“The Night We Met in Honomu”
Composed by Lanny Ross; arranged by Howard Gibeling.
Recorded by Larry Clinton and His Orchestra for Bluebird on April 7, 1941 in New York.
Larry Clinton, clarinet, directing: Ralph Kessler, first trumpet; Bob Alexy, Johnny (Augustino) Austin, trumpets; Miff (Dominic Sinischelcci) Sines, Howard Gibeling and Jimmy Curry, trombones; Ben Feman, first alto saxophone; Steve Benoric, alto saxophone and clarinet; Fran Ludwig and Nat Brown, tenor saxophones; Henry “Butch” Stone, baritone saxophone; Bill Straub, piano; George Rose, guitar; Hank Wayland, bass; Charlie Carroll, drums. Peggy Mann, vocal.
The story – part one – Honomu and Lanny Ross:
Honomu, Hawaii is a small town on the Big Island of Hawaii, some ten miles from Hilo, the main city on the Big Island. Once a bustling plantation town that serviced the sugar industry, Honomu was established in 1876. The town was filled with many different nationalities of workers employed at the sugar plantation and in Honomu itself in a variety of shops, a theater, bakery, various eateries, churches and other sundry shops. After the sugar plantation closed, the town also started to close down. The current population is about 550. The town is now something of a tourist stop on the road from Hilo to Akaka Falls. Curious visitors stop at Honomu to sightsee, have a snack and explore the galleries and tourist shops in town. On the way from Honomu to Akaka Falls, visitors will also find a variety of fruit stands where produce grown near Honomu is sold. “Honomu” in Hawaiian means “silent bay.”
One wonders what inspired singer Lanny Ross (Lancelot Patrick Ross – 1906-1988), to compose a pop tune about Honomu, an out-of-the-way Hawaiian town, in late 1940 or early 1941. Before Pearl Harbor was attacked on December 7, 1941, most Americans had only the vaguest ideas about the Hawaiian Islands. But the name Hawaii, and anything associated with it, evoked dreams of an exotic tropical paradise. That may have been enough to pique Mr. Ross’s imagination..
Ross is little remembered today, but he was a very successful entertainer in the period from the late 1920s into the 1940s. He was a high-achiever, almost from birth, making his theatrical bow at the age of 4 performing with his father in a professional Shakespearean company. During his primary education in a Canadian convent and various Seattle (his birthplace) and New York schools, young Ross confined his appearances to choir work, including term as head monitor at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, in New York City. He got his bachelor’s degree from Yale in 1927, and then his law degree from Columbia in 1931.
His show business career began in radio in 1928, and included a five-year run with Annette Hanshaw on the Maxwell House Show Boat program. His recording career began in 1929. He did so well on the radio that he gave up his hopes of practicing law, and began a full-time singing career. Ross went on to success in vaudeville, night clubs and films. He served in the U.S. Army in World War II, achieving the rank of major. During the war, he was called upon to sing the Oscar-nominated ballad, “We Musn’t Say Goodbye,” for the 1943 motion picture Stage Door Canteen. The film also received an Oscar nomination for best musical score that year. (Above left: Lanny Ross with Ann Sothern (Harriet Lake) – older sister of big band singer and composer Bonnie Lake – in a publicity still from the 1934 Paramount film “Melody in Spring.”)
His radio programs included Troubadour of the Moon, Maxwell House Showboat, Packard Mardi Gras, Lucky Strike Hit Parade and his own Lanny Ross Program, sponsored by Franco-American over the CBS Radio Network. Ross’s career in entertainment seems to have slowed considerably after World War II.(1)
The story: part two – Larry Clinton taking care of business:
I have mentioned before that Larry Clinton was a very smart guy who, unlike most other bandleaders, used the music business to achieve the financial goals he had set for himself (he effectively retired from bandleading at age 32), and did not allow that business, which could be grueling, to destroy his physical and emotional health. He also had impeccable timing: He began leading his band late in 1937, just as the swing era was moving into high gear, and quit in the autumn of 1941, just before the cataclysmic events that followed the Pearl Harbor attack.
This is not to say that Clinton dabbled. He did not. The four years he led a road band were filled with all of the intense, demanding, exhausting, gratifying and ultimately satisfying activities that were required of him to lead a successful band. Clinton himself, then summarized those years in typically clear-eyed fashion: “The Meadowbrook in New Jersey was the best dance spot, year after year. Theaters meant good money (and no travel), and a chance to catch other bands at late-night spots, but were mostly a grind, with the same shows every day. College dates (and other one-night stands) involved an enormous amount of travel, but in some respects were the most rewarding in an emotional sense. But I’m afraid that the press agents and booking offices were more interested in the quick dollar than in the development and expansion of human talent. We tried mostly to be a good dance band.” (3)
The Clinton band was indeed a good dance band. Their leader always made sure that the band was populated by excellent musicians who played well individually and as an ensemble. Clinton himself provided many of the arrangements his band played, and among those arrangements were some gems. But he also used other arrangers, often members of his band. One such was trombonist/arranger Howard Gibeling. Gibeling worked earlier in his career as a trombonist and arranger for trumpeter Bob Pope and His Hotel Charlotte orchestra. That group made a number of records for RCA-Bluebird in 1936, with Bluebird’s very talented traveling engineers recording the Pope band in Charlotte, North Carolina. He went on to play in a succession of bands, including Glenn Miller’s briefly, before joining Larry Clinton in the summer of 1940. I am reasonably certain that Clinton was as interested in Gibeling’s arranging skills as he was in his ability to hold down a chair in his band’s trombone section. (Above left: trombonists Miff Sines (left) and Howard Gibeling in Larry Clinton’s band – early 1941.)
The music:
It appears that the first recording of “The Night We Met in Honomu” was made by Lanny Ross himself, accompanied by pianist Roy Bargy, on Valentine’s Day, February 14, 1941. After that, Mr. Ross’s music publisher went to work, trying to get other artists to play the song, and if possible, to record it.(2) It came into the repertoire of Larry Clinton’s band in March of 1941, after Howard Gibeling made an excellent chart of it for vocalist Peggy Mann. It was recorded a short time later.
The introduction fashioned by Mr. Gibeling reveals that he had considerable chops and imagination as an arranger: Hear the kaleidoscopic sounds he created and blended by using the open trombones, the clarinets (probably two of them from the saxophone section, plus Clinton, who played clarinet at times), the cup-muted trumpets, and the lower register saxophones (probably three of them) – they are colorful and musical. Gibeling’s use of the three clarinets and three saxophones as discrete instrumental sounds will reappear a number of times in this arrangement as a subtle motive, especially as a background for Peggy Mann’s singing. (Above right: Peggy Mann.)
The first chorus has those lower register saxophones blended with the clarinets in unison stating the main melody, with warm asides provided by the cup-muted trumpets. The tempo is perfect for dancing. The open trombones take the secondary bridge melody, but Gibeling deftly and effectively adds more spice to the sonic mix by layering the saxophones and trumpets below them, then handing the melody off to the now harmonized saxophone quintet to complete the bridge. The final eight bars of chorus one has the trumpets now playing the main melody at first, and then the saxophones. (The ensemble unity throughout this performance is impressive: Larry Clinton knew how to effectively rehearse a band.)
Larry Clinton plays clarinet with members of his saxophone section – summer 1940: L-R: Clinton, Don Hammond on bass clarinet; Ben Feman, Steve Benoric and Fran Ludwig.
The modulation into the vocal chorus is a delight: First, lead alto saxophonist Ben Feman, and then, tenor saxophonist Fran Ludwig play above the warm softly played open brass, then the bright clarinets, finally the lower register saxophones.
Vocalist Peggy Mann (real name: Margaret Germano – 1918-1988), catches the downbeat perfectly. She was an excellent singer with a fine sense of pitch, warm voice quality, a strong swing orientation and good range. Arranger Gibeling fashions a colorful background for Ms. Mann to sing against in the sixteen bar AA melody exposition using the clarinets and contrasting lower register saxophones. On the eight bar bridge (B), he adds another sound, that of cup-muted brass. For the last eight bars of (A), Gibeling returns to the sounds of the contrasting reeds.
As Ms. Mann continues singing, she works against a soft background of cup-muted brass and a dramatic downward swirl of sound provided by the mixed reeds. Her last tract of singing is done against softly played open brass and the richly blended saxophone quintet.
This is an excellent arrangement played with assurance and verve by a crack swing band. The singing by Peggy Mann is also top-notch.
The recording presented with this post was digitally remastered by Mike Zirpolo.
Notes and links:
(1) The information about Honomu, Hawaii and Lanny Ross was gleaned from Wikipedia posts on those subjects.
(2) This quote was extracted from the liner notes for Hep CD 1047 Larry Clinton …Feeling Like a Dream (1995), by Ian Crosbie, 7.
(3) Here is a link to a delightful “Soundie” music video, probably from 1941 (in color), presenting Lanny Ross singing “The Night We Met in Honomu”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8a96AKG1N6w
Another well-written article, Mike! I really enjoy your colorful portrayals of the performers you write about. You seem to have an innate ability to write about the factors and the feelings that these marvelous men and women were dealing with at the time, almost as if you were there. Interesting insights! Anyway, I’m glad you write a lot of articles about that particular era of music.
Thanks George for your kind words. I’m passionate about the music in the swing idiom. It was made by people who were very talented and committed. The swing era was a unique time and I want to shine light on it.
You’re welcome, Mike! You certainly are doing a remarkable job shining the light on the music and the musicians! I was fortunate to have had a father who was part of that musical generation. They were a special breed of musicians. The Great Depression may have played a role in shaping them into the great men and women they did become.