Frankie Redding, Jr.

by Ken Condit


    As his fans and fellow musicians will attest, Frankie Redding doesn't settle for being a talented keyboard player. From the sharp attire he wears to his lively, energetic performances, the spirit of a true showman shines through whenever he climbs onstage. Even though he has been slowed by illnesses, his passion for playing and performing continue to thrive inside him. As his friend and colleague Norman Sylvester puts it, "music is his fuel, it helps keep him going."

    For the past two years, Frankie has been performing with the Richard Day-Reynolds Band when he can, but he has had to limit his appearances recently to conserve energy. Once he hits the stage, however, there's no going halfway for this Blues hound. As the band's bass player, Pat Counts, observes, "he may not always be feeling well when he gets to a gig, but you can never tell once he takes to the keyboard. At times it seems as though he's on the verge of losing control."

    Richard calls him the "happy warrior" for the way "he busts his butt onstage" and because of his penchant for joking with the band while playing. Sometimes Richard can only wonder as to what sort of tomfoolery is going on behind his back while he performs up front.

    Today more than ever Frankie needs his musical "lifeline," plus the unwavering support of his companion, Susan Lee (pictured with Frankie at right), and his close friends, to help him through some tough times. Frankie has been a diabetic for at least 15 years and, as is all too common among diabetics, he suffers from kidney disease. The kidney problems surfaced three years ago following a heart attack. Now, he must undergo 10 hours of dialysis at home each day.

    With Frankie in need of a kidney transplant, it looked as though things were going his way when they found a willing donor and match in friend, Jan Bisconer. Unfortunately, doctors say his heart is not healthy enough at this time to undergo the transplant. He is now working through a six-month evaluation period to see if heart medication can sufficiently improve his condition for the transplant. If not, he will be added to a waiting list for a new heart, as well as a kidney.

    Pat Counts marvels at the unbelievable resilience Frankie and Susan have shown over the last couple of years as they have faced all of these setbacks together. Maybe that mischievous and even boyish sense of humor that Frankie possesses has helped him through.

    Frankie is an avid fisherman and he and Susan find some refuge by relaxing at one of their favorite fishing spots. They set aside one day a week to load up the gear and travel out to Willamina Pond or other nearby lakes. These jaunts out to the country may be therapeutic for Frankie both by balancing the frenetic pace of his stage performances and by providing a respite from his daily struggle. Their planned move out to rural Yamhill County is partly motivated by Frankie's love of the country.

    Having never received formal training as a musician, Frankie says he learned to play by listening. He used to go to the Crystal Ballroom to listen to popular bands perform Rhythm and Blues, Soul and other Blues-related styles. While most customers would be interested in dancing, Frankie was content to just listen. Witnessing the mastery he displays on the keyboards, it is obvious he has an extraordinary ear for music to go along with that spark of a showman.

    A native of Portland, Frankie attended Jefferson High School, where he met Norman Sylvester and Isaac Scott in the early 1960s. He took up the saxophone for a time, but was more comfortable at the keyboard and that became his instrument of choice. Put him in front of a Hammond B3, Frankie proclaims, and he is in heaven.

    His professional career began at the age of 15, when he would sit in for Billy Larkin at the Cotton Club in North Portland. Frankie learned a lot from Larkin and, because the club would bring in some national acts, Frankie got to play behind such notables as Big Mama Thornton and Tyrone Davis.

    After high school, Frankie joined a Rhythm and Blues (R&B) cover band called Wine that performed regularly at Fred's Place in North Portland. The band was particularly adept at doing covers of Bobby Womack songs and received a thrill one night when Womack sat in with them.

    Frankie traveled away from the Portland area for the first time when the band headed out on the road. The group made it to the southern U.S. and, as he remembers it, they pretty much wound up playing every town in Texas.

    But Frankie didn't stay away from Portland long and hooked up with the Staple Brothers, a gospel-style harmony group that performed popular R&B and Blues tunes. They played as the house band at Neicey's on Union Avenue (now Martin Luther King Boulevard) for several years. He also performed locally with the Arnold Brothers Motown Revue Band, as well as doing stints on the road in a Coasters revival tour and with soul singer Terry Evans.

    Always one to stay current with the trends, Frankie made the transition to Funk as it grew in popularity. He spent some time up in the Tacoma area performing with funk big bands complete with full horn sections. Frankie would surround himself onstage with the latest keyboard equipment, as well as that trusty Hammond organ. Fortunately, they were successful enough to have roadies to help lug the equipment around.

    It was only natural, given Frankie's strong background in R&B, Soul and Funk, that he would eventually join up with long-time friend Norman Sylvester. The two of them had jammed together occasionally from high school on, but didn't formally link up until the late 1980s.

    Frankie tickled, pounded and danced across the keys with the Norman Sylvester Band for about seven years until his health prevented him from keeping up with the band's schedule. He was with the band when they started their ongoing Candlelight gig in 1992 and appears on their Live At The Candlelight CD. It was Norman who dubbed Frankie "The Funkmaster," because of his ability to find a funky groove and roll with it. By Norman's reckoning, he is "the ultimate showman and groovemaker."

    Not being one to talk much about himself, most of what I learned about Frankie came from a few of his closest friends, including his fellow musicians. They universally describe him in a very positive light. Through terms such as "good-hearted," "generous" and "a marvelous spirit," they make it clear Frankie is someone that we would all be happy and proud to call a friend. The Blues community in Portland is truly blessed to have such a combination of talent, showmanship and positive energy in our midst.

    Norman Sylvester takes the philosophy that God has a way of giving people an outlet for dealing with adversity and, for Frankie, performing music has been that outlet. We should all be rooting for Frankie to succeed in his struggle, even if it's just for the selfish reason of getting more chances to enjoy his kick-ass performances.

    There are some important lessons that we may want to keep in mind as we send our best wishes and prayers out to Frankie. After talking to Susan Lee, I now understand the importance of contacting a local hospital such as OHSU to get my name on the organ donor list. None of us wants to think about bad things happening to ourselves, but the knowledge that we could be helping someone in need is truly uplifting. While signing on as an organ donor through the Department of Motor Vehicles is a good step, contacting a hospital to add ones name to its list can help facilitate the donor process.

    Something else that bears noting is the growing problem of diabetes in this country. More and more people are being diagnosed with this disease and there are many others who are afflicted and are unaware that they even have it. In addition to being the leading cause of kidney disease in the United States, diabetes is also the leading cause of blindness. Other complications can include heart disease and damage to the nervous system.

    The way we treat ourselves may affect whether or not we develop diabetes as an adult and, for those with the disease, how they take care of themselves will definitely affect their health.

    Frankie has certainly learned quite a bit about taking care of himself and let's hope that pays off for him.

 

© 2002 Cascade Blues Association