstrong’s rapid weight loss is what affected his kidneys and he was now back up to 134 pounds and feeling fine (Bradley alluded to Armstrong being 132 pounds at the time of his hospitalization, but he was most likely 120, as reported in the press in the late summer). Glaser canceled Armstrong’s bookings for the rest of the year and the trumpet stayed home and cooled it with his wife Lucille.

Actually, before he made it back home, Lucille used her husband’s stay in intensive care to begin a major renovation of their home that would take up much of the fall of 1968. When Louis was released from the hospital, he first had to spend a little time with Lucille at the Skyway Hotel on Ditmars Boulevard, just a few minutes away in East Elmhurst. Rumors started spreading, as evidenced in a letter from Washington D. C. based jazz historian Leon Vogel to Bradley and Failows on November 28 in which Vogel wrote, “I have heard some distressing stories regarding ‘Pops.’ What I have heard are very disconcerting such as his locking himself in a hotel room and not seeing anybody.”

Meanwhile, in Jack Bradley’s world, there was a crisis: after ten years together and many of their friends assuming they were married, Bradley and Jeann “Roni” Failows ended their relationship sometime in the fall. Our Jack Bradley Collection has many references to the fallout, including a diary Failows kept in November and December 1968, but they seem too personal to just throw up on this website. However, since their relationship has been a constant presence through all 40+ parts of this series, it does seem appropriate to try to untangle the end of it.

It appears that things were in a rocky place in October as Failows saved a letter she wrote to a man named Gene in which she declared, “I have had a Full Life – I am 43 years old and have survived all kinds of things- sorrow – physical pain, rejection and been unable to find my place in the world. That was then – this is Now. For you – for me – for all. Life can be meaningful. There is time to work and time to laugh and party, too. ‘Life is a Cabaret’ sings Louis Armstrong – but it is a lot of other things too.’”

Soon after, Failows had a breakdown of some sort and moved out of her apartment with Bradley and into the Veterans Administration Hospital. She began keeping a notebook, writing on November 26, “I am finally starting to feel almost like me again – tho saddened at hurting Jack.” A few weeks later, she wrote, “Jack called – sounding so bad.” Failows began spending time with Reverend John Gensel, head of the “jazz ministry” at St. Peter’s Church. On December 10, Genesl wrote to Failows, “I have been concerned about you and Jack. Really, no matter what Jack might have said to you over the telephone or how angry he sounded, he is really very much in love with you. He told me so himself.”

But it was too late. By January 9, Swiss journalist Johnny Simmen wrote to Failows, lamenting that she and Bradley were no longer together but adding that Failows was “in the right place for the time being” and that even though they were separated, “Brother Jaxon is welcome as a visitor.” As we will see, Bradley and Failows might have formally ended their relationship but they seemed to remain on good terms and in each other’s lives for the time being. In fact, when Louis and Lucille moved back into their renovated home, they got a new phone number, which Lucille shared with Jack, asking him to share it with nobody else except “Roni.”

LAHM 2008_1_22a

(Fun fact: that is still the phone number for the Louis Armstrong House Museum today!)

It might seem like we have drifted off course, but this is all a means of setting up the most upsetting story in the Armstrong-Bradley friendship. I have never been able to date it but I finally found a clue in a letter Dan Morgenstern sent too Jack in January 1969, offering his heartfelt condolences on the breakup with Jeann (Dan was friends with both and Jeann was his entry into the world of Armstrong, too).

Dan didn’t date his letter but he opened with a clipping from the columnist “Dorothy Manners” about Louis going back to work and making an appearance on Robert Morse’s television show That’s Life. From what I can tell, that item first hit the news on January 15 so his letter would have been from around that time. In it, Morgenstern offers his friendship during this tough time before turning his attention to Bradley’s relationship with Louis, writing, “I hope you still plan to be with him as much as you used to, even if you have to go by yourself. You’ll be just as welcome that way. I heard something about him screaming on you–but I’m sure you dug what was happening at that time.”

And that, folks, is our cue for what will be the saddest, most unpleasant story of this entire series. The first time Jack told me this story was when I interviewed him for my first book around 2004. A couple of years later, Jack sat down for a taped oral history with Michael Cogswell and David Ostwald and told it again. When I started working for the Armstrong Archives, I found a cassette of Jack telling it in 1989. I mention all of this because though the overall gist of the story always remained the same, Jack did not possess the world’s greatest memory and his details varied with each telling. In the 1989 version, he said it happened around 1967 when Louis was “in and out of the hospital,” which was good enough for me since Louis was indeed in the hospital in May and September of that year.

But in the versions he told to both me and to Cogswell and Ostwald, it seemed to center around a gig he attended but did not venture backstage, fearful of the potential wrath of Joe Glaser. If you recall above, I noted that Bradley attended Louis’s Stony Brook show in July 1968 and didn’t take any photos–a strong possibility. But to Cogswell and Ostwald, Bradley mentioned it might have happened in New Jersey–Jack did make it backstage at the Garden Arts Center in September 1968, but perhaps he still made a comment about Glaser afterwards. Even without the specifics lined up, it makes sense to place this story in late 1968, either immediately before Louis went in the hospital in September or after he got out in November. That would make it a recent enough story to have made its way to Morgenstern by January 1969, who reminded Jack of “what was happening at the time” regarding Armstrong’s health.

With the conjecture about dates and times out of the way, let’s get to the story itself. Bradley apparently went to dinner at Louis and Lucille’s home–without Jeann Failows present–and made a comment about not going backstage sometime because he was afraid Glaser wouldn’t let him. Bradley was no fan of Glaser and apparently said this with a tone. Armstrong wouldn’t stand for anyone–not even Lucille–saying anything disparaging about Glaser so he proceeded to verbally tell off Bradley, knowing exactly where to stick the knife: mentioning his camera and all the musicians he used to bring around. In the 1989 version, Bradley specifically remembered Louis naming Leon Eason, who appeared in this post; in an earlier post about one of Louis’s Brunswick dates, I foreshadowed that Louis didn’t look especially thrilled to be posing for photos with Eason. I don’t think he had anything personally against him, but maybe had grown tired of the older, down-on-their-luck musicians Bradley and Failows hung around with, perhaps thinking they expected handouts.

Anyway, Armstrong’s words made Bradley cry and he left the dinner immediately and cried all the way home. He still got teary when telling me the story and when telling it to Cogswell and Ostwald–here’s the audio of that moment (caution: strong language):

So there you have it–it’s still upsetting for me to hear, three years into compiling this series. It’s still difficult to place it. It could have happened after Stony Brook, but then all of those letters and postcards Louis sent in the weeks after would really illustrate how quickly he got over it. It could have happened after the Garden State Arts Center, too, even if Jack did make it backstage; perhaps he left abruptly, saw Louis a few days later, got screamed at by an obviously ailing Louis, and then Louis entered the hospital. That actually makes a lot of sense from a timing standpoint but if it was relatively new news when Morgenstern alluded to it in January 1969, then the only thing I can think of is Armstrong’s aforementioned appearance on That’s Life, filmed sometime in December 1968, almost immediately after getting out of the hospital. Perhaps Bradley attended–he didn’t take any photos–and bailed upon seeing Glaser.

With that unpleasantness out of the way, Bradley seemed to go underground, his decade-long relationship to Failows ending and now having been told off by his hero and close friend. For his part, Armstrong truly did not seem to hold any grudge over Bradley at all. On February 14,1969, Armstrong wrote to Failows, puzzled that he couldn’t seem to get in touch with Bradley. Armstrong had fallen in love with a tape of the All Stars live in London from July 1968, right before he got sick, and had sent copies of it to many friends. Here’s the copy he sent to Failows:

LAHM 2010_22_12

In the letter that follows from February 14, Armstrong writes that he’s relieved Failows is out of the hospital and then provides an update on his own health before inquiring on the second page, “Tell Jack that I’ve been wondering why I haven’t heard from him either.” Armstrong says he had sent Bradley a tape, too, but never heard back from him and asks him “to lay some ink on me.” Here’s the letter:

LAHM 2017_99_147
LAHM 2017_99_147
LAHM 2017_99_147

It’s not known if Bradley did respond by laying some ink on Armstrong; most likely, he was still shell-shocked and laying low. But there wouldn’t be much time to mend fences as Armstrong’s kidney trouble flared up again in a major way, sending him back to Beth Israel in critical condition on February 19, just five days after he wrote the above letter. Armstrong would remain in intensive care for two months before being released in April. Bradley reported on it in his “Hot Notes” column, the official periodical of the New York Hot Jazz Society, which Bradley led:

LAHM 2008_5_38-05

On March 21, Joe Glaser ended up at Beth Israel with a cerebral spasm, forcing him into a coma. Lucille thought it would be best to keep the news away from Louis but when Dizzy Gillespie dropped by and told him he was there to also see Glaser, Louis erupted and told Lucille off in a similar fashion as he had done with Bradley earlier.

Glaser, however, never woke from his coma, suffering a stroke in May and passing away on June 7. Armstrong had been home since April and saw very few guests; however, he did welcome Louis Panassie from France and tape recorded their conversation, which we have previously shared on this site. During that conversation, Louis and Lucille speak fondly of Jack and even try calling him up at one point. Clearly bygones were bygones, but even if Bradley was back to visiting Louis at home, he left his camera behind out of respect for his ailing friend.

In fact, after the last photo he snapped at the Garden State Arts Center in September 1968, Bradley would not take another photo of Armstrong until June 15, 1969–and we’ll have those photos and more from the year 1969 in our next post.