I was born Marl Henderson Young in Bluefield, Virginia on January, 29, 1917 across from the state line.  My family moved to Chicago around 1923 or 1924.  I graduated from Englewood High School and started going to college in Chicago, but finished my college work when I went out to California and earned a Bachelor of Arts degree from UCLA.  When I was about six years old, I became interested in the piano and I just started playing by ear on my own.  I played jazz at night and studied Classical music in the daytime.  My family then recognized that I had some talent and started me with a piano teacher.  In time, I was not only able to play jazz, but also classical music.  Over the years, it came in very handy to be able to perform in both worlds.

When I was young, I appeared on church programs and other things like that, playing classical music.  Sometimes I would play for parties.  I ran around with guys in casual bands at first.  They would go to parties and whenever I went with them, I would always play.  When I was about 14 years old, I began to play professionally and by the time I was 16, I was in the Musician's Union, playing union jobs.  Later on, I had some problems with my hands and I had to stop playing.  During this period I taught myself how to arrange music and that was the best thing that happened to me!  Being able to arrange got me more jobs so I made more money.

Around 1941, I started rehearsing and writing music for night clubs and floors shows.  I had been rehearsing shows at the Rhumboogie Night Club, which had earlier been known as the Swingland, then Dave's Café. I was the rehearsal pianist there under all of the big names.  Playing the piano, you get more playing opportunities than you would if you are playing other instruments.  Singers are going to hire you, shows also will hire you, etc.  So when the management changed at the Rhumboogie, I took up with another group, just playing on off nights.  The management also hired me as a rehearsal pianist.  In 1943, Charlie Glenn, who owned the place, put together what he called his "Dream Band," with Charlie Parker, Eddie Johnson, Ton Archia, Gale Brockman, Paul King, Hillard Brown and a lot of other guys.

I had some problems with Union Local 208, so they put pressure on Charlie Glenn to keep me from becoming leader of the band,  so he put Carroll Dickerson in the leader job instead.  Carroll just wasn't up to it.  I don't mean musically, but emotionally, because Charlie Parker was running him crazy.  Charlie would just take the night off without notifying anyone and then the next night he would show up, or the next two nights he would show up, and then be off again.  In the Rhumboogie, you could enter on either the left or the right side to get on the bandstand.  When Charlie Parker would come in, Carroll would look up and see him and try to go out to meet him to stop him from getting on the stand.  Charlie would wait until Carroll exited out on the right side of the stage and then, Charlie would come in on the left side.  By the time Carroll realized what was going on, Charlie would already be on the bandstand with his horn in his hand and would not look up.  This went on for some time.

Besides writing the music for the shows, I was conducting the band also.  So when we played the show I would have to deal with Parker and his antics.  In the show there would be maybe four bars out or eight bars out for the horns, which meant that we had something important going on the stage.  Well, too often, Parker would jump and start soloing.  Carroll didn't deal with it, so I told Parker don't do that anymore on my shows.  "What you do when the band is playing, is your business, and Carroll's, but don't you do that on my shows."

On Sunday mornings we always had a breakfast dance at the Rhumboogie and a Monday morning breakfast dance a the Club De Lisa.  I wrote the music for both places.  At these breakfast dances, all of your colleagues were there so you wanted everything to go right.  We could not have Charlie Parker play the first saxophone chair because he was not dependable and we never knew whether he would show up or in what kind of shape he would show up in when he did.  Well, one morning, at the breakfast dance right in the middle of one of our big production numbers, Parker reached over and took the first man's (Johnny Houser) music and put his music on John' stand.  That is when I guess I must have gone insane, because I looked at all this taking place and I said to him, "You son of a b---, if you don't put that music back...."  He looked up and said, "What do you mean?"  It just so happened there was a Coke bottle on the piano.  I don't know why it was there, but I reached over and picked it up.  I said, "If you don't put the music back where it was, your brains are going to be on the floor."  He replaced the music.

It was soon after this incident that Carroll Dickerson walked out.  He just couldn't take it anymore.  Parker and Tom Archia were running him crazy.  Sometimes we would play a number with no music.  This is what we called a head number.  The saxes would start playing something and Tom and Parker would turn their backs and just play something altogether different.  Charlie Glenn defied the Union and named me as the new bandleader.  The first thing I did was to fire Tom Archia and Charlie Parker.  I worked there at the Rhumboogie Night Club all through 1944 and into 1945.  I was there with T-Bone Walker for over a year without a break.  In 1945, I was writing for a number of shows, playing for jazz as well as classical singers and rehearsing shows.  My writing and arranging skills were constantly in demand.  I wrote music arrangements for Joe Williams, John Hartman, T-Bone Walker, Wynonie Harris, Little Miss Cornshucks, Noble Sissle, Anita O'Day, George Kirby, Benny Carter and Dinah Washington.  Soon I didn't have to continue playing nights, so I finally quit the Rhumboogie.

In 1946, I went into the DeLisa with Fletcher Henderson.  He didn't like to play that much so I played in his band.  Around this time, I became involved in the Negro Music Festival.  BLACK was not the popular term at the time.  I was somewhat the house pianist for the Festival.  It was held at either Comiskey Park of Soldier Field.  There would be a contest of singers who had classical training.  The winners would receive cash prizes and make an appearance at the festival.  This is where my classical training came in very handy because the producers didn't have to go outside to get someone to come in and play a different type of music.  Besides the regular program, personalities like Paul Robeson and W.C. Handy were also featured.

I was involved with the festival for about three years, although one year it was not done in Chicago, but in St. Louis and Detroit.  Paul Robeson was on the program in Detroit.  At that time, he was very maligned in this country and I guess anyone who appeared with him was also maligned. I thought he was a great man and I didn't give a damn what the powers to be thought about him.  He was a great artist.  Also, in 1946 I started a recording company called "The Sunbeam Label soon after World War II.  I recorded the song, "So Long" performed by a blues singer, Little Miss Cornshucks.  I was credited on that recording as the arranger and leader.  Maybe if I'd had a larger company, the records would have done better.  The records did well, but they still didn't do as well as they should have, maybe because of the fact that we were not RCA or Capitol or one of the big companies.

So in 1947, I made up my mind that I really wanted to go to California.  I got my first opportunity while Bill Davis was playing with Louie Jordan.  Bill decided that he was going to quit and become a Hammond Organ artist, which he did soon after leaving Louie Jordan.  Louie needed somebody who could play and someone who could write fast.  Having had the experience of writing all of these shows, I had learned to write very fast.  Bill recommended me to Louie Jordan and told him that I would be coming to California, but Bill didn't give me any specific deadline as to when I should be there.  So I thought I could travel at my leisure and replace him whenever I got there, but that was not so!

I left Chicago on November 17, 1947 and I very leisurely drove out to California.  I got there on the 24th. Jordan was in the recording studio on the day I arrived and when they took a break, I went over to Louie and I told him who I was.  He said that he did not know when I was coming and had to have somebody right away, so he had already hired Bill Doggett.  Well, here I was in California, expecting to have a job and having none with only $15 in my pocket, a few personal belongings and an old ragged Pontiac.  As fate would have it, Martha Davis of the Martha Davis and Spouse act was at the Louie Jordan recording session and offered me a job to write arrangements for her recording session.  She'd been in Chicago and had seen me at the Rhumboogie.  She had heard an arrangement that I had done on "Rhapsody in Blue," which seemed to follow me like a shadow everywhere I went.  On hearing that arrangement, Martha decided that she wanted me to do the arrangements for her recording session.  Since we'd done elaborate shows at the Rhumboogie, such as are done in Las Vegas with the concepts but without all the fancy costumes and props, I did every arrangement.  I had done all the writing for Benny Carter during my days at Rhumboogie, so I called him to let him know I was here in California and he had me do some arrangements for them.  In fact, things went along well because I also contacted people here for whom I had previously written back in Chicago and they introduced me to others. Then I began to work with singers as their accompanist.

I had to live in Los Angeles for 30 days before I could go to work regularly in a night club.  That is a Union rule and it's very fair because it protects the local musicians who have been in a town for a length of time.  I was lucky enough that on the night my probation period ended, I started to work my first regular job at the "Last Word" on Central Avenue in April, 1948, with a band that was playing for Jimmy Witherspoon.   This was the same month that I married Los Angeles vocalist, Judy Carol, my second wife.  It was a great beginning in a new place, for I played engagements at the Down Beat Night Club on Central Avenue that June, then did a return engagement at the same place in August, 1948.   I became a full member of Local 267 in April, 1949, which was located at 1710 South Central.  Later, with my wife, Judy  and bassist Chuck Hamilton, we formed a singing group with everyone singing.  My wife and I broke up so later we reformed with a vocalist I met at UCLA in 1951, so we worked all the time.

Now I had become a part of the faction in the Los Angeles Black Musicians' Union 767 who wanted to unite or amalgamate with the the White Musicians' Union Local 47.  I became deeply involved in this venture.  Benny Carter was chosen as Chairperson of our committee but I was doing most of the strategic planning.  I was working late nights and devoting lots of time to the committee.  Estelle Edson was with me at that time because she was in the mood to fight the violations of Civil Rights.  You would not believe some of the wild things that I was accused of doing but she was right there with me.  She thought I was crazy most of all but Estelle was there anyway so subsequently we became engaged.

In 1952, I wrote the Merger Agreement that the two unions later voted on.  The White Union, Local 47, passed the Merger by 133 votes.  In January 1953, in a special election, Local 767, the Black Union, voted and we won by more than a two thirds majority.  During this time, the Los Angeles NAACP was brought in and the local Executive Director issued statements in Walter White's name, who was the National Director of the NAACP at that time.  He would make a statement and tell Walter what we had said.    There were still forces trying to fight the merger.  We went to Petrillo and Petrillo saying, "Why don't you people come to New York and go before the International Board to see if we can consummate the merger?"  I went to New York representing our Local 767 for, at the time, the membership had put the matter into the hands of the Board of Trustees and I was a trustee.  Buddy Colette, who did most of the ground work for getting the merger going, was another member of the Trustee Board.  There was another member who was not for this merger but we outvoted him.  I wanted to be Chairperson, so with Buddy's vote I became the Chair of the Board of Trustees.  With the membership having voted to put this matter in the hands of this Board, I now had free rein.

The President of Local 47 was John TeGroen and he truly represented his local.  I must say, until that time, I didn't like Petrillo too much.  But at this meeting, he stood up and said, "Now Johnny, your local voted for it, Marl's local voted for it, now what are we going to do about it?"  John had brought up some technical matter that he said should either delay or cause the merger not to be consummated.  Rex Recardi, the Federation's attorney, stood up and said, "I told you, in a letter, that technical point is of no relevance here."  That stopped all the arguments.  They sent us out of the room and when we returned, Petrillo said that there was no question that there should be a merger.  He said this should be the beginning of many mergers throughout the country and that segregated locals really have to go.  Of course, he was still President of the segregated Local 10 in Chicago at that time.  At least I must say, on this issue, he was absolutely 110 percent right.  He appointed a committee from the International Board to come out to consummate the work on the merger.  You know you have to work out the details about membership, seniority and all those things.  He appointed Herman Klein as head of that committee.  Klein later succeeded Petrillo as President.  They came out to California and we went through all the details as I was the spokesman for our committee.  I was fighting for every point that I could to protect the Black members.  The main issue was the matter of the death benefit for at Local 47, they had a death benefit of $1,000. Local 767, the Black Local which was significantly smaller, had a death benefit of only $400.   Also, Local 47 had a rule that if you joined after you were 40, you couldn't be covered by the death benefit.  Now of course we had a great many of our members in Local 767 who were over 40.  In fact, one member of our committee was Benny Carter and I've heard him say many a time, "Hey look, I'm over 40 but I still want the merger."  So when I wrote the Merger Agreement, I wrote that all the former members of Local 767 would continue to be covered by the $400 death benefit.  After one year, those former Local 767 members, who were eligible and under 40 at the time of the merger, would then be covered by the $400, meaning that two thirds of Local 767 received an increase of $600 in their death benefit but the other members did not lose anything at all. 

We had to transfer the property and many other things that were necessary.  Every union has a corporation that has the same membership as the union , which is usually an association.  Most state laws do not allow unions to become corporations.  I think some of those things are changing now whereby they can only become associations.  Back then, the unions would create a fictitious corporation which would own the real estate so that if there were some suits against the unions, their property would always be protected.  Now in order to be sure that there would be a smooth transfer of the property and the assets of Local 767 into Local 47, which was the merged organization, I was elected President of the corporation in the Black Union.  Estelle Edson, who was in the union, was elected secretary of the corporation.  One of our fellows on the merger committee, Bill Douglas, is now the treasurer of Local 47, the merged Local.  We elected him Vice PResident of the corporation and we retained the Treasurer, Paul Howard, from the older group of people at Local 767.  Therefore, when it came time to transfer the property, there were no problems.

In 1956, there was an election at Local 47 and the Black musicians told the powers-to-be that they thought this was the time to break the color line and get a Black member at least on the Board of Directors.  Max Herman, who later became President of Local 47, started interviewing the Black musicians, so without dissenting votes, they thought that I was the one that should become the first Black officer.  The ticket I was on was spearheaded by a fellow named Cecil Reed, who had revolted against Petrillo in this local.  This is when Local 47 became so volatile.  We swept the old regime right out of office.  Out of all the 20 offices that were contested they did not win one.  I became the first Black officer in 1957.  I remained there for four years and in 1960, I ran for Secretary of the Union, which is a full time job.  I lost by 300 votes.

 Professional Musicians Local 47 Interesting History 

Testimony of Buddy Collette & Marl Young

Central Avenue Sounds and The Birth of Bebop, books
                                Clora Bryant, Buddy Collette, William Green, Steve
                                Isoardi, Jack Kelson, Horace Tapscott, Gerald
                                Wilson, and Marl Young, Editors, members of the Central 
                                Avenue Sounds Editorial Committee
                             
"Central Avenue Sounds: Jazz in Los Angeles"
                                Roth Family Foundation Book in American Music
                                (A Roth Family Foundation Book in American Music)

The Sunbeam Label

The Rhumboogie Label

A Cyber Blues Society 
           Marl Young's Orchestras (Young's band accompanied Walker on the 
             recordings he made 

www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/Author=Young,%20Marl/
 

When we finished, the director of the workshop theater came up and said, "What are you doing?"  I said, "I'm working and rehearsing and arranging--the usual things that musicians do and I'm not starving, but you know I could always make more money."  He said, "We don't know what's going to happen here music-wise.  This is basically and acting workshop but we do want to train some of the kids in music.  If you work for union scale, I'm going to ask for you, even though you aren't in the budget."  I was called in to do another things the the dance choreographer and he told me, "You just be ready to come to work in the morning.  You get up every morning and dress because you might get a call in the morning."  In about four or five days, I did receive a call.  He said, "This is the morning."  I said, "I'll be there in 10 minutes!"  I went down and started working for that workshop theater.  In 1959, the workshop theater gave a review on the lot and I did the basic arrangements.  Although I didn't get the chance to do the orchestrations, which is where the real money is, I did do the basic sketches for some of the things.  I was the pianist and when the conductor was gone, I was the assistant conductor.  This went on for a while.  However, about this time Lucy and Desi were breaking up and dissolving their empire.

In 1962, I got a call from Julian Davis, the contractor, saying , "Lucy is going back on the air. Wilber Hatch and I are doing the theme song.  We'd like for your to come down and demonstrate it."  Now here again, this is where my ability to play different types of music came in very handy since there were a lot of guys on the lot that they could have chosen.  They could have called anybody but during that time, I had to play everything.  And I do mean everything, from Grand Opera right down to funky jazz.  So I went in and everybody was there: Lever Brothers' Soap Company, about 16 executives as well as Desi.  Even though he and Lucy were separated, he was still at the studio and she really depended upon him to put the show together.  Let me say right now he was the best man in the business that I had ever run into.  She had the performance talent but he had the business acumen.  he knew what he was doing in this business and was the smartest man I've ever seen in the business.  After I played the number as it was written, which was a two-beat, show-type tune, Desi said, "Marl, play that as a rumba."  I played his rhumba.  He said, "Now play it as a samba." He said, "Now play it real funky." He called about six or seven styles and I was right there on the spot.  When I got through, he said, "Fine" and we went into his office and they were getting together what they called the warm-up band.  Lucy always hired a band to play for the entertainment of the studio audience while the show was being filmed.  They ran it down just like Broadway stage show.  They were calling out the name of the guy's name and Desi said, "We are going to present different singers in the show every week and we need a very flexible piano player up there."  Then he said, almost offhandedly, "Wilber, why don't you use Marl this time?"  Now just think, I went down there to demonstrate a song and now I will be playing  in the warm-up band for the studio audience!  As I said, this was in 1962 and I was just playing in the warm-up band.  Although every once and awhile they would call me in to rehearse some scenes that they were doing, I wasn't doing the recording sessions, which is where the money is. 

In 1964 we had Roberta Sherwood on the show and they decided to have two musicians, piano and trombone, with Roberta's son playing drums, to appear on camera with her.  We did the show, I was the pianist and when they got ready to do the background music, Wilber said, "Marl, why don't you do this one with us because you know that show?"  Normally because it was comedy, there isn't that much background music needed because they do not want to cover up the punch lines to allow for laughs.  They would usually do two shows at a background recording session for comedy, where they would struggle to do one show for a dramatic show because there is music all the way through.  We did the Roberta Sherwood show and of course, most of the music I had not seen because it was the background music.  But then, because of the other things that I had done on the show, I knew precisely what was happening, of course.  When we got done with the show I just assumed that the piano player, who had been doing the recording session, would  also do the second show.  I felt that I was through so I was getting ready to go home.  However, I sat down and waited.  I looked up and I didn't see the pianist.  That's when Wilber's contractor said, "Let's go back."  I said to myself, "I guess that includes me."  So we went back and the second show music, as luck would have it, was a piano cue where you would start up at the top of the piano and end up at the bottom.  I did it.  We did a couple of takes and then we did the rest of the show.  Nobody had said a word to me about anything except to do the show, which we did when we appeared with Roberta Sherwood.  We got through it and I was sitting on the bandstand while one of the saxophone players, Ben Carter, waved and said, "Hey Marl, you were a smash."  I said, "What are you talking about?"  He said, "The recording session, you were a smash."  I guess I was on trial!  Still, nobody else said a word to me.  About two weeks later, I received a call from Julian Davis.  He said that there would be a Lucy recording on stage F at 9:00a.m. on such a and such a morning.  I got there about a quarter to nine and he came up to me and said, "Where have you been?" I said, "I'm on time."  He said, "No. My heart has been in my mouth all morning. When you do a show like this, you must get here at least 20 minutes ahead of time.  I'll feel more comfortable if everybody is here a half hour ahead of time.  Just look at this like you do theater, where you have to be there a half hour ahead of time.  So please don't do this to me anymore."  Julian and I had become very good friends during the time that I was working the workshop theater.  Within the next couple of weeks, I got another call that there would be a Lucy recording at 9:00a.m. and boy, I was there at 8:30.  Not yet had anyone ever said to me, "You're going to do the recording sessions from now on:"  nothing was said except that I'd get the call and when I finished the recording session, everybody would say, "Fine, I'll see you later."  In a period of two years, I did some writing.  Every once in a while, someone would appear on the show and they'd need something written for a trio and I'd sketch it out, then they would pay me.

In 1966, they started doing a lot of musicals.  I was still sketching.  We did a show with Mel Torme and John Bubbles.  There was a lot of music in this show.  I sketched a little thing, a little cameo spot, that we'd done on one show.  It was a two-parter. The next show Wilber said, "I have got to find an orchestrator."  I didn't say anything.  I  waited until we came to an arrangement that I felt, even if I were drunk, and I don't drink, but even drunk, there was no way I could screw up that arrangement.  I told Wilber, I said, "Wilber, I'd like to do this arrangement."  This thing that Bubbles was doing was strictly night club style, that is where I was born.  Permission was given and that morning, when I walked into the studio, with the arrangement, I was scared!  I felt it was good, but you never know what's going to happened with and arrangement, especially on a TV show.  The arrangement at the end had a change of tempo.  Wilber conducted the first part and suggested that I conduct the last part.  We did one take on the tempo change, fast to slow back to fast.  When we got through with the arrangement, the contractor, Julian Davis, stood up, which I've never seen him do  before, and he congratulated me on a fine arrangement.  I started doing more and more arrangements.  Once we had a show with a whole lot of music in it.  One guy was doing some arrangements and I was also doing some.  By this time, Wilber had a lot of confidence in me.  Whenever we had a conference on music, he would let me decide what I wanted to do.  I remember one time, this guy was doing a military number.  We were all up writing at four in the morning, and the rehearsal was at eight.  We were at the copyist's studio, and we all had been up for days.  I finished mine and the other guy said, "Marl, I'm finished but I can't think of an ending."  I had sort of discussed the ending with Wilber because I had to be involved with the whole show.  I said, "I'll do it."

When we went to recording session that morning and came to this number we went right through it.  At the end of the arrangement, which was my ending, it suddenly sounded as though they had added about ten pieces to the band.  This was because of the different type of voicings that I did.  Wilber looked down at the score and saw my bad handwriting.  He saw the difference because this other guy's writing, his penmanship, was just perfect--mine always looks like hell, no matter what I try to do.  He came to me the next week and said, "I don't know what's going to be happening here, but you seem to know what you're doing on these pre-scores.  I'm just going to turn over the whole operation to you.  If something happens about policy call me, but otherwise, it's your baby."  From then on, it was all put in my lap! 

This went on up until 1969.  During this time, Wilber became ill and a couple of times, he was off and they put me in charge.  I ran the whole operation for two weeks and during this time, I had a chance to demonstrate my conducting ability.  Everything went smoothly.  in 1969, I had been working hard for about seven weeks.  We had finished one show, and Wilber said, "Marl you look like you're about to drop.  Why don't you take some time off?"  He said, "It's near Christmas and we have just one recording session to do.  Why don't you get out of town and get some rest?  We'll get somebody else to do the recording sessions."  Some guys might have said, "Hey, what's happening?" But he was such an honest man and I'd helped him so much, so I didn't thing that.  Also, I was glad to get the time off.  I had all my airline reservations, all the car rental reservations, all the hotel reservations and for the first time in my life I knew where I was going.  I had done everything with efficiency.  The phone rang on my day of departure.  It was the attorney for Lucille Ball, Howard Rafael.  He said, "Wilber Hatch died last night, you better get in here."  I went straight to Gary Morton's office--he was Lucy's husband.  Morton was also the executive producer of the show.  He said, "You're conducting Friday.  Wilber has written one show, orchestrated one show.  He had also written another show but it has to be orchestrated, so you have to orchestrate the one show and you're conducting Friday."  Then he said, "Of course, you've conducted picture in clock?"  I wasn't even supposed to play the session and I had never conducted picture in clock in my life.  I had preciously only done pre-scores and picture in clock is just what it says, you do the music then they film to it.  In background music, they do the filming, then you put the music behind it.  The attorney looked at me as if to say, "Don't open your mouth."  I said nothing.  I went outside with Howard and he said, "I was so afraid that you were going to express some doubt as to whether you could do it. "  I said, "He made a positive statement, he didn't ask me had I done the picture in clock.  I've got four days, this is Monday, I just figure I've got to study hard."  I did the orchestration, which was easy.  Much easier than any other because I had his sketches there.  All I had to do was orchestrate what he had.  But on the cues and suddenly having to time things was a different ball game altogether.  Fortunately he had timed the things so I didn't have to do that but I had to be able to bring my hand down at the right time, and use spilt second timing.  I stayed up for four days writing and rehearsing all the cues, and one cue was very difficult.  It was a cue with Desi Jr.  and Ann Margaret.  By the time I walked into the studio that afternoon, I really had that music committed to memory.  I knew everything that was happening.  I went in scared to death.  We did the first show, and then did the second show with this cue.  I did it once and wasn't satisfied with it.  I did it again and still wasn't exactly satisfied but one of the music editors called me over and said, "don't worry about this because we can move that on the film. Don't feel bad because it was a difficult cue.  Wilber couldn't have done it any better."  That made me feel very good.  Everybody came over to support me, the director, the producer, the camera man and the production man said, "I see you did your homework."

In February, 1970, I was given the job as Musical Director and I stayed there until the show went off the air in 1974.  In 1972, I ran again for the Board of Directors of Local 47 and I won!  In 1973 and 1974, I was on the Board of Directors.  In 1974, the union secretary decided not to run again, and Lucy decided not to do the show anymore.  These two decisions came at about the same time and so the President of Local 47, Max Herman, asked me to run for secretary.  Up to this time we still had not had a full-time Black executive officer on the Board.  In 1974, I ran for secretary and won overwhelmingly! I went into
the union office and worked there as Secretary for eight years.  In 2982, Max decided that he wasn't going to run for President again so I decided to run for President.  It was a rough election and I lost by 220 votes.  During the time that I was secretary of the union, I was also on the California Arts Council.  I was there for six years, before I became chairperson.  Additionally, I served on the Cultural Affairs Commission for the City of Angeles.  I was there for five years.  I served on an Advisory Committee for the Employment Development Department for the state.  I worked on a committee that fostered the hiring of handicapped people in he Motion Picture Industry.  I have served on all sorts of committees, also the Union Legislative Committee.  In fact, the By-Laws that they are operating under now, most of them were written when I was Chairperson of Legislative Committee in Local 47. 

I have had a full life.  That is one reason I decided to rest when I came out the union in 1983, because was so tired.  I'm not involved in anything now,  and I don't want to be.  I used three Black musicians in the Lucy Show when I became the Musical Director.  I went to the executive producer, Gary Morton and said, "I would like the people to understand me when I work for them.  I am going to integrate the recording orchestra."  He said, "I thought you would."  I hired Jackie Kelsey, saxophone, John (Streamline) Williams, trombone and Melvin Moore on trumpet. 

Illustriously, my community activities are as varied as my multitasked profile.  I was elected to and served three consecutive terms on the Board of Directors for the Los Angeles NAACP; Served one year as Chairman of the Labor and Industry Committee of the NAACP's Los Angeles Chapter; Served several years on the Board of Directors of the Democratic Minority Conference, later served one year as the Chairperson of the DMC, formed by Attorney Vaira Spencer, now an Appellate Court Justice for the State of California; Appointed to the California Arts Council by Governor Jerry Brown, where I served for seven years, one year as Vice Chairman and another year as Chairman; Served as Chairman of the Regional Arts Council, which consisted of California, Alaska, Hawaii, Guam, the Northern Marianas and American Samoa; Appointed by Mayor Tom Bradley to the Los Angeles Cultural Affairs Commission, where I served for four years then served as President for the last two years.  I now serve as a Volunteer at the Remedial Reading and Learning School, located at Washington Boulevard and Manhattan Avenue.  I help the students with problems in reading, spelling, arithmetic and socio-political subjects.  Our purpose at the school is to prepare the students for high school.  I have served for three years at this school.  It is my pleasure to participate in the ongoing circle of life.

Photos courtesy of Charles Walton
Biographical information from Marl Young