The Jesse Crawford Legend
A Self-Taught Lad Who Became
"The Poet of the Organ"
By Stu Green
 Much has been written of the small boy who taught himself music while quartered in an orphan asylum near Woodland, California. It is an always-appealing tale of the opportunity America affords. If a man has the ability, he's "in," regardless of how he acquired the ability. This could happen only in America.
In Europe, an organist applying for a position is required to show his credentials and the extent of his education in his field. Even in Britain, note how many popular organists can write "F.R.C.O." (Fellow, Royal College of Organists) after their signatures, indicating that they've met the requirements dictated by pedagogues. Not Jesse Crawford. His talents could not have flowered in such a restrictive atmosphere. He learned by doing and his original style of playing ballads is still the criterion. There's a little "Jesse" in all ballad-playing organists today, a great deal in some. The Early Years Jesse's father died when he was one year old and his impoverished mother was forced to place the baby in an orphanage, The officials there noted his great attraction to anything musical and gave him a harmonica. By the age of nine he was playing a cornet in the orphanage band but the piano in the auditorium intrigued him. Although normally forbidden to the children, use of the piano was extended to Jesse. The officials were understanding. That's where the development of his keyboard technique started. The training served him well. At age 14 he left the orphanage to play piano in a small dance band which barnstormed the West Coast for several years. The boy was fast gaining experience. Then he tired of travel and took a job playing piano in a ten-cent-admission nickelodeon, cueing a continual diet of cops 'n robbers, westerns and other examples of early cinema. Crawford had never played organ before but when he got a job playing in the Klemmer theatre (Riverside Ave and Post Street in Spokane, Washington) which had both piano and a seven-rank Estey organ, the die was cast. Jesse mastered the churchly, un-trem'd Estey organ just as he had the piano Then he heard about a new kind of organ, the Hope-Jones "unit orchestra" just installed in the Liberty Theatre in Seattle. There he met organist Oliver Wallace and the two struck up a friendship. Wallace gave the young man some pointers. There is reason to believe much of the "Crawford style" of later years can be traced back to Oliver Wallace. The brief exposure to the then-new theatre organ sounds opened new vistas to the imaginative young man. This was his kind of organ. One night when Wallace and Crawford were playing after the show, David Grauman came down the aisle to speak to Wallace. He was opening a new house in San Francisco and needed an organist. Could Ollie recommend anyone? Wallace suggested Crawford. Grauman hired him. Jesse was playing at the Strand in San Francisco for David J. Grauman, whose son, Sid, was nearly ready to open his new Million Dollar theatre in Los Angeles and wanted an organist with a fine ballad style. His brother sent Jesse and Jesse got the job. That was in 1917 The Chicago Theatre and the New York Paramount Years
He left the Paramount in 1933 to concertize in England and he never returned to his 4/36 Wurlitzer or studio 4/21 Wurlitzer. Things were tough, even for top organists, by that time. The talkies had doomed wide use of theatre organs and the console elevators went down across the land, most never to rise again. Jesse got a job playing on a Kilgen organ at the Chicago World's Fair in 1934, including some memorable broadcasts. It was in 1936 while serving as staff organist out of NBC in Chicago (Style 235 special Wurlitzer of 12 ranks) that Jesse decided to try something quite different. He had always been a "resident organist," playing from one spot on the map. Now he would try taking music to the people. The new electric organ was available. Crawford was unhappy with the first models but someone told him about a young man who knew how to make Hammonds sound better: Thus, Lee Haggart entered the picture. The Hammond Organ on the Road Lee says, "Jesse quit NBC in 1936 and started playing 'singles' out of Chicago. His first booking was at Rockford, Illinois. It was a 4/16 Barton in bad shape. I did all I could to patch it up [Lee is a veteran organ builder] and Jesse had a successful booking. After that it was Hammonds, sometimes twin Hammonds, with Helen at the second one. We booked into first-run houses exclusively. My scrapbook is full of that era." Haggart went along on all of Jesse's barnstorming tours as his technician, a fancy name for "setup man." It was Lee's job to install the Hammond in such a way that Crawford would be satisfied with the sound. One thing that bothered Jesse was the Hammonds quick cut-off. (This was before Hammond introduced artificial reverberation). Lee often solved this problem by using a nearby tiled men's room as an echo chamber. Lee continues: "A talent agency which shall remain unidentified decided Jesse had a good idea that needed some window dressing, so they footed the bill for a 16-piece orchestra which met us at the Roxy in Now York. Crawford and the band rehearsed in the old Roxy organ broadcast studio (equipped with a small Kimball) for two weeks before Jesse performed on several hundred watts of Hammond power downstairs in the theatre "Then we were booked for a tour. We played Chicago (Congress Casino), Memphis (Hotel Peabody Roof), the Detroit State Fair "At this point Jesse said 'the hell with it,' disbanded the band, and booked himself solo into all the hick-town theatres he could line up. It worked. Managers passed the word along and Jesse thrilled the 'sticks' with his Hammondizing for over a year As a footnote to Jesse's rural, one-night stand period, the writer recalls driving through a small central New York town one spring evening in the late '30s and seeing the words "Jesse Crawford at the Electric Organ" emblazoned proudly on a tiny movie marquee. Things were getting tougher. Jesse Crawford remained on the New York NBC staff for several years, some say until he came back to the Coast. Meanwhile he had cultivated another interest. Crawford's First Formal Organ Study Crawford started a study course in 1940 with a brilliant but controversial teacher, Joseph Schillinger, who contended in his published works that mathematics was the basis of all art, music included. Among Schillinger's students were such familiar names as George Gershwin, Benny Goodman, Glenn Miller, and movie score composers Leith Stevens and Nathan Van Cleave. Whether his radical theories helped or hindered these musicians is open to conjecture. There is no way of measuring. But Crawford wanted something for which he'd never had time: formal musical education. He wanted to play classics as well as pops. By comparing "before and after" recordings, we can get a glimpse of the effect Schillinger's lessons had on Crawford's playing. Normal maturity may have been an additional factor, but Crawford emerged as a greatly subdued organist after Schillinger. Most of the former flamboyant showmanship which had earned him his original fame had disappeared. Perhaps the limitations of the Hammond organ (which he played almost exclusively between the early 40s and the middle 50s) were a factor, too. After Schillinger he never again recorded a tibia "roll" and the use of his famous mordent diminished accordingly. His first LP after returning to the pipe organ in the mid-50s was devoted to Irving Berlin tunes, played in rather strict tempo throughout. Crawford had some bad years, too, both personally and musically. After 1941 and extending to the moment he discovered the Robert Morton organ in the Lorin Whitney studio in Glendale in the mid-50s, nearly all of his playing was done on Hammonds, mostly hyped with Leslie speakers. His lowest ebb came in the early 40s. In 1943, his wife Helen died. Jesse was brokenhearted. Those close to him were dismayed by his despondency. Meanwhile, his contract with NBC ran out and the arrangement, which had the country's star entertainment organist writing orchestrations for radio shows, was not renewed. But Jesse found that his talents as an organist were still very much in demand. Operating independently, he landed many personal appearances and radio shows. Among the latter was supplying organ background for one of those "friendly philosopher" homey-type radio poetry readers. This offered him no challenge and did little to satisfy his legion of fans. In 1944, there was an encouraging note. Through a mutual friend, Jesse met a girl named Lucy. She was quite different from the type he was attracted to in the past. She was not a performer and she had no connection with show business. It was no surprise when Jesse and Lucy told their little circle of friends that they had been married. Jesse Crawford started out with new vigor to pick up his career. Teaching and Publishing Follow a Career Slump However, the only platter-maker interested in releasing Crawford discs during that period was a one-horse outfit whose recording techniques and faulty surfaces were far below the quality of older Crawford discs. Crawford cut a number of Hammond sides for them for release on the then-new long-playing records. Perhaps it was because a disgusted artist was being told what to play and on what instruments that some of the tunes were badly played. Notes were missed or left out. Rhythm was often uneven. Errors were covered up cleverly but to the practiced ear, they were inexcusable in a recording made by a perfectionist. Years later, he was even asked to record a Hammond chord organ Jesse Crawford recovered from that slump. He went back to Decca Records and turned out a number of beautifully conceived LPs on the Hammond organ over the years. His sheet music arrangements for Hammond organ and his instruction books became best sellers. But we are ahead of our story. Between 1945 and 1949, Jesse Crawford was a freelancer, playing whatever engagements came along. Sometimes the pickings were rather sparse. In 1949 his life took a new twist. His son by his first marriage, Howard, joined him in New York and Jesse taught the boy some of his tricks of the console. It was only natural that a child of Jesse Crawford would be musical. A few months later, the reunited father and son opened a studio in the Steinway Building in New York and signed up prospective students with Jesse teaching the advanced players and Howard instructing the beginners. Jesse's wife Lucy was a strong ally in the furtherance of his career. He had long wanted to write instruction books as part of his courses but dreaded the thought of following through with the rough outlines and notes he had used in his teaching. Lucy told him to go on scribbling rough notes, and that she would take over from there. Lucy edited the material and put it in order for printing. We can be thankful to Lucy Crawford for the organ course and the many books of Crawford arrangements, which stood for years as a monument to Jesse's skill and her patience. Crawford Returns to California to Teach After a visit to the West Coast, Jesse fell in love with southern California all over again. He closed his Steinway studio in New York and moved to Los Angeles to open a studio in the Penny-Owsley Music Company on Wilshire Boulevard in 1952. Emory Penny, a longtime Crawford friend and fan, quickly saw the value of Crawford's association with his Hammond department. As in New York, Howard assisted his father. Decca records showed new interest in Crawford as a recording artist and he started cutting records on a Hammond. Crawford's union with Penny-Owsley was generally advantageous to his legion of followers. As a demonstrator, he was exposed to public view. Advanced students could sign up for lessons with him or enroll in a class. (Those who attended classes reported that Jesse lectured more than he demonstrated.) Always shy offstage, Crawford assumed a different personality in front of a group in his later years. He learned to enjoy speaking to the public. Each year the store exhibited its top star at a Hammond demonstration held in a large Los Angeles auditorium. One such event was held in the Elk's Club Auditorium in Los Angeles. The stage was a gallimaufry of Hammond paraphernalia and Crawford moved freely among the electros, talking up the good points of each. He was never short of words until he sat down at the chord organ. Looking embarrassed, he almost whispered, "This one's for cowards." It was the first time this writer had seen Jesse Crawford in person since he took a raised console bow at the New York Paramount one evening in 1930. He had not changed greatly. He was the same dapper artist, although his hair was now salt-and-pepper toned and his complexion had become quite ruddy. He sported a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles, which somehow added warmth to his smile. He entertained with well-played music between his rather lengthy commercials The Final Recordings It was that concert and the interest of the audience in the brooding silent pipe organ console begging to be played that finally brought this writer into personal contact with Jesse Crawford. After the minor demonstration in favor of "the big organ," it seemed only right for someone to point out to Crawford that a large percentage of his followers hoped he would one day return to the pipe organ. A letter was drafted, polished and mailed. Nothing happened immediately and the letter was nearly forgotten when, on a Sunday afternoon, the phone rang. "This is Jesse Crawford speaking." (The letter's author nearly fainted. One of his idols had taken the trouble to phone him.) Crawford continued, unaware of the emotional havoc he was causing. "I got your phone number from Lee Haggart. You mentioned him in your letter. I wanted to thank you for your interest." The trembling scribbler blurted out some inappropriate words. Crawford went on. He told of the increasing demand among his followers for pipe organ music and how much he preferred pipes to the electronic. "But I'm thankful to the Hammond. I like to eat, and the Hammond has kept me in groceries for many years." Would he make some pipe organ discs? Crawford said he would retire from working at the store in a short time. Then he would try to find an organ that suited him. He had kind words for mutual friend, Lee Haggart, "who I couldn't have gotten along without back when I was barnstorming." While he wouldn't say for sure that he would return to recording on pipes, he closed the conversation on a hopeful note, saying that if he did change to pipes, the letter could be credited with having influenced his decision. There were a few more pleasantries with the writer (who had by this time regained a semblance of composure) and he was gone.
It wasn't long before Jesse Crawford decided that the Whitney studio Morton was the appropriate instrument on which to make his grand reentry and the rest is history. He recorded on it for more than five years. He then cut his last two LPs on the Simonton Wurlitzer. We can be thankful that the recording art came far enough to preserve his latter-year music with reasonably good fidelity. Through his records there will be a Jesse Crawford around to teach those who understand his music and would like to emulate his style. There are his books, arrangements, and a whole new generation of organists who can "make like Crawford" with more or less realism. The memories of "the poet of the organ" will be around for long into the future. Copyright © 2001 The American Theatre Organ Society, Inc. All rights reserved. |
This was one of those pleasant gestures made by thoughtful people for the interest shown in them and their careers. It was the most wonderful phone call the writer ever received. He was on cloud nine for days.
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