Quote: "What do they call this—bar mitzvah?—where you come out as a man? I think Seattle was kind of like that for me. The reason I put it to you that way is because in Seattle, at that point, all of a sudden, I had to become a man." - Ray Charles
In 1947, a blind 17 year-old Ray Charles Robinson enlisted the help of his friend, Gosady McGee:
"Take that map [and] I want you to find the big city furthest away from here. Go as far as you possibly can without leaving America." The two boys were in the sweaty south-Florida.
"Seattle," said McGee.
"That in the state of Washington?"
"Yes it is."
"Well, brother, count me as good as gone. ‘Cause that's where I'm going. And I be leaving soon."
In his autobiography, Charles said about Seattle: "I went in blind and I came out blind. And I was none the worse for it. I survived."
Ray (otherwise known as RC) Robinson's presence in Seattle was as a shooting star - a flash of light and then gone.
Ray Charles Robinson was born to Bailey and Aretha Robinson on September 23, 1930 in Albany, Georgia. From there, Ray's family moved to Greenville, Florida. Ray was born with his sight, but by the age of seven, he had completely lost his vision. One of the last sights Ray witnessed was his younger brother's drowning in his arms as he tried to pull him from a washtub.
After going blind, Ray's mother sent him to St. Augustine's - the Florida State School for the deaf and blind. Rather than graduating, Ray left a dissatisfied student; he left school, his girlfriend Louise and his home to travel because as he once stated, "I was ready to move. I've always been ready to move. It suits my style."
Ray Charles Robinson stepped off a five day, five night bus ride from Florida into early morning rain the spring of 1948. He was at the Jackson Street Station in Seattle, Washington. It was a new day, a new year, a new city, and RC was a new star, stepping into the arms of a pulsing underground jazz scene swarming with talent and opportunity. Ray found an empty piano bench and a welcoming crowd his first night out - at a venue on Jackson Street called the Rocking Chair.
He received an offer the very same night to form a trio and play at the Elks Club on Friday nights. He took it. Ray, his back-home friend - Gosady McGee, and Milt Garred formed the McSon Trio. The Trio played at the Elks Club, the Rocking Chair, and the notorious Black and Tan. They traveled from Fort Lawton to Tacoma to Kirkland and performed free on the radio in exchange for advertisement - giving out their phone number in hopes for more gigs. The McSon Trio was even featured on a five week television special, one of the first shows to feature young African-Americans. Equal partners in the McSon Trio, they each played for $25 a night.
In the late '40's and early '50's, Seattle was teeming with talented musicians. The jazz scene was scalding and the music community, though extremely competitive, was overflowing with the exchange of knowledge and influence. The artists fed off of each other. Music was a shared commonality stronger than the fight for work, money, food, and the ultimate - fame. During Charles' time was friend and tenor saxophone player, Gerald Brashear, who played with Cecil Young's group. The notorious Bumps Blackwell had a combo called "The Junior Band" that frequented white clubs and occasionally included Charles on piano. By night, Blackwell was a jazz musician with the rest. By day, he ran a budding musician management business from his meat-market butcher shop. The likes of Buddy Catlett, Floyd Standifer, and Ernestine Anderson were frequently found hanging around waiting for gigs.
Charles learned styling by imitating his favorite musicians from youth. He sang like Nat King Cole and Charles Brown. He could name famous artists and then embody them - singing and playing such that he was often mistaken for the actual Charles Brown or Nat "King" Cole. Charles believed it was his job to give the crowd what they'd paid for - a show, entertainment, and music that they were sure to enjoy. His crowd pleasing compassion was a surefire way to make the money on which he barely survived, but it also cramped Charles' growth as a musician.
After more than a year of live performance, the McSon Trio in Seattle returned to the venue that had birthed them. The Rocking Chair found Charles another fortune that night - Jack Lauderdale of Downbeat-turned-Swingtime records offered the Trio a deal. They recorded two tracks in 1948, before Charles continued on without the group - without regard for royalties or publishing rights.
It was in Seattle that 17 year-old Ray Charles met 15 year-old Quincy Jones. At the time, Charles was writing arrangements for Seattle big bands - Ghost of a Chance and Dizzy Gillespie's Emanon ("no name" spelled backwards).
Young trumpeter Jones was in awe of Charles as soon as they met. Charles had a girl, a place, and a suit; he was a cool cat. Charles began teaching Jones how to arrange and ultimately, the two bonded over a chord - a B-flat seventh in root position with a C-seventh. Jones said, "When I saw that, it was like that whole world just opened up. Everything from then on made sense." Ray and Quincy affectionately called each other "Six-Nine" and "Seven-O," respectively.
Charles then fled the Northwest for the sun and recording studios of Los Angeles. Jones' time came soon after and in 1951 he moved to New York to play with the Lionel Hampton band. Convinced by Jones to hire Ray, the band searched Seattle for the pianist, but by then - he was already long gone, positioning himself to pounce on an unsuspecting music industry.
When Ray was plucked out of the swirling Seattle mix and landed in a Los Angeles recording studio, he was playing a new game. He was no longer playing to please a crowd, but to define himself, make a name and rise to heights of the legends he'd grown up imitating. In order to make a name, however, Ray had to figure out who Ray Charles was; he was not the Charles Brown or Nat "King" Cole he'd learned.
In order to make the leap from Seattle, Ray left the Rocking Chair, the Black and Tan, and the McSon Trio. He sent his girl home, and he left his last name in the rain on Jackson street where he'd arrived just 3 years previous. Ray Charles Robinson became Ray Charles, the genre-bending blues, jazz, gospel, rock musician, and coiner of the title "soul". He went from pleasing crowds under the night sidewalks of Seattle to enchanting the entire world with his persistent mastery of the musical language. He didn't follow rules - he made them.
