Dixie Melody

By Marilynn Lynne Berry

This is a story based on the life of Doris Dixon who had a burning ambition to become a professional jazz singer during the 1930s.

Doris came from a privileged English background and was highly educated with her parents expectations of her going into the professions.

By luck, at a students reunion in a London nightclub, Doris created her chance to sing with a visiting American Jazz Band and was engaged by them on the spot as Dixie Dixon, their singer; subsequently treading the boards in America was no easy task. But Dixie met and sang with the greatest jazz /swing bands of

of her time. Because of her early demise, little is known about Dixie Dixon, so this book puts her right back there in the jazz spotlight where she fought so hard to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 11, 2006
• ISBN: 9781467016988

Marilynn Lynne Berry

Marilynn Lynne Berry was brought up in Birmingham, central England and became interested in literature at a very early age. However, Marilynn only started to write seriously 15 years ago, writing poetry and childrens books. More recently she made a conscious decision to write adult novels but stories everyone could understand and enjoy. Marilynn has a great fascination with World War 11 and the Glenn Miller style of swing music from that era, a period of time which interests not only Marilynn, but many people throughout the world, young and old. Currently, Marilynn lives in Rugby, central England with her family where she continues to write.

Book preview

This book is a story based on a real person, people, places, events and situations in the

big band swing era of the 1930’s. Parts of the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to

persons living or deceased is purely co-incidental and part of the author’s imagination.

© 2006 Marilynn Lynne Berry. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 8/17/2006

ISBN: 1-4259-0615-X (sc)

ISBN: 1-4259-0614-1 (dj)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-1698-8 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Looking Back

Chapter 2

A Star Is Born

Chapter 3

Moving On

Chapter 4

A Nightingale Sings At Connie’s Inn, Harlem, New York, America

Chapter 5

The Special Sunday

Chapter 6

Club 72

Chaper 7

Le Chateau Frontenac, Quebec

Chapter 8

The Wedding Day At Hilltops

Chapter 9

Honeymooning

Chapter 10

Home At Hilltops

Chapter 11

The Discovery

Chapter 12

Realisation

About The Author

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Marilynn Lynne Berry would like to thank her father and mentor for his endless patience whilst proof reading this novel also, Marilynn would like to thank Wim Zweekhorst, (Bill Baker & His Big Band From the Netherlands) for his expertise with musical advice and supplying band photographs.

A note of thanks also goes to Graham Wiseman Redding Photographers. Ltd. Rugby, England, for photographic expertise.

CHAPTER 1

Looking Back

I’m fed up! Theo pressed his nose against the cold window pane looking at the torrential rain outside flooding the village green where he so desperately wanted to play with all his friends. But it was no use, the green was waterlogged and he knew his friends would not be allowed out in such weather, and nor would he.

Why don’t you get your Monopoly game out, or your snakes and ladders game. I’ll play with you if you like. said Helen, his Mother, as she came out from the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel.

I’m bored with monopoly and snakes and ladders; I am so fed up. Theo once more looked out of the window at the pelting rain, it was surely in for the day. There was no way his friends would be playing on the green today.

Helen put her arms around Theo’s shoulders. Look, would you like me to tell you a story? Shall I get the old box of photographs down from the loft then we can look through them again?

Oh, alright; Mum, can you tell me the story again about great grandmother when she went to America to sing? Theo turned away from the window liking the prospect of the story, although he had heard it many times before, he never tired of hearing it. We can look at her photograph while you tell the story, she was so pretty wasn’t she Mum?

"Yes, she was Theo. I’ll go up to the loft and get the box down.

Helen placed the step ladder under the loft door climbing to the top step, and manoeuvred herself through the tiny entrance.

The photographs inside the box held a magical fascination for Helen as most of the people in the photographs were strangers to her except for one quite large photograph of a beautiful girl; it was Doris Dixon, her grandmother whom she had never met. Unfortunately, most of the family members who could have given explanations about the people in the photographs had died, including Helen’s parents when Helen was a small child. The people in the photographs presented a mystery to Helen, excepting of course for Doris Dixon whom Helen had researched and knew to be her grandmother.

I’ll pass the box down to you Theo, can you manage, it isn’t too heavy for you is it? Helen passed the box down to Theo. Helen pushed the ladder back inside the loft and made her way downstairs with Theo and the box.

Helen thought it strange that each time the box of photographs were looked at, Theo studied Doris’s photograph for the longest and wanted to know all about her.

Tell me the story of Doris again Mum. Theo took the large photograph of Doris running his fingers over the shape of her face saying, Wasn’t she pretty Mum?

Yes she was son, but surely you don’t want to hear her story again do you? You’ve heard it so many times, you must know it off by heart. Aren’t you bored with it? Helen put the box of photographs on the sofa spreading the photographs out. I just wish I knew who all these people were, but I do know Theo they are distant relations of ours, look! the captions on some say, In Canada, In Bermuda, In New York, but who are all these people? You can see Doris is on some of them, but I do so wish I knew who they were. Wouldn’t it be wonderful Theo if we could contact them, if they are still alive?

Maybe you ought to go on the Internet Mum and ask everyone? Theo looked inquisitively at Helen.

That would be OK Theo if we had an internet, and for that matter, a computer, anyway Mummy doesn’t know how to do that. But who would we ask for? You see Theo there are lots of problems with that.

Helen drew Theo close to her as he snuggled down beside her, waiting for his story about Doris.

Mum, go on, tell me again about Doris. I wish she was still here, she was so brave wasn’t she Mum to go to America at only 18 years old?

Yes, she was son, anyway are you comfortable, the story takes a long time, are you sure you won’t get bored? The others won’t be back for a few hours, so I suppose we’ve got time for the story. Well, as you know, Doris, your great grandmother, had always wanted to sing jazz, her Father Richard Dixon did not approve of her singing jazz at all, as he believed people should get a good job and be well educated. So he had sent her to all the best schools in Europe, one in particular, in Le Touquet, France for her education. He would have liked Doris to have become a lawyer, a doctor or something professional, so you can imagine Theo, he didn’t like the idea of her education going to waste and her becoming a Jazz singer, which was not by any means, a secure job.

But Mum, she wasn’t just a jazz singer, she was clever and talented wasn’t she? Theo cuddled Helen getting ready for the rest of the story. For once Theo was quiet and attentive listening as Helen started to tell the story of Doris Dixon, Dixie Dixon….

Well, one night the Dixon family were having dinner as usual and……………..

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The Dixon family dinner table was exquisitely set ready for a meal, displaying an artistic flower arrangement in the centre of the table. The four maids waited patiently to serve dinner to the family. It was 8pm, Richard Dixon looked at his pocket watch, smiling across the table at his adoring wife Mary, giving her one of his mischievous winks, which caused much amusement amongst the maids. Richard was a rotund, red faced, jolly sort of a man, his family being the most important reason to him for living. He did everything to make them comfortable and happy but he was quite a different person in business, ruthless and determined but he made sure his wife and daughter never saw this side of his character. He often saw his ruthless and determined ways in Doris; yes, she was very like her Father.

Richard Dixon said ‘Grace.’

Put your hands together young Peter, there’s a good chap, we are thanking God for our food son.

Doris clasped her son’s hands together as the young boy bowed his head shutting his eyes tightly to give thanks to the Lord. Doris thanked God she had given birth to Peter as he brought her so much joy. Yes, she was actually glad she had fallen in love at such a tender age, resulting in Peter; Doris regretted nothing. There was great debate and discussion over the meal mainly about music, which Doris adored particularly the new modern Dixieland ‘Jas’ sounds from America, spelt ‘Jas’ in the 1920’s. Doris just loved jazz music, it was young, vibrant and enthusiastic, like herself. She often paraded about the house singing the new Jazz songs at the top of her voice, much to the annoyance of her father.

Mary always marvelled at Doris’s ability to remember the words of the songs after only hearing them once. Doris certainly had a huge talent for music and singing which unfortunately her young Peter did not inherit. Doris was certain that one day she would become a great Jazz singer like the famous Bessie Smith or even Jolson himself. But being English and wanting this ambition was to say the least, daunting. Well educated young ladies just did not do that sort of thing.

Doris knew her Mother and Father would never approve of a her having a musical career, especially in Jazz as she had been so carefully educated. Father, she knew would have been horrified to have seen his only daughter dancing the ‘One Step’ and ‘Charleston’ and singing Jazz with her girl friends at the expensive finishing school in Le Touquet. She was sure if he had known, she would have been taken out of the school! Doris smiled to herself at the thought of her Father marching her out of the very correct finishing school for Young Ladies because of Dixieland Jazz.

The soup arrived, Richard tucked his napkin into the collar of his shirt, which always amused Doris.

I don’t understand what you young people see in all this so called Dixieland Jazz? It isn’t music, why, the players if you can call them that, make it up don’t they as they go along. Never heard anything like it in my life, such a noise, whatever would the great composers think, Chopin, Beethoven, Brahms eh? A load of rubbish if you ask me. Richard slurped his tomato soup, dipping his bread into it, much to Doris’s annoyance. It was a habit from his early Yorkshire days, and one he was not at all ashamed of or one he was not about to change for anyone. He was proud to be Yorkshire born and bred and saw nothing wrong in ‘bread dipping!"

Father, you obviously don’t know anything about Jazz. Doris said with a wide grin.

No, I don’t and don’t want to know anything about such music. Why, I never thought you would be interested in such discordant sounds Doris. Father, it’s called ‘improvisation.’ The player or singer takes a melody and well, sings around the melody and that’s called, improvisation. It is so clever not everyone is capable of doing it. Most of the Jazz singers can scat on a theme for ages, just wish I could get the chance…….

Richard interrupted, Well, I think it’s rubbish girl, you would be far better sticking to Ivor Novello, now there’s a composer, or even that new chap, what his name…… Richard slurped his soup once more.

Young Peter immediately knew to whom is grand father referred.

Grand Father, I think I know his name, it’s King Cole. Peter laughed and laughed at the astonished faces of Doris and Richard.

It’s not King Cole silly Doris said ruffling Peter’s hair, It’s Cole Porter now he is marvellous Father, his songs are the latest craze, so if you like him Father, you must like Jazz? I might add, I love all these composers too, but I also love Jazz father, you can like more than one type of music you know, surely you can understand that?

Richard grunted in distaste at Doris’s remarks.

Doris continued….

I would like to go out tonight Father, with your permission of course, and wondered if you would be good enough to look after Peter for me? I would rather like to meet up with some school friends, we have a sort of reunion and meeting at a west end club. Some of the girls have travelled from Paris to be at the club. tonight. It will be so wonderful Father, we are to be entertained by a real live Jazz band called…….oh, I forget the name of them now, but they are all the rage, and play all over the world. I am so looking forward to it, if I may go.

Doris fidgeted about on her seat hoping her Father would not object to her going out. After all, it had been months since she went anywhere with anyone, surely he couldn’t object, she thought.

Richard chewed every morsel of his roast beef before he replied. Dabbing his mouth with his napkin he said,

Of course you must go dear, but remember, there are many undesirables around London’s night spots, so be very careful. Stay close to your friends. Richard gave Doris one of his cheeky winks; how could he refuse his only daughter a night out. After all, she was 18 years old, and these were modern times and women were becoming more emancipated.

Peter looked upset and felt left out of all the excitement.

Mother, can I go with you, I would be very good and would only speak when I was spoken to? Peter looked longingly into Doris’s eyes for her answer.

Richard got up from his chair and went over to his beloved grandson.

Now then lad, he said, gently putting his arms around him "it wouldn’t be a fit place for a young man like you, you would hate it, all that smoke, and all those grownups. What do you say your grandma and me take you out to the zoo tomorrow instead? You would like that wouldn’t you? The only thing is, we would