Hope you enjoyed todays show featuring the late great Herb Dade. We filmed that gig in the Dawson Lounge about 3 years ago at about 1AM at night. It was good fun, and Herb was in great form, downing the tequilas to keep his voice husky and rucky as ever.
Here is a nice piece Tom wrote for Mongrel Magazine about how he delivered Herbs ashes back to his family in the states.
- Delivering Herb
Jazzman straddles two continents
I had overslept for a flight to New York, so I was stuffing some things in a bag and heading out the door when I glanced over and saw Herb still sitting there on the table. Well the remains of him, in an oval urn. I apologized, “Sorry Herb, I nearly forgot you.” I had grown accustomed to talking to him, having his ashes around. If you haven’t heard of him, Herb Dade was a dance choreographer and I was taking half of his remains home to where he was born in Orange County, Virginia.
Herb spent much of his youth in New York studying dance and moved to Ireland 15 years ago. As one of the few black people in Dublin at the time, he found a niche singing jazz by night and working as the day manager of Yamamori Noodles. He also appeared on stage and in a couple of TV shows as well as trying his hand at comedy. He was busy.
I met him eight years ago when I was studying double bass and went on to play with him and his many jazz bands. The last couple of years we were good friends. When he died on the 7th of March 2006, he was cremated here. Unfortunately none of his family could make it to Ireland for the funeral so it was decided that some of his ashes should stay here and some should go to the US.
I’m sure there is some official procedure when it comes to carrying remains out of the country and I was a little worried about having Herb wrapped up in my carry-on luggage. Running the security scenario over and over on the way to JFK, I had visions of seeing Herb roughed up, mistaken for an explosive or a sought-after narcotic.
Anyway, here I am sweating in front of an overweight immigration police officer. “What is the purpose of your visit?” He fingers my passport. I go for the truth. “I am delivering my friend’s remains to his family. He is in my bag.” I am taken off into a side room and thoroughly ‘investigated’ for half an hour but they let me through eventually.
I met up with a friend named Betsy in New York who was along for the ride and we set off for Orange County in a rented car at around 1pm. We stop to have a very large greasy burger in Wendy’s. I could really see we were not in New York any more. It was 9pm when we rolled in to the OC.
We followed the Map Quest directions on to a series of winding country lanes with no lights. I couldn’t see any street names and we cruised around hopelessly for the next 90 minutes. Suddenly Betsy shouts, “Dade! I see Dade on that post box!” And we pull to the side of the road. But which house is it? There are four identical houses within forty feet of each other. I don’t fancy banging on people’s doors at 11 o’clock at night and getting fucking shot, so we slowly drive through the cluster of houses but find no one about. Then a tall man runs across the yard from one of the houses and Betsy shouts “Excuse me sir!” and I get out of the car. He comes towards me in what seems like a very aggressive manner. “What you want man?” he asks. “I’m looking for Linda Dade,” I tell him. Suddenly the aggression is gone: it’s Herb’s brother. He invites me in to where Herb’s cousin and his other brother live. It was amazing to see them. We had made it.
I took out a DVD of Herb, which a friend had put together of his performances over the years. As I put it in the player, I explained that Herb had been a good friend and successful in Ireland. They hadn’t seen or heard from Herb for most of his life so it was a shock.
One of Herb’s brothers gets a call to say Herb’s sister, Linda, is home so we all get in our cars and drive the 50 feet to her place. A tall woman greets me at the door - she looks so much like my friend Herb. We take off our shoes and go in and talk a little and we all watch the DVD again. Then I unwrap Herb’s ashes for her and her family. She thanks me and all of Herb’s friends in Dublin. I say goodbye then me and Betsy head for a hotel in Callpepper.
http://www.mongrel.ie/issue23/jul06pp24.php