But info gleaned from the photo's credits are enough to get one's imagination roiling. The image was captured at Seattle's Roxwell Studio in the Roxwell Building (at the "Corner of Front and Columbia" streets -- today's First Avenue & Columbia Streets) on the Roxwell Block. Alas, the name "Roxwell" does not appear in Carl Mautz' authoritative 1997 tome, Biographies of Western Photographers: A Reference Guide to Photographers Working in the 19th century American West.
The circa 1880s Roxwell Building (106 Columbia Street) was, however, home to numerous notable tenants -- including Conrad Rideout, the African-American lawyer and Democratic politician who arrived here from Arkansas in 1891 -- the same year that Augustas Koch's famous illustrated birds-eye-view map of Seattle (which included the Roxwell Building) was printed by the Hughes Lithography Co. Around that same time the prominent African-American photographer James P. Ball arrived from Montana, moved into the Roxwell, and established his Ball and Sons Studio which operated there for a decade. During those early times, Seattle was still transforming from a soggy sawmill town into the bustling jump-off point for thousands of crazed gold-seekers heading up to the Alaska and Yukon Gold Rushes. Judging by her appearances alone, Ms. Jackson was perhaps more likely to be a musician who would pluck out a few old-timey hymns for her family's fireside gospel hour than entertain the leering loggers, miners and sailors swarming rough-&-tumble bars like Pioneer Square's Bucket of Blood room -- or even perhaps the clients at Madame Damnable's infamous house of ill-repute just down the block at First Avenue & Main Street. But is it at all possible that our Annie Jackson is the same one that was -- as noted by local historian Quintard Taylor in his 1994 book, The Forging of a Black Community: Seattle's Central District from 1870 through the Civil Rights Era -- listed in the 1891 Seattle Directory as an African-American music teacher?
Final sad proof that just enough time had passed by so as to have thoroughly confused some people about these two Wailers arose in 1993 when Bill Graham's San Francisco-based rock 'n' roll empire issued a series of limited-edition silk neckties with designs based on his old psychedelic Fillmore West & Avalon Ballroom posters. Seen here is Graham's "Reggae at the Fillmore" (!) tie – with artwork borrowed from Wes Wilson's classic poster (BG 11) for the June 17-18, 1966, Fillmore shows which featured Haight Ashbury's Quicksilver Messenger Service & the Wailers (with special mention noted of their latest Top-5 West Coast radio hit, "It's You Alone"). Clearly there were no shantytown Rastamen at the Fillmore those nights – but such shoddy handling of history caused the band, in 1993, to begin rebranding themselves on various CDs & gig posters as "The Boys From Tacoma."
This musically progressive quartet "exploded onto the Seattle jazz scene in 1950, introducing the rhythmic fire of bebop to an eager new audience," noted my colleague, jazz historian Paul de Barros. Indeed, they "quickly became a regional sensation. Commanding breakneck tempos, the quartet's aggressive rhythm section mesmerized crowds across Seattle, Tacoma, and Yakima. Young was a modern piano player whose sparse, fierce, and harmonically sophisticated playing propelled his quartet."
Upon its 1951 release, the Concert of Cool Jazz 10"sold quite well – the first Seattle-produced disc to catch outside ears since Ray Charles' 1949 Maxin Trio recordings had effectively launched his remarkable career. Indeed, sales of the the disc broke out in California (and then in France when issued there by Vogue Records) after America's ace jazz critic, San Francisco's Ralph Gleason, raved that "Who Parked the Car" was the best scat solo ever recorded. Even Nat King Cole described the tunes as "the swingiest bop I've ever heard." And with those accolades, the quartet's Seattle days were numbered: the nation's greatest talent bookers, the William Morris Agency, signed the band, a national tour commenced, & after a final show at New York's fabled jazz room, Birdland, the Cecil Young Quartet's members split the scene. Of the foursome, I know that Hubert returned to Seattle where we first met up nearly two decades ago -- & lemme tell you: he was still a very hip cat.
Well, not quite: even though the newspaper figured that the single's A-side ("Jungle Bunny") was an innocent "Easter-timed" (!) single, its title was actually based on some racist graffiti that Hall had once seen as a little girl. Williams thought it had "a slight edge due to its unusual style," but its edginess caused it to flop – so he began promoting the B-side, "My Heart's Desire," without much more luck. Three additional tunes -- "She'll Understand," "Baby Drop Top" & "I Laughed So Hard" -- were also cut, the latter finally surfacing on compilation CDs in 1995.
Back in Seattle -- & now recast as the Four Pearls -- they were signed in July, 1960, by Bob Reisdorff to his Dolton Records label which was scoring hits with Northwest acts like the Fleetwoods, Ventures & Frantics. The beautiful "Look At Me" (with Dave Lewis on piano) & "It's Almost Tomorrow" (with the Frantics) were cut by audio engineer, Kearney Barton, at his Northwest Recorders studio (622 Union Street). When issued by Dolton around August, KOL & various other Northwest radio stations gave "Look At Me" some support, but it failed to grow into a broader hit & the Four Pearls headed to Canada where they played their final gigs.
