It was Camp Catalina 1999. We just finished a "very tough, very ruff" Steven Mitchell Jazz Movement Class.
I was trying to video a classmate doing the routine we learned, when it happened.
From the corner of my eye, I saw somebody about to cross my frame from stage right. I thought, "How rude..." Instinctively, I put my left hand out and gently pushed the guy back.
I looked up, "SHIT!" it was Frankie. "Frankie, I'm so sorry!"
He just smiled at me and said, "It's cool, man. It's cool!"
– Andy P. Cheung
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Christine LeBel, Easthampton, MA
Thanks for doing this.
THE BEST OF MEALS
I remember what I had for dessert on May 14, 2006.
That day is indelibly etched into my memory because it was the weekend we brought Frankie to town.
I first met Frankie in the late 1990s. A swing revival was filling dance halls and the Stevens sisters of Pasadena, California, were offering lessons to the eager masses. Tammy Stevens was a friend of Frankie’s, one of those responsible for bringing him out of long retirement and back to the swing limelight. It was there I learned from him the solo jazz routine known as “Shim Sham” and danced with him as he gave pointers during one of the lindy hop classes. I’ve seen and interacted with him many times since.
Always gracious and kind, he was old school—treat your dance partner like they’re the most important thing in the world—because they are, at least for a song. The love and respect he gave came back to him in spades.
When I moved east, I became involved in the local dance scene which grew strong enough to support bringing Frankie to our own dance floor, which we did three years ago for an afternoon of workshops (lindy hop, shim sham, and Frankie’s favorite moves), followed by that memorable dinner during which I not only got to sit next to the man I so admired, but actually talk to him for more than a moment in a dance rotation.
In honor of his birthday, we requested the restaurant—the Apollo Grill in Easthampton, Massachusetts—to make his favorite dessert, sweet potato pie. I remember his eyes lit up when he saw the burning candle atop the spicy-sweet Southern pastry, which he proceeded to share with the entire table. It was even better for the company.
That would have been enough to cherish, but dinner was topped off with story time—during which Frankie shared the moments of his life that made him into the dancer and man we knew and loved. A dessert for the soul.
Thank you, Frankie. My life, and so many lives (and meals), would be less without you.
Frankie Manning: May 26, 1914 – April 27, 2009.
Rest in peace. You will not be forgotten.
The above blog post can be found in its original form at http://www.passionaterations.com/2009/04/30/the-best-of-meals , along with a link back here.
THE BEST OF MEALS
I remember what I had for dessert on May 14, 2006.
That day is indelibly etched into my memory because it was the weekend we brought Frankie to town.
I first met Frankie in the late 1990s. A swing revival was filling dance halls and the Stevens sisters of Pasadena, California, were offering lessons to the eager masses. Tammy Stevens was a friend of Frankie’s, one of those responsible for bringing him out of long retirement and back to the swing limelight. It was there I learned from him the solo jazz routine known as “Shim Sham” and danced with him as he gave pointers during one of the lindy hop classes. I’ve seen and interacted with him many times since.
Always gracious and kind, he was old school—treat your dance partner like they’re the most important thing in the world—because they are, at least for a song. The love and respect he gave came back to him in spades.
When I moved east, I became involved in the local dance scene which grew strong enough to support bringing Frankie to our own dance floor, which we did three years ago for an afternoon of workshops (lindy hop, shim sham, and Frankie’s favorite moves), followed by that memorable dinner during which I not only got to sit next to the man I so admired, but actually talk to him for more than a moment in a dance rotation.
In honor of his birthday, we requested the restaurant—the Apollo Grill in Easthampton, Massachusetts—to make his favorite dessert, sweet potato pie. I remember his eyes lit up when he saw the burning candle atop the spicy-sweet Southern pastry, which he proceeded to share with the entire table. It was even better for the company.
That would have been enough to cherish, but dinner was topped off with story time—during which Frankie shared the moments of his life that made him into the dancer and man we knew and loved. A dessert for the soul.
Thank you, Frankie. My life, and so many lives (and meals), would be less without you.
Frankie Manning: May 26, 1914 – April 27, 2009.
Rest in peace. You will not be forgotten.
The above blog post can be found in its original form at http://www.passionaterations.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Frankie and the Moulin Rouge
In October of 2005 Chicago and I were both fortunate enough to play host to Mr. Frankie Manning. One morning we sat across from each other at a local café, and listened to a local Chicago Gypsy Jazz trio play. Frankie looks at me and says,” I remember the first time I met Django”
“It was in the mid 1930’s, and the Cotton Club (dancers/review) led by Teddy Hill had been invited to play at the Moulin Rouge”. Frankie went on to tell me about the boat trip over there, the little place in the corner that served as a hotel for the dancers, and how one night Teddy Hill and some of the other folks had been invited over the Caveau du la Huchette to attend a performance by Django Reinhardt. As the story went, the boys sat in with the band, the dancers danced, and it was the first of many opportunities for the 2 cultures to mix. It was such a cool story.
Just a few months later I went back to Paris, I took the obligatory trip to show my dancer partner Paris’ Red Light District. We found our way to the Moulin Rouge, and were just casually strolling the arcade in front of the entrance. I noticed that there was a time line of momentous occasions in the scope of the past 150 years or so of the night club.
We walked from one end to the next. There were no more that 25 occasions marked, some being
architecturally important, some relating to french history, and world wars. There, just about half-way through was a small faded photograph of some of the Cotton Club dancers in all their glory. I couldn’t believe it – all of a sudden I remembered that conversation with Frankie on that Sunday morning, and realized that for the 20 or 25 momentous occasions that had ever happened at the Moulin Rouge, I had sat and talked about one of them with someone who was actually there, some 70 years before.
I just stood there and felt a chill come over me. I couldn’t believe it. It was one degree of
separation between me and history. Then I slowly turned around and saw the little hotel that
Frankie had told me about, just a few months before, with the exact details as he had described. It blew me away. Just blew me away .
Nicolle Wood
Chicago, IL
Monday, April 27, 2009
Amazing Lives
I met Frankie dancing in Port Townsend, Washington. He was one of those amazing people who are talked about - with a love approaching awe - but are too busy to toot their own horn. I was on a steep learning curve to catch up with my partner and stick with our class. Frankie and the other instructors helped put me completely at ease, so I didn't fret about keeping up, just learned and enjoyed everything as much as I could.
That was a part of his gift, of course: such a welcoming, gentle presence that even novice dancers could relax and enjoy, if only for a few moments, the feeling of dancing effortlessly. So much fun, why bother looking at your feet anyway?
Nobody gets the nickname "Musclehead" without earning it. I'd love to hear about what he was like in his younger days. That story about his wife from the '70's was nice. Anybody know more about his earlier years? Please speak up.
What I remembered best was just doing it. Learning about swing, black-bottom, or other "historic" dances, not in words, but by trying them. I treasure the balance, adaptability, and poise I learned while dancing, and use it for my ongoing work in hands-on teaching. (I'm looking for good rhythmic "working songs" if you know any.)
I had an Uncle Julian, about the same vintage as Frankie. While Frankie was dancing, Julian was playing the trumpet: in dance bands, or standing on his head on "Ripley's Believe It Or Not." Later, when he "lost his chops," he took up drums and kept at it with an old-timer band.
When I was in my early twenties, Uncle Julian passed away. He played a gig the night before he died. I always thought that's how I wanted to go: singing, dancing, smiling, and laughing. It's not over 'til it's over.
There's something marvelous in the hearts of people who survive into their 90's and beyond. A friend calls them "spiritual elders:" people who've passed through the known stages of human life and are still with us on the great adventure. Everything they planned to do is done, or doesn't matter now: the rest is gravy! That's the best I can put it in words; I suspect they know quite a lot I don't, and there may be more to it than that. I do know that their presence is an immeasurable gift.
A smile from one of these folks lights up their whole face and yours too. Words fall by the wayside: I can't remember what (if anything) was said, but I carry that glow through the rest of my day. That grin says: You know, life is too good to waste.
My grandmother was starting to get there, but she died a little young to fully enjoy it (82). Now I'm actively seeking out older folks through volunteer work, and listening a lot better than I used to. Frankie did more for the world, just by being himself, dancing his best, and enjoying people thoroughly, than he could have by a million paper arguments.
When someone smiles more than he talks, and laughs more than he sleeps, you just know he's got a secret and you hope it's contagious.
Thanks, Frankie.
See if you can hook up with Uncle Julian and Grandma Enid, and get her to Shaddish with you. Tell them and all the folks up there we miss 'em, and we're doing fine.
-Erica Wisner
That was a part of his gift, of course: such a welcoming, gentle presence that even novice dancers could relax and enjoy, if only for a few moments, the feeling of dancing effortlessly. So much fun, why bother looking at your feet anyway?
Nobody gets the nickname "Musclehead" without earning it. I'd love to hear about what he was like in his younger days. That story about his wife from the '70's was nice. Anybody know more about his earlier years? Please speak up.
What I remembered best was just doing it. Learning about swing, black-bottom, or other "historic" dances, not in words, but by trying them. I treasure the balance, adaptability, and poise I learned while dancing, and use it for my ongoing work in hands-on teaching. (I'm looking for good rhythmic "working songs" if you know any.)
I had an Uncle Julian, about the same vintage as Frankie. While Frankie was dancing, Julian was playing the trumpet: in dance bands, or standing on his head on "Ripley's Believe It Or Not." Later, when he "lost his chops," he took up drums and kept at it with an old-timer band.
When I was in my early twenties, Uncle Julian passed away. He played a gig the night before he died. I always thought that's how I wanted to go: singing, dancing, smiling, and laughing. It's not over 'til it's over.
There's something marvelous in the hearts of people who survive into their 90's and beyond. A friend calls them "spiritual elders:" people who've passed through the known stages of human life and are still with us on the great adventure. Everything they planned to do is done, or doesn't matter now: the rest is gravy! That's the best I can put it in words; I suspect they know quite a lot I don't, and there may be more to it than that. I do know that their presence is an immeasurable gift.
A smile from one of these folks lights up their whole face and yours too. Words fall by the wayside: I can't remember what (if anything) was said, but I carry that glow through the rest of my day. That grin says: You know, life is too good to waste.
My grandmother was starting to get there, but she died a little young to fully enjoy it (82). Now I'm actively seeking out older folks through volunteer work, and listening a lot better than I used to. Frankie did more for the world, just by being himself, dancing his best, and enjoying people thoroughly, than he could have by a million paper arguments.
When someone smiles more than he talks, and laughs more than he sleeps, you just know he's got a secret and you hope it's contagious.
Thanks, Frankie.
See if you can hook up with Uncle Julian and Grandma Enid, and get her to Shaddish with you. Tell them and all the folks up there we miss 'em, and we're doing fine.
-Erica Wisner
Harald Gaerttner, Boogie-Baeren, Munich, Germany
It was in 1992 in Herraeng were I met Frankie for the first time. Beside the music he was for sure the main reason that I fell in love with the Lindy Hop. I had never before met a guy who still was sooo young at the age of 78. One of the happiest people I ever met. It seemed he enjoyed and loved every minute of his life. From there I had the pleasure to meet him and learn from him several times over the next years.
We all knew that this day would come someday but it's still so unbelievable that he won't be around anymore. I will miss his happy smile when he danced and his laughter when he told us stories from his early years. I think I must have heard some of those for at least ten times ... but I enjoyed them every time again.
I was in Herraeng the year before he got his artifical hip. He hardly could walk ... but he still could dance almost like before. And then he came back the next year. One year older but looking at least 2 years younger ... dancing, dancing, dancing!
It was that time when it felt like he would never leave us. He got 85, 90 and he still danced. It was in 2006 when I met him for the last time. It was so great to have him back at the Boogie-Baeren Whitsun Camp after many years. So great to see that already the next generation (many who never met him before) felt the same fascination that I felt since I met him for the first time. When we said goodbye in that year I didn't know that it was the last time that I would ever meet him.
I believe that leaving this place isn't the end of it. And I am sure that his special spirit will leave a mark at his next destination too.
We all knew that this day would come someday but it's still so unbelievable that he won't be around anymore. I will miss his happy smile when he danced and his laughter when he told us stories from his early years. I think I must have heard some of those for at least ten times ... but I enjoyed them every time again.
I was in Herraeng the year before he got his artifical hip. He hardly could walk ... but he still could dance almost like before. And then he came back the next year. One year older but looking at least 2 years younger ... dancing, dancing, dancing!
It was that time when it felt like he would never leave us. He got 85, 90 and he still danced. It was in 2006 when I met him for the last time. It was so great to have him back at the Boogie-Baeren Whitsun Camp after many years. So great to see that already the next generation (many who never met him before) felt the same fascination that I felt since I met him for the first time. When we said goodbye in that year I didn't know that it was the last time that I would ever meet him.
I believe that leaving this place isn't the end of it. And I am sure that his special spirit will leave a mark at his next destination too.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Susan B. Carr-Sparkman & "Suzie-Q Swing Productions" - CT
I remember the first time I met Frankie. I was a new dancer, and was with a friend in New Haven. Frankie was visiting for the day. It was not as memorable as the second time I saw him, nor our brief but memorable interactions over the next 12 years.
I remember being in Herräng during a class, and Frankie walked quietly into the back of the class. It was 1999 and it was my second year of serious dancing. Frankie wasn’t teaching; he was just coming in to watch and say hello. It was amazing; the feel of the entire room changed. He lit up the room, lit up every face in the room and the energy actually changed. All he had to do was walk in, nod hello and smile. You could feel his presence and his charisma.
At (I think) the very first Swingin’ New England, Frankie hadn't brought a follower. Recognizing me from Herräng, he put out his hand and said, “would you mind..." seeking assistnce. I was beyond thrilled.
Two years later, while running Suzie-Q Swing Productions, I wanted my students and members of the local community to experience “Frankie.” In 2001, Suzie-Q Swing Productions, along with the East Lyme High School Swing Club, brought Frankie to Connecticut for “Frankie Manning Weekend in Connecticut.” As the organizer, I was blessed to have spent time with him during the weekend. Working with him was undoubtedly one of the highlights of my dance career and members of the local community were taken in, as most are, with the experience of having him so close.
Frankie was charming, absolutely entertaining, and so full of life. Almost 300 people from 10 states between Washington, D.C. and Maine traveled to see Frankie. People who didn’t dance bought tickets just so sit on the side and watch “the King of Swing” at his best.
From that weekend, I have endless thoughts. Two things, however, come to mind, both of which impressed upon me what a kind, polite and gracious man Frankie is. During a lunch break, Frankie, my co-sponsor (a guy) and I went to my co-sponsor’s family home for lunch. When we got out of the car, the co-sponsor, no doubt nervous to have Frankie at his home, got out of the car and bolted upon the front steps. Frankie looked at him, looked at me, then extended his arm and graciously said, “After you, dear.” Here he was, 87 years old and still extending old fashioned courtesies. At one point, we were walking across a parking lot, when he put his hand on the small of my back and “led me” over a curb. It was true graciousness that I had not seen in a while and did not see regularly until I met my husband. He does the same thing.
Frankie, his passions, energies and overall good nature are the strongest and most beloved aspects of Lindy Hop. He will always be part of this dance; it's infused with his good nature, and he brings the best into it. It’s difficult to think of someone who has been in my regular thoughts, whether I’m dancing or not, is undergoing a difficult time. All the best, Frankie, we love you and are thinking good thoughts.
Love, Susan B. Carr-Sparkman – Connecticut
I remember being in Herräng during a class, and Frankie walked quietly into the back of the class. It was 1999 and it was my second year of serious dancing. Frankie wasn’t teaching; he was just coming in to watch and say hello. It was amazing; the feel of the entire room changed. He lit up the room, lit up every face in the room and the energy actually changed. All he had to do was walk in, nod hello and smile. You could feel his presence and his charisma.
At (I think) the very first Swingin’ New England, Frankie hadn't brought a follower. Recognizing me from Herräng, he put out his hand and said, “would you mind..." seeking assistnce. I was beyond thrilled.
Two years later, while running Suzie-Q Swing Productions, I wanted my students and members of the local community to experience “Frankie.” In 2001, Suzie-Q Swing Productions, along with the East Lyme High School Swing Club, brought Frankie to Connecticut for “Frankie Manning Weekend in Connecticut.” As the organizer, I was blessed to have spent time with him during the weekend. Working with him was undoubtedly one of the highlights of my dance career and members of the local community were taken in, as most are, with the experience of having him so close.
Frankie was charming, absolutely entertaining, and so full of life. Almost 300 people from 10 states between Washington, D.C. and Maine traveled to see Frankie. People who didn’t dance bought tickets just so sit on the side and watch “the King of Swing” at his best.
From that weekend, I have endless thoughts. Two things, however, come to mind, both of which impressed upon me what a kind, polite and gracious man Frankie is. During a lunch break, Frankie, my co-sponsor (a guy) and I went to my co-sponsor’s family home for lunch. When we got out of the car, the co-sponsor, no doubt nervous to have Frankie at his home, got out of the car and bolted upon the front steps. Frankie looked at him, looked at me, then extended his arm and graciously said, “After you, dear.” Here he was, 87 years old and still extending old fashioned courtesies. At one point, we were walking across a parking lot, when he put his hand on the small of my back and “led me” over a curb. It was true graciousness that I had not seen in a while and did not see regularly until I met my husband. He does the same thing.
Frankie, his passions, energies and overall good nature are the strongest and most beloved aspects of Lindy Hop. He will always be part of this dance; it's infused with his good nature, and he brings the best into it. It’s difficult to think of someone who has been in my regular thoughts, whether I’m dancing or not, is undergoing a difficult time. All the best, Frankie, we love you and are thinking good thoughts.
Love, Susan B. Carr-Sparkman – Connecticut
Steve Aupperle, Rockford, IL
My story is short, but I hope it is meaningful. I started dancing two years ago after prodding from a family friend. Little did I know, that it would become as big a part of my life as it has. Last year, I started hearing and reading about this 'Frankie' guy and how Lindy got its start. "Holy cow, this guy is 94 and still doing this?" Knowing that has been an inspiration in my life and in my dancing.
Frankie, I finally met you at Lindyfest in Houston this past March. You were the reason I went. The workshops and dancing were great. But it truly was an honor to meet you. Hearing you call the Shim Sham was fantastic. Your lecture on Sunday made me feel like I was really there all those years ago. Thank you for teaching. Thank you for giving to this dance and this community of dancers. Thank you for the dance as we know it today.
Frankie, I finally met you at Lindyfest in Houston this past March. You were the reason I went. The workshops and dancing were great. But it truly was an honor to meet you. Hearing you call the Shim Sham was fantastic. Your lecture on Sunday made me feel like I was really there all those years ago. Thank you for teaching. Thank you for giving to this dance and this community of dancers. Thank you for the dance as we know it today.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Sing Lim, Singapore
I met Frankie a year or so after I started learning Lindy Hop with Ryan Francois in London. I never really had a chance to study with Frankie at that time but I was impressed by his amazing manner and kindness. When we organized the Swing Masters Jam, I got to know Frankie better, especially through his amazing stories! It was so hard to imagine this humble man was the creator of such important historical events.
Through the last 18 years, my friendship with Frankie has grown and I was so excited to introduce him to Singapore in 1998.
The thought of Frankie keeps me humble.
And as a dancer, Frankie still out-dances every one in the room. But beyond being such a great dancer, Frankie is a great human being. The ultimate gentleman, Frankie would insist not only that he carry his own bag, but mine too. It was a game we would play, how to maneuver it so that we could carry his bag without him knowing. He opens my door, pulls out my seat and gets pretty annoyed if I try to do so for him.
The picture is from 1992, taken at Jitterbugs in London.
Frankie inspired me to be a better dancer and now he inspires me to be a better person.
What an amazing guy.
Sing Lim
Singapore
Through the last 18 years, my friendship with Frankie has grown and I was so excited to introduce him to Singapore in 1998.
The thought of Frankie keeps me humble.
And as a dancer, Frankie still out-dances every one in the room. But beyond being such a great dancer, Frankie is a great human being. The ultimate gentleman, Frankie would insist not only that he carry his own bag, but mine too. It was a game we would play, how to maneuver it so that we could carry his bag without him knowing. He opens my door, pulls out my seat and gets pretty annoyed if I try to do so for him.
The picture is from 1992, taken at Jitterbugs in London.
Frankie inspired me to be a better dancer and now he inspires me to be a better person.
What an amazing guy.
Sing Lim
Singapore
Isgard Hueck, San Diego, CA
Dear Frankie.
I would like to share how much you inspire me, and how often you touched my life with your sparkling enthusiasm.
Born in Germany, I first met you in Germany in Munich, when Markus Koch brought you into the Boogie-Baren Boogie-Woogie camp, when you were ONLY 79 years old and could not dance, because of your hip. You were telling stories about the times in the '30s and how Lindy-hop came into life. It was an eye-opening experience for me to just listen to you and how much dance meant in the old days. It was a lifestyle, not only a hobby, and many, many people have followed you in your footsteps in the following decades and almost a century now.... For me, I first found out, that there is a lot more to swing dance than just Boogie-Woogie.... In any case, I was so inspired by your life all involving dance and your come-back, after you had your hip surgery, as a dance teacher, a performer, a raw model of happy living and most of all as the man, who can be in love with his dance partner for 2 minutes on the floor. It's all about making your dance partner feel good. That is your message all along. Your sparkling eyes and your encouraging smile, while dancing with you, say more than any steps I could ever learn.
When I moved to the United States, I instantly experienced having a family – a dance family – everywhere I went. I was never a stranger and all this is only because YOU started it. Thank you so much for the dance love that infected the world and made me feel home, wherever I was. I had the pleasure to be one of the 87 women you danced with in Boston at your 87th birthday party and I also enjoyed dancing with you in many camps and workshops over the years.
Just remembering "The HOP the Millennium" in Mexico in 2000 (which is where the photo is from) for the turn of the millennium was one of those experiences, that only happened, because you were the inspiration to make a whole world dance. Pretty much all of us danced for about 25 days non-stop in a row and still did not want to stop.
Though, the most memorable (and embarrassing) memory I have dancing with you, was at Swingout Northwest for another turn of another year. At the end of the camp, there was a teacher's jam and it happened to happen that you picked me for your partner in this jam. Off course, I was very nervous to be with the most loved man in swing dance in the spotlight and must not have paid enough attention to your lead... as it happened, I fell on my butt while you were pulling me in for a swing-out... well, I will never forget this moment and I am sure it is on video somewhere in the archives. But, I am proud that I can say, I danced with you and today I really laugh about this incident. All I remember are your sparkling eyes, when you enter the dance floor. I call it dance passion infecting everyone in the room like a virus.
You started – almost a century ago – to spread this virus in the world and it is a good virus and we all will spread it further, until all generations will know how dance can be a life full of joy and happiness.
Today I live in the United States and have a 2 year old son. He is already doing the Charleston steps with me. I will make sure that he also will experience the wonders of swing dance, when time comes in his life. So, keep on inspiring us, Frankie....and thank you for your gift to the world, it's truly unique.
Happy Birthday to your 95th year of swing dancing.
with Lindy-Love
Isgard
(one of your long-term German-American admirers from San Diego)
Isgard Hueck
San Diego,
I would like to share how much you inspire me, and how often you touched my life with your sparkling enthusiasm.
Born in Germany, I first met you in Germany in Munich, when Markus Koch brought you into the Boogie-Baren Boogie-Woogie camp, when you were ONLY 79 years old and could not dance, because of your hip. You were telling stories about the times in the '30s and how Lindy-hop came into life. It was an eye-opening experience for me to just listen to you and how much dance meant in the old days. It was a lifestyle, not only a hobby, and many, many people have followed you in your footsteps in the following decades and almost a century now.... For me, I first found out, that there is a lot more to swing dance than just Boogie-Woogie.... In any case, I was so inspired by your life all involving dance and your come-back, after you had your hip surgery, as a dance teacher, a performer, a raw model of happy living and most of all as the man, who can be in love with his dance partner for 2 minutes on the floor. It's all about making your dance partner feel good. That is your message all along. Your sparkling eyes and your encouraging smile, while dancing with you, say more than any steps I could ever learn.
When I moved to the United States, I instantly experienced having a family – a dance family – everywhere I went. I was never a stranger and all this is only because YOU started it. Thank you so much for the dance love that infected the world and made me feel home, wherever I was. I had the pleasure to be one of the 87 women you danced with in Boston at your 87th birthday party and I also enjoyed dancing with you in many camps and workshops over the years.
Just remembering "The HOP the Millennium" in Mexico in 2000 (which is where the photo is from) for the turn of the millennium was one of those experiences, that only happened, because you were the inspiration to make a whole world dance. Pretty much all of us danced for about 25 days non-stop in a row and still did not want to stop.
Though, the most memorable (and embarrassing) memory I have dancing with you, was at Swingout Northwest for another turn of another year. At the end of the camp, there was a teacher's jam and it happened to happen that you picked me for your partner in this jam. Off course, I was very nervous to be with the most loved man in swing dance in the spotlight and must not have paid enough attention to your lead... as it happened, I fell on my butt while you were pulling me in for a swing-out... well, I will never forget this moment and I am sure it is on video somewhere in the archives. But, I am proud that I can say, I danced with you and today I really laugh about this incident. All I remember are your sparkling eyes, when you enter the dance floor. I call it dance passion infecting everyone in the room like a virus.
You started – almost a century ago – to spread this virus in the world and it is a good virus and we all will spread it further, until all generations will know how dance can be a life full of joy and happiness.
Today I live in the United States and have a 2 year old son. He is already doing the Charleston steps with me. I will make sure that he also will experience the wonders of swing dance, when time comes in his life. So, keep on inspiring us, Frankie....and thank you for your gift to the world, it's truly unique.
Happy Birthday to your 95th year of swing dancing.
with Lindy-Love
Isgard
(one of your long-term German-American admirers from San Diego)
Isgard Hueck
San Diego,
Emily Belt, San Diego, CA
Frankie, it’s nice to hear that you are now in the Dance Hall of Fame in Saratoga Springs, NY. Years ago, I visited there and thought how you were missing.
You have been so very important to me – both personally as well as in helping me develop my dancing. Kind of like a grandfather, but much more so, because you’re so young at heart! I have so many stories of the ways you’ve touched me deeply...
Love,
Emily Belt
San Diego
[note – written by me based on conversations and an email from Emily, because she was unavailable at the time I sent this. – Deborah Huisken]
You have been so very important to me – both personally as well as in helping me develop my dancing. Kind of like a grandfather, but much more so, because you’re so young at heart! I have so many stories of the ways you’ve touched me deeply...
Love,
Emily Belt
San Diego
[note – written by me based on conversations and an email from Emily, because she was unavailable at the time I sent this. – Deborah Huisken]
Irv Refkin, San Diego, CA
I remember Frankie when he was in San Diego at Champion Ballroom. I was taking dancing lessons from Liz O’Grady and Frankie inspired me to work a little harder. He was 94 and I was a kid of 87. I thought, “Yep I can do that if I practice.”
I’m not as good as Frankie, but then, I only started doing the lindy about 15 years ago.
I am still 87 years old, and the last time I danced was last Sunday with my friend and teacher Liz O’Grady and Emily Belt who will be both going to New York for your 95th birthday party.
Irv Refkin
San Diego
I’m not as good as Frankie, but then, I only started doing the lindy about 15 years ago.
I am still 87 years old, and the last time I danced was last Sunday with my friend and teacher Liz O’Grady and Emily Belt who will be both going to New York for your 95th birthday party.
Irv Refkin
San Diego
Alison Mozer, Amherst, MA
In 1998, I was recently divorced with two young children who were now spending time every other weekend with their father. Finally I had space and time to rediscover my self and my passions. Dancing was always one of them. From beginning to walk on my tippy toes to professional training as a ballet, modern, and jazz dancer, movement was an essential part of my life and self-expression.
Growing up in the 50s I had always watched movies and television shows, like American Bandstand, portraying teens swiftly swing dancing in what was known to me as ‘Lindy’ and ‘Jitterbug’. I couldn’t wait to grow up and have so much fun with a partner. Most of my training was dancing solo or in groups with little contact and improvisational play. I also was surrounded by jazz, swing music, and blues. My mother played Duke Ellington, Billy Holiday, Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa and Tommy Dorsey on our stereo. By the time I became a teen, it was the 60’s. Rock and Motown were in. And although we could groove quite erotically and whimsically around each other or in funky line dances, coordinated partner dancing was out. Jazz went ‘out’ too, interesting, but difficult to dance to.
So now it was about 30 years later, and I hear that Frankie Manning was coming to Northampton, MA to teach a weekend of workshops and do a presentation of the origins of Lindy Hop. I knew little about Frankie, but I knew I was dying to dance, and finally learn ‘real’ lindy hop. I wished to perfect my social connection skills both in dance and dating.
Memories of the weekend are still stamped with great clarity in my brain. Frankie was inspiring, a joy, an older man with such verve, vitality, and sensuality I could have no excuse for letting mine go while just in my 40s.
Since then Frankie and I have had numerous opportunities to connect. I attended his 85th birthday at Roseland Dance hall, celebrating with folks from around the world, back in the city I was born in. I was one of the lucky ladies to dance with him then, although I’m sure he could not remember (nor barely keep count).
I’ve been able to listen to Frankie’s stories at dance camps such as Beantown, workshops in Boston, ALHC, and in our beloved Pioneer Valley in Massachusetts. It has always been a treat when I have been chosen to demonstrate as his partner.
In 2003, I introduced my young daughter Mariel Adams, then 13, to the world of swing. That summer, at Swing Out New Hampshire, she became so enthralled that is has become a life passion for her too. Luckily she has had the opportunity to meet, learn from, dance, and hang with Frankie (Dawn and Norma too) and most of the top international Lindy instructors and dancers. Our shared love of dance and Lindy Hop has helped to keep us close throughout her teen years and offer a healthy fun way to spend leisure time.
In October of 2004, back in my hometown of N.Y, we were sure to make the historical Count Basie Centennial event. I have photos of young Mariel- one of the newest on the scene with Frankie, Norma, Dawn, and Steven Mitchell, one of her first mentors.
Now in high School Mariel was eager to share her knowledge and passion. We began a club the –The Hurricane Swingers - to educate interested students, and invited Bill Borgida to spark it off. And when the Amherst Regional High chose Urinetown for its yearly musical, Mariel and dancers were ready to choreograph and perform some Lindy and Charleston routines for the shows.
Then in May 2005 we wrote a grant to bring Frankie to Amherst High school for an assembly and workshops. We wished to introduce the students and community to the now 92-year old dance ambassador and the Lindy. Frankie’s ability to represent a generation and shed a personal perspective on the history of the times was inspiring, and we were able to get some of those ‘mostly-hip-hop-exposed’ teens to dance and engage with each other. As Frankie spoke and showed some of his favorite clips the students and teachers were intently focused and responded with appropriate sounds of appreciation and applause. Mariel, and dancers from her club, joined with Pioneer Valley Performing Arts students, led by Tricia Lea, in Lindy Chorus and Big Apple routines to honor Frankie.
Though Frankie has experienced many of these exciting and engaging moments in his travels and teaching, this certainly was a significant event for both me, my daughter Mari, and the community. Afterwards I invited Frankie to my home and he shared tea and more stories of his unexpected stay in Argentina when the war broke out, before I drove him to the train station to head back to New York.
Mari and I also got to celebrate Mother’s Day together with Frankie, and honor his birthday, at the Lindy League of Western MA community organized workshops that were scheduled to coincide with Frankie’s trip to lead the assembly.
And when Frankie came for a book signing of Happy Feet at Michelson’s Gallery in Northampton, we were there to shim sham along with others in his honor.
Of course in thinking of the impact Frankie has had on our lives, we also need to think and thank all the teachers and event organizers, Judy Pritchett, and Cynthia Millman who brought Frankie to various venues and recorded and documented his life and work. They also helped us learn and compile materials and reference from web sites to share with others.
So what now? Frankie’s 95th. It has been a decade since I began to learn and enjoy Lindy more ‘seriously’. It has brought lots of joy, music, and community into my and my daughter’s life. Now Mariel is off at college, organizing clubs and teaching to pass on her love and the love we all share for this dance. We plan to be back in NYC to celebrate in May. We are ever so grateful. We love you Frankie!
The spirit moves us on.
Alison Ozer March 2009
Amherst, MA
Growing up in the 50s I had always watched movies and television shows, like American Bandstand, portraying teens swiftly swing dancing in what was known to me as ‘Lindy’ and ‘Jitterbug’. I couldn’t wait to grow up and have so much fun with a partner. Most of my training was dancing solo or in groups with little contact and improvisational play. I also was surrounded by jazz, swing music, and blues. My mother played Duke Ellington, Billy Holiday, Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa and Tommy Dorsey on our stereo. By the time I became a teen, it was the 60’s. Rock and Motown were in. And although we could groove quite erotically and whimsically around each other or in funky line dances, coordinated partner dancing was out. Jazz went ‘out’ too, interesting, but difficult to dance to.
So now it was about 30 years later, and I hear that Frankie Manning was coming to Northampton, MA to teach a weekend of workshops and do a presentation of the origins of Lindy Hop. I knew little about Frankie, but I knew I was dying to dance, and finally learn ‘real’ lindy hop. I wished to perfect my social connection skills both in dance and dating.
Memories of the weekend are still stamped with great clarity in my brain. Frankie was inspiring, a joy, an older man with such verve, vitality, and sensuality I could have no excuse for letting mine go while just in my 40s.
Since then Frankie and I have had numerous opportunities to connect. I attended his 85th birthday at Roseland Dance hall, celebrating with folks from around the world, back in the city I was born in. I was one of the lucky ladies to dance with him then, although I’m sure he could not remember (nor barely keep count).
I’ve been able to listen to Frankie’s stories at dance camps such as Beantown, workshops in Boston, ALHC, and in our beloved Pioneer Valley in Massachusetts. It has always been a treat when I have been chosen to demonstrate as his partner.
In 2003, I introduced my young daughter Mariel Adams, then 13, to the world of swing. That summer, at Swing Out New Hampshire, she became so enthralled that is has become a life passion for her too. Luckily she has had the opportunity to meet, learn from, dance, and hang with Frankie (Dawn and Norma too) and most of the top international Lindy instructors and dancers. Our shared love of dance and Lindy Hop has helped to keep us close throughout her teen years and offer a healthy fun way to spend leisure time.
In October of 2004, back in my hometown of N.Y, we were sure to make the historical Count Basie Centennial event. I have photos of young Mariel- one of the newest on the scene with Frankie, Norma, Dawn, and Steven Mitchell, one of her first mentors.
Now in high School Mariel was eager to share her knowledge and passion. We began a club the –The Hurricane Swingers - to educate interested students, and invited Bill Borgida to spark it off. And when the Amherst Regional High chose Urinetown for its yearly musical, Mariel and dancers were ready to choreograph and perform some Lindy and Charleston routines for the shows.
Then in May 2005 we wrote a grant to bring Frankie to Amherst High school for an assembly and workshops. We wished to introduce the students and community to the now 92-year old dance ambassador and the Lindy. Frankie’s ability to represent a generation and shed a personal perspective on the history of the times was inspiring, and we were able to get some of those ‘mostly-hip-hop-exposed’ teens to dance and engage with each other. As Frankie spoke and showed some of his favorite clips the students and teachers were intently focused and responded with appropriate sounds of appreciation and applause. Mariel, and dancers from her club, joined with Pioneer Valley Performing Arts students, led by Tricia Lea, in Lindy Chorus and Big Apple routines to honor Frankie.
Though Frankie has experienced many of these exciting and engaging moments in his travels and teaching, this certainly was a significant event for both me, my daughter Mari, and the community. Afterwards I invited Frankie to my home and he shared tea and more stories of his unexpected stay in Argentina when the war broke out, before I drove him to the train station to head back to New York.
Mari and I also got to celebrate Mother’s Day together with Frankie, and honor his birthday, at the Lindy League of Western MA community organized workshops that were scheduled to coincide with Frankie’s trip to lead the assembly.
And when Frankie came for a book signing of Happy Feet at Michelson’s Gallery in Northampton, we were there to shim sham along with others in his honor.
Of course in thinking of the impact Frankie has had on our lives, we also need to think and thank all the teachers and event organizers, Judy Pritchett, and Cynthia Millman who brought Frankie to various venues and recorded and documented his life and work. They also helped us learn and compile materials and reference from web sites to share with others.
So what now? Frankie’s 95th. It has been a decade since I began to learn and enjoy Lindy more ‘seriously’. It has brought lots of joy, music, and community into my and my daughter’s life. Now Mariel is off at college, organizing clubs and teaching to pass on her love and the love we all share for this dance. We plan to be back in NYC to celebrate in May. We are ever so grateful. We love you Frankie!
The spirit moves us on.
Alison Ozer March 2009
Amherst, MA
Cleve Gardner, CT
I do not have that much to add about Frankie, but I did have a number of lovely dances with his wife when I was in college in the late 70's and went down into the city someplace for a day of classes and an evening of dancing. She gave me a great piece of advice that I have always remembered thru my 35 years of swing dancing, She told me to just treat a partner like a flower, hold her firmly but gently and tell her she is pretty and that she smells nice and you will do just fine.
Cleve Gardner
Connecticut
Cleve Gardner
Connecticut
Rich Michelson, Northampton, MA
When I began writing my children’s book Happy Feet, (Harcourt, 2005) about the Savoy Ballroom, I needed to choose a hero for the child in my story (nicknamed “Happy Feet” because he was born on March 12, 1926, on the same day that the Savoy opened).
I don’t dance, and I was not a part of the Lindy Hop movement, but I was drawn to pictures I’d seen of Frankie Manning, and I somehow guessed that he would be the sort of man a kid would and should look up to. Still, I had no idea what a perfect choice I had stumbled upon. I was drawn to the subject of the Savoy, because many of my books are concerned with racial issues, and I was drawn to a place where, as Happy Feet’s daddy tells him, “Ain’t nobody better than nobody! Salt and pepper- -equals! Cats and chicks—equal! Everybody just coming to dance.”
Artist E. B. Lewis painted the pictures for the book, and came to the reception to meet Frankie.
When Frankie agreed to meet me at a diner in Brooklyn, I was amazed at his love of life, and animated spirit. I invited him to be a guest of honor at the book publication party, and he “stole the show.” We have never had such a fun, exciting opening reception. He turned the somewhat staid R. Michelson Galleries into a dance hall and had everyone on the floor in no time.
I’d booked Frankie a hotel room in Northampton MA, and when I and my staff were tired and ready to go to sleep Frankie was just getting started. He ended up driving the 3 hours back to Brooklyn. His night was still young!
One of the happiest days of my life was when the National Museum of Dance in Saratoga Springs asked me to introduce Frankie on the day he was inducted into the Hall of Fame. I have written many books, but none led me so unexpectedly into a world I had thought I was only to imagining. Like my main character, I continue to look up to and love Frankie Musclehead manning.
Rich Michelson
Northampton, MA
I don’t dance, and I was not a part of the Lindy Hop movement, but I was drawn to pictures I’d seen of Frankie Manning, and I somehow guessed that he would be the sort of man a kid would and should look up to. Still, I had no idea what a perfect choice I had stumbled upon. I was drawn to the subject of the Savoy, because many of my books are concerned with racial issues, and I was drawn to a place where, as Happy Feet’s daddy tells him, “Ain’t nobody better than nobody! Salt and pepper- -equals! Cats and chicks—equal! Everybody just coming to dance.”
Artist E. B. Lewis painted the pictures for the book, and came to the reception to meet Frankie.
When Frankie agreed to meet me at a diner in Brooklyn, I was amazed at his love of life, and animated spirit. I invited him to be a guest of honor at the book publication party, and he “stole the show.” We have never had such a fun, exciting opening reception. He turned the somewhat staid R. Michelson Galleries into a dance hall and had everyone on the floor in no time.
I’d booked Frankie a hotel room in Northampton MA, and when I and my staff were tired and ready to go to sleep Frankie was just getting started. He ended up driving the 3 hours back to Brooklyn. His night was still young!
One of the happiest days of my life was when the National Museum of Dance in Saratoga Springs asked me to introduce Frankie on the day he was inducted into the Hall of Fame. I have written many books, but none led me so unexpectedly into a world I had thought I was only to imagining. Like my main character, I continue to look up to and love Frankie Musclehead manning.
Rich Michelson
Northampton, MA
Deb Huisken, Tucson, Montague and London
Ah, Frankie. You've had such a powerful impact on so many people's lives - the above is just a tiny sampling. And all just by being who you are and doing what you love. That's what struck me about you the first time I ever saw you, tho I didn't understand it at the time. How unassuming you were, yet how gentle with one of newbie dancers (me!) that you selected from the crowded dance class and brought up to demonstrate a step with. You showed the class what you wanted them to learn, then took a minute to reconnect with me, who you didn't know/had never met, to make sure I was ok, before sending me back into the class. A powerful lesson for one who's shy in front of crowds and therefore apt to do something awkward - you showed me with that simple moment the value and importance of taking care of the person right next to you as well as the big group surrounding you, and how little time it takes to do it.
I've gotten to know you better over the years since (that was in 1989), had the pleasure of spending a few extended bits of time with you driving you here or there on your travels, or dancing in New York when you were home for a brief window, and I always knew that I got the best job, being your chauffeur, because it meant I got to spend that bit of time getting to know you a bit better.
You know how it is as we start to get older - our bodies change, they don't do what they used to be able to do so easily nor so well, or so we think. And it's tempting to slow down, take it easy, leave it to others to do. Whenever I've been tempted to do that, I've thought of you, and when I've heard others around me talk of giving up, I've told them about you, about my friend Frankie who travels the world in his 80s and 90s, teaching a dance he'd given up for many years, because kids found him and pulled him out of his dance retirement and said "we want you to show us what you know". And how generously you've shared that, with so many young people! In Phoenix this past February (2009) I don't know of you heard the current World Lindy Hop Champion, Max from France, comment how much of an impact you've had on his life, what an inspiration you've been. He's in his 20s.
The world - my world - is a much better place for you having been in it, Frankie. Wherever and whenever this next piece of your journey takes you, go well, knowing that you have shared and created a lot of love around you, and opened more than a few minds, lightened more than a few burdened hearts, and lit far more than a few smiles.
I'm including my favorite picture of all time, taken in Oslo, Norway at the First World Lindy Hop Championships. I didn't compete - would never consider myself good enough to. And I remember feeling a bit out of sorts that night, a bit on the sidelines when I wanted to be center stage but didn't know how. Then you asked me to dance, during a quiet moment in the proceedings. And damned if you didn't make me feel like the most special person in the room. You were all the audience I needed, because you so effortlessly gave appreciation in full measure. Such a gift you have, and you've always given it so freely.
The second photo is of you and Mickey Davidson and one of her troupe in New York at the Savoy Anniversary in 2006 - that's you, laughing and welcoming people, always making the circle of love ever wider...
with love and a more open heart for having known you,
Deb Huisken
Tucson, Montague, and London
I've gotten to know you better over the years since (that was in 1989), had the pleasure of spending a few extended bits of time with you driving you here or there on your travels, or dancing in New York when you were home for a brief window, and I always knew that I got the best job, being your chauffeur, because it meant I got to spend that bit of time getting to know you a bit better.
You know how it is as we start to get older - our bodies change, they don't do what they used to be able to do so easily nor so well, or so we think. And it's tempting to slow down, take it easy, leave it to others to do. Whenever I've been tempted to do that, I've thought of you, and when I've heard others around me talk of giving up, I've told them about you, about my friend Frankie who travels the world in his 80s and 90s, teaching a dance he'd given up for many years, because kids found him and pulled him out of his dance retirement and said "we want you to show us what you know". And how generously you've shared that, with so many young people! In Phoenix this past February (2009) I don't know of you heard the current World Lindy Hop Champion, Max from France, comment how much of an impact you've had on his life, what an inspiration you've been. He's in his 20s.
The world - my world - is a much better place for you having been in it, Frankie. Wherever and whenever this next piece of your journey takes you, go well, knowing that you have shared and created a lot of love around you, and opened more than a few minds, lightened more than a few burdened hearts, and lit far more than a few smiles.
I'm including my favorite picture of all time, taken in Oslo, Norway at the First World Lindy Hop Championships. I didn't compete - would never consider myself good enough to. And I remember feeling a bit out of sorts that night, a bit on the sidelines when I wanted to be center stage but didn't know how. Then you asked me to dance, during a quiet moment in the proceedings. And damned if you didn't make me feel like the most special person in the room. You were all the audience I needed, because you so effortlessly gave appreciation in full measure. Such a gift you have, and you've always given it so freely.
The second photo is of you and Mickey Davidson and one of her troupe in New York at the Savoy Anniversary in 2006 - that's you, laughing and welcoming people, always making the circle of love ever wider...
with love and a more open heart for having known you,
Deb Huisken
Tucson, Montague, and London
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