Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Dick Gregory 1932-2017

Dick Gregory for President, 1968
 
"Oppression is more detrimental to the oppressor
than it is to the oppressed."
 
Dick Gregory, May 4, 1971, Kent State University
 
Dick Gregory died late Saturday night at a hospital in Washington, DC. Give me some time to get used to this. At this moment, everybody is talking about the death of Jerry Lewis. I, too, loved Jerry (The French were onto something, folks) but today we need to talk about Dick Gregory.
 
It was one of those mountaintop moments that will never leave me. Early one afternoon in the Spring of 1985, I was working on a job in front of a building on Fifth Avenue between 57th and 58th Streets in merrie olde Manhattan. I was on lunch break listening to the Howard Stern program on the radio. This was at a time when Howard could still be appreciated by anyone with an IQ above a bag of rancid mangoes.  I was about to dig into a tuna fish sandwich when Howard announced his next guest: the legendary Dick Gregory - my hero! 

I had discovered him as a teenager at Goshen Central High School. One day in  my freshman year, I was perusing the biography section in the school's library when I came upon an autobiography with the most peculiar title: "nigger" (in lower case). I scanned it with somewhat of a morbid curiosity. I probably wouldn't have given it a second look had the author of this book with the provocative title not been a comedian. I was a comedy nerd even then. I checked the book out and have been hooked  on Dick Gregory ever since.
 
As luck would have it on that fine Spring day in 1985, I was parked directly across the street from the building from which the Stern program was broadcast. When the interview concluded, I got out of the van, walked across the street, entered the lobby, and waited patiently. After about ten minutes or so, one of the doors of the four elevators opened and he emerged: MY HERO IN THE FREAKIN' FLESH, BABY!

This was not my first encounter with Dick Gregory - or "Greg", as his friends called him. In the late seventies, while reading yet another of the several books by him that I had read over the years, he mentioned in the closing chapter that he and his wife Lillian (and their ten children) had settled into a beautiful farmhouse on Long Pond Road in Plymouth, Massachusetts. Just out of youthful curiosity,  I called the Plymouth directory assistance to see if he might be listed. To my utter astonishment - he was! At that point in my life, I didn't dream I would ever have the opportunity to meet Dick Gregory, but - come hell or high water - I was determined to speak to him.

After a couple of tries, I was able to get through to the great man. I don't remember much of our chat,  except telling him before hanging up how much I loved and appreciated him and all he had done for America. It was such a sweet conversation, I wish I had recorded it. I never phoned him again because  I didn't want to be a pest; the poor guy had enough on his plate, what with trying to save the world and all.

A couple of years later, in the early months of 1980 (or was it the late months of 1979?) I was a student at Orange County Community College, or as I used to call it, "The University of Middletown". Somehow I got myself on a committee that was charged with booking entertainment and lecturers to appear at OCCC. Of course my first and only thought for a lecturer was Dick Gregory. I worked out all the logistics and booked him to appear. I even made arrangements for him and his brother (who was traveling with him as an assistant) to spend the night in the guest room of my parents' house in Goshen. Alas, it was not meant to be. On this night, the east coast was whacked by a killer blizzard, and Greg got snowed-in in New York City. It was one of the biggest disappointments of my life up to that point (I've had a number of them, far worse, since then). To my credit, I was able to book Leon Redbone a few weeks later. All was right with the world again.

You've got to give this man credit. In 1959, at a time when African American comedians performed exclusively to black audiences via a system that was known as "The Chitlin Circuit", Dick Gregory was the first of them to "cross over" into the white mainstream. Although at that time America was still resistant to change, the world of comedy (always ahead of the curve) was changing at what seemed to be the speed of light. It was no longer a market inhabited exclusively by tired and stale old vaudevillians like Milton Berle and Henny Youngman. A new breed of smart and sophisticated comics were emerging in the repressed era of the 1950s, personified by performers like Lenny Bruce and Mort Sahl. Dick took advantage of this new freedom and dove headfirst into it. 
 
It was the visionary Hugh Hefner (already a champion of the trailblazing and controversial Lenny) who booked Gregory for two weeks at the Playboy Club in Chicago where he was a sensation. From that moment on, he was cooking: appearing in the top rooms and on the most influential television programs in the nation. He even acted in a film. This was a performer that was touching a star even he would not have dared imagined a year before. Dick Gregory was reaching heights no one could have foreseen. And yet  that was not enough to fulfill his insatiable ambition. There was something happening in America that could not be ignored. Dick Gregory wanted to be a part of a higher calling.

BUSTED!
He began to take part in the civil rights marches that were overwhelming the consciousness of the United States in the early sixties, particularly in the south. He was a decided part of a movement that was altering America and would change it forever. He started to spend more time as a sit-in demonstrator than as a stand-up comedian. He was shot in the leg trying to bring calm to the Watts riots of 1965. He even earned himself an FBI file. As far as I'm concerned, had I been active in that era it would have been an honor to find myself on J. Edgar Hoover's shit list. It is my opinion that any person of conscience who did not have a file during Hoover's reign of corruption and stupidity is not a person  whose biography is worth reading. Seriously.

Think about it:

Malcolm X, John Lennon, The Berrigan Brothers, Eleanor Roosevelt, Charlie Chaplin, Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day, Abbie Hoffman, Martin Luther King, Lenny Bruce, Bob Dylan, Frank Sinatra, Bobby Kennedy, Angela Davis - they all had files in Hoover's FBI. That is a noble and honored fraternity. I would LOVE to be a part of that THAT crowd! Wouldn't you?

That is only one reason I would have trusted Dick Gregory with my life. I still do. I always will. I love Dick Gregory. That's never going to change.

He purposely destroyed his career as an entertainer. He wanted - I suspect he needed - to stand for something more noble and righteous. I once speculated that, if you get to Heaven and you only encounter two entertainers, they will be Laurel and Hardy. I need to amend that statement. Dick Gregory will be there. Of that I have no doubt.

He became the conscience of America, enduring hunger strikes - some of which went on for months - in order to call attention to the immoral war in Vietnam and other American atrocities. He became an outspoken vegetarian and nutritionist whose books on diet and healthy living are still in print and are referred to decades later.

"If beef is supposed to be so healthy for you
how come cows don't eat it?" 

Dick Gregory, 1973

The Lion In Winter
Again, I cannot emphasize this enough: I loved Dick Gregory.

When we met in the lobby of the building on Fifth Avenue, I introduced myself and told him of our scant encounters in the previous years. He smiled and told me that he remembered me. I've always flattered myself into believing that he really did, but I suppose he was only being polite. Dick Gregory was that kind of man. I was floored that someone whom I considered a giant of the century that was still in existence would even bother to give me the time of day. I really am having an interesting life.

We walked together down Fifth Avenue and then turned right on West 57th Street. As we strolled for several blocks, we talked about America. We talked about our hopes and fears. It was then that I realized that he wasn't the icon I had always imagined him to be. Dick Gregory was just like me. I was ashamed that it had taken me that long to figure it out.

When we reached the corner of Broadway and West 57th Street, we went on our separate ways. Dick Gregory headed south on Broadway, and I ducked into the Coliseum Bookstore.

I felt blessed. I still do. We're going to miss you, Greg.

Tom Degan
Goshen, NY

SUGGESTED READING:

nigger
by Dick Gregory

This book changed my life.

SUGGESTED LISTENING:

Caught in the Act
by Dick Gregory

This LP was Dick Gregory's swan song as a nightclub entertainer. Recorded in the summer of 1973 at the height of the Watergate scandal, it is the funniest time capsule that will ever be your pleasure to listen to. An absolute scream! I haven't listened to it in decades. I cannot say for certain whether or not it's ever been released on CD, but I'm sure you will be able to find it on ebay with not too much trouble. It is worth the search. I just might give it a spin on the old turntable tonight.

4 Comments:

At 7:35 AM, Blogger Clueless It Seems said...

This was a lovely essay. I have to say though that one needs to be careful about not doing the proper objective case for conjunctions. It's NOT polite to overlook that because someone told you always to say "I sent the book to Dick Gregory and I". Me. Adjust what you write and what you say and be correct. It has nothing to do with whiteness!

 
At 7:38 AM, Blogger Clueless It Seems said...

"... I even made arrangements for he and his brother" HIM AND HIS BROTHER. Don't be afraid to say that. It's CORRECT. I made arrangements for HIM, not I made arrangements for HE.

 
At 8:26 AM, Blogger Tom Degan said...

You're right, of course. Correction made.

 
At 11:25 AM, Blogger Jefferson's Guardian said...

I agree with Clueless it Seems, Tom -- what a wonderful post about an amazing man! Your tendency to find yourself encountering people of a celebrity status -- Dick Gregory, and on the dark-side, Donald Trump, while working in Manhattan -- reminds me of the same with my daughter and her chance encounters with the Dalai Lama, for example, or Frank Robinson of baseball legend.

Interesting story, Tom. I'll be thinking about it the rest of the day.

 

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