38 |
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Name: |
Jay Adrick |
Date: |
Thu 30 Aug 2007 10:38:10 PM EDT |
Subject: |
OT |
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I had the pleasure of beginning my broadcast
career in 1964 working at WZIP and WZIP-FM. We put the FM station on
the air in July 1964 and OT was our Saturday evening host. He did a
1 hour segment called "Songs by Sinatra" followed "OT's Jazz and
Poetry". During this time, the station required an engineer to run
the transmitter and I was lucky enough to draw that shift. We spent
many evenings working at the studios in the Vernon Manor Hotel.
Oscar hosted several live remotes from local clubs which I also got
to engineer and he soon helped to shape my interest in
music.
While we only worked together at WZIP for about 14
months, we kept in contact over the years. Many years later, OT did
some naration work from his home studio on several productions that
I put together while teaching at Xavier University.
I will
always treasure the time that we spent together. OT's warm
personality and style set him apart from the rest of the pack. We
can only hope that WVXU continus his program for many years to
come.
Jay Adrick Vice President Broadcast
Technology Harris Corporation |
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37 |
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Name: |
Kevin |
Date: |
Sat 23 Jun 2007 11:05:20 AM EDT |
Subject: |
O.T. Rap Response |
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Hey O.T. where you gone to Up on the other
side at the pearly gate too Sittin on a cloud, playing a
harp Or picking up a horn and laying in down sharp
Or have
you went off and joined the best Miles, Monk, Ellington, and all
the rest Found your spot in jazz club glory Sitting around and
swapping stories
Wait, wait, where’s the groove That
relaxing voice so soft and smooth Our jazz world’s loss is
eternity’s gain You’re like we won’t see soon or
again
Rest in peace in your well earned Haven We’ll be
missing you most, nine to eleven.
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36 |
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Name: |
Brian Gomien |
Date: |
Thu 21 Jun 2007 08:54:13 PM EDT |
Subject: |
A Letter to Saint Oscar |
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This message is late in coming (much too
late.) I remember listening to "Jazz with O.T. when I was in my
teens and being very effected not only with the music (for which
I was just beginning to gain an appreciation of) but also with the
charismatic host.
Who else in radio could play such diverse
and powerful music and have the dignity, magnetism and coolness
in presenting it that he had? He was just as much a draw for me
as the music was. The poems, the critiques and insight into the
music made me want to explore and take risks with my own collection
of music. As my library grew I fell into the habit of sharing new
discoveries with friends and inspired me to develop as a musician
who thrived on taking risks as well. This desire to share music and
art eventually led me to take a 2:00 AM slot on Saturdays with
WAIF FM playing an ecclectic mix of World, Folk, Avante Garde and
Jazz.
At first I thought I was alone in the endeavor. I clung
to O.T.'s example as if he were my patron saint, a personal guide
who was in my own backyard. Each week a new theme, new connections
and readings from the greatest thinkers who ever lived. Gradually
the insomniacs, club-goers and third-shifters stepped out of the
Hopper paintings they inhabited to let me know they were listening
and digging what I played. The show became a dimly lit diner
where the Nighthawks could here Monk riffing with Rumi or Ravi
Shankar putting into sound exactly what the Mad Hatter really
meant. There were no borders, no rules except that whatever it
was, it had to be good.
But as the show began to wrap up,
I and the audience came to a realisation. as good as it was, it
wasn't O.T. The tunes were good but I rushed my intro's. The
poetry, axioms and random insights came from good sources but a
missplaced "um" or "err" would kill their power. I thought I was
doing something fresh and original but I was just doing a weak
immitation of the best of the best. In the end we all wished O.T.
could've done the show, but he already had one and a damn good
one.
For now, I still keep it to a theme. I'm teaching in an
art school and the music always compliments the assignment. The
projects are challenging but come with great rewards if you just
follow through. The greats always come to visit and inspire. You
know who I mean, Krishna Murti, Rembrandt, Miles, Einstein and they
always ask me the same thing as they arrive, " You did say O.T.
was coming, didn't you?" |
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35 |
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Name: |
stevlroberts |
Date: |
Fri 08 Jun 2007 04:18:06 PM EDT |
Subject: |
O.T. |
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It always brought a sense of warmth to my
being whenever I heard O.T.'s voice. I started listening to him when
he was with WNOP. At some point, when my kids started arriving, I
lost track of him. One night when I was up very late with my oldest
son with yet another earache, I turned on the radio, and there he
was! My son, even through his crying, seemed to pause momentarily to
listen to the voice and the music. One never knows what influences
babies, but that son is now studying saxophone performance at CCM
with a deeplove of jazz. The man was "cool."
He will never
be forgotten.
Steve
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34 |
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Name: |
Jim Arthur |
Date: |
Mon 07 May 2007 09:32:17 PM EDT |
Subject: |
Thank you, Oscar Treadwell |
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When I look through many of the jazz albums in
my collection, I can remember Oscar Treadwell's voice resonating
between the cuts. Oscar Treadwell was the voice of after midnight in
Cincinnati. |
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33 |
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Name: |
Suzanne Cloud |
Date: |
Fri 17 Nov 2006 10:15:55 PM EST |
Subject: |
Oscar's death |
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I don't know who will read this message, but I
first spoke with your father in person when I was doing my PhD
dissertation at the University of Pennsylvania on the Philadelphia
jazz community. Prior to that, your father played my CDs (I'm a jazz
singer) on his show and we corresponded via email. I interviewed him
for my research, I think it was in Westmont, NJ., right after my
husband died. Your father was a wonderful man and a good friend for
a time. We kind of lost touch after he remarried. Funny, I just
decided to see if I could find your father again after reading a
1992 column written by local deejay (Bob Perkins) here in Philly
saying how much your father meant to him as a young and eager jazz
deejay wanna be. (I'm helping Bob Perkins with his memoirs and so
I'm going over old columns he wrote.
I have your father
talking about his life on tape. Let me know if you might like a copy
and I'll try to retrieve it from storage. Please accept my
condolences. Your father was quite a wonderful person. He will
certainly be missed. |
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32 |
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Name: |
brian hue
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Date: |
Wed 28 Jun 2006 05:19:43 PM EDT |
Subject: |
ot |
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I began listening to O.T. back @ 1970 on the
old WNOP station. When I got to college I listened to him on WGUC
from midnight till two a.m. He became a part of my life over the
years and I always thought he would be there just like a parent. I
now listen to old shows on cd and I find great comfort in hearing
his voice. Yet no matter how many times I listen to the artist
profiles I always learn something new. Thank you to his family for
sharing him all these years. And thank you to God for creating such
a wonderful person. |
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31 |
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Name: |
Paul Evans Pedersen, Jr. |
Date: |
Thu 25 May 2006 12:09:57 PM EDT |
Subject: |
Uncle Bud...Man, Was He Cool! |
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Man, Was He Cool!
I was three or
four And I remember, it didn't matter From where in the room
you looked at his picture... His eyes were always looking
straight into yours. They'd follow you, those eyes...and that big
smile... The picture was on my grandmother's dresser, And I'd
sneak into her room...just to see that guy's eyes Follow me
wherever I went. "That's your Uncle Bud" my grandmother would
say, and I'd hear her sigh, "Ahhhh...that's my Buddy" in that
nearly Irish lilt of hers. Then, she'd take my hand and lead me
out of that room, and on the way, I'd say, "Gram, he's
cool"... Man, he was cool!
And I remember the old man's
'63 Bel Aire As he'd drive me over to his brother's
house, Mumbling' all the while how he was going to checkmate Bud
this time if it killed him. We'd get there, and they'd look at
each other with their eye brows raised, seeming like they Were
ready to talk the shit, but instead, just ask each other, "White or
Black?" Then, aunt Caroline would busy me and Arthur, Alan,
Patchin and Gretchen with some sort of game outside As the
brothers did battle. I'd hear the old man call me an hour later,
and, walking back into the house, I'd see and smell Uncle Bud's
cigar, and knew the outcome of the black and white
war. Again. And on the way home, I'd hear the old man
muttering, "Next time, his ass is mine!" to No one in
particular. He beat the old man again, I knew. Man, was he
cool!
And that smile of Bud's sure pissed off Uncle
Norm As we all watched the Beatles one afternoon up in
Levittown. "He must have RENTED those Ludwigs", Norm was ranting,
as he set up his Pearls And tried to play along with Ringo, to
the disdain of me and the room-full of cousins That were enamored
with these guys from Liverpool. An ol' Uncle Bud would roar that
Uncle Bud laugh, knowing how much Norm would have liked to have had
that new set of Ludwigs Shining' up there on that Muntz TV
screen. "Hey, man, whattaya gonna do...?" Bud would say to
Norm, The implication being "Be happy with what ya got, my
man!". Uncle Bud couldn't help but to be positive. In
Everything. And Norm would calm down, and point out the new
sticks and heads he'd just put on his kit. And Bud would smile
that smile, look at him, and say, "Man, that's the way to think,
brother...just be cool!" Man, was he cool!
At my Grand
parent's 50th wedding anniversary The whole family was gathered
at a caterer's hall, Along with life-long friends of my grand
parents from their Methodist church, and stuffy Old
Republican-types from Grand pop's Masonic Lodge. Proud and
dignified were my grand parents, very conservative, very "old
country" Irish and Norwegian. Us cousin kids, now mostly in our
teens, were on, of course, our very best behavior. Grand mom
sitting there, glowing in the lime light. Grand pop sitting
there, arms folded, looking over the room like the King he was,
barely smiling, only nodding. Uncle Bud, again, as he loved to
do, shared the story of how his father scared away Oogie Orwitz
(Michael Landon) from marrying his sister, Etta, telling her, "no
daughter of mine is going to marry someone with a six-shooter on his
belt, Yumpin' Yimminy!" And then, with his toast to his parents,
in one sentence, Uncle Bud Shook the room to it's roots, and
nearly had most of the dentures in the room drop on the
floor. "And Dad, who can believe that most all of these beautiful
people sprang from your loins..." Man, he was cool!
And I
don't know if it was the seemingly thousands of "hip" records he
had, Or his unbound exuberance at the prospect of me and my best
friend Danny Thumbing it from New Jersey to California the first
time I visited him in Cincinnati...that amazed me... On my way to
California. "Man, this is SO great that you guys are doing this",
he'd said, over and over. But we were more interested in that
record collection than the trip we'd planned since 6th grade. "Do
you have 'Surrealistic Pillow?" He did. "Are You
Experienced?" He did. "King Crimson, even?" He did! The
Doors...? Yep! He did! He kept talking about "Train", and
"Hank Crawford" and "Miles", and told us that's the stuff he played
on his radio show, where he was known as Oscar Treadwell...but what
did we care. He had Hendrix, and he played it...and smiled at us,
and then bid us farewell and good luck, Never once warning us
with any kind of discouragement. Man, was he cool!
Just
after I released my first CD, The old man announced that Uncle
Bud had received an honorary doctorate for his dedication to
jazz. I wondered how he'd receive the Traditional Country CD I'd
sent, And it wasn't long that the phone rang from Cincy. "Man,
this is just outstanding! Really, really well-done, my man!". He
wanted to know all about the players and the writers, And
actually knew who I was talking about as I bragged on who played on
the album in Nashville. "And, man, the writing is primo. You've
outdone yourself, guy!", he said, As I tried to keep my face from
cracking off in smile. And in one sentence, he quelled all my
fears about "making it" in the commercial quagmire called the music
business. "But, Paul, think of the education you'll get on your
journey!"
Man. Was he cool!
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30 |
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Name: |
Jimmy Wisner |
Date: |
Wed 24 May 2006 09:04:06 AM EDT |
Subject: |
Oscar's passing |
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My deepest condolences to all of Oscar's
children.I thought he was the exception and he'd go on forever.
Literally, a great man in the best sense of that expression. His
lyrics were beautiful and compelling. He taught me a lot about
life. There was never a bigger fan of american jazz than
Oscar.
I feel a great loss. Jimmy Wisner |
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29 |
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Name: |
Gretchen
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Date: |
Thu 11 May 2006 09:11:19 AM EDT |
Subject: |
May 11, 2006 |
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Happy Birthday, Dad! I miss you so much.
Please give Mom a big hug from me.
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