An Our American Stories Listener Remembers His Jazz Playing Father

On this episode of Our American Stories, one of our listeners, George Gozzard, shares the story of his big band trumpeter father, Harry Gozzard

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:10):
And we returned to our American stories. Harry Gazard was
an American jazz trumpeter who played from the nineteen thirties
all the way to nineteen eighty. Today, we're going to
hear from his son, George, sharing some memories he holds
about his father's time in the big band lifestyle.

Speaker 2 (00:29):
I grew up in Warren, Michigan, a blue collar city
just north of Detroit. It's the automobile capital of the world.
At one time, Warren had more factories than any other
city in the entire country. Except for my dad. It
seemed as if every kid that I knew when I
was growing up had a dad who worked on the
assembly line for one of the big three car companies.

(00:52):
Even though my dad didn't directly work for gm Ford Chrysler,
he did help its workers relax during their time off
with his usual and playful profession that he sometimes referred
to as work. Harry Gozard was a big band musician,

(01:14):
and a very good one at that. My dad truly
enjoyed soothing the ears off of the residence of Metro
Detroit with his hot lips and cool trumpet. From what
I understand, he was one of the best trumpet players
in the country. Harry Gozard was born on a farm
in Shelbourne, Ontario, Canada. In nineteen twenty four, at eight

(01:38):
years of age, he his parents and three siblings migrated
to Detroit. He dropped out of high school when he
was just a teenager and began traveling around the country
tooting his trumpet. I'm not certain, but I think it
was the Sam Donogue Orchestra who asked my dad to
drop out of school and join their band. For all

(01:59):
I know, my grandma parents were diametrically opposed to him
doing so. Nevertheless, he did it anyway. He was one
of the fortunate few musicians who was able to record
a few record albums during his musical career. My dad's fame,
if you will, was even noticed by some people who

(02:19):
I never thought of as being a fan of his.
I still remember when my kindergarten teacher, missus Mitchell, came
up to me during class one day and told me
how much she enjoyed watching and listening to my dad
perform at the Elmwood Casino the previous night. The Elmwood
was a premier night club for the residents of Metro

(02:40):
Detroit and southern Ontario. It was located just across the
Detroit River in the beautiful city of Windsor. Many well
known entertainers performed there. Sammy Davis Junior, Anne Margaret, Tony Bennett,
Bob Newhart, Patty Page, and Tom Jones were some of
the celebs that my dad worked with. Although my dad

(03:05):
retired from the big band way of life when I
was very young, there were a few times and I
had the opportunity to watch him perform live on stage.
During the nineteen sixties, he played on the Saint Clair
and the Columbia river boats. The Saint Clair and the
Columbia transported excited passengers down the Detroit River to the

(03:28):
locally famous boblo Island Amusement Park. The cruise was about
a two hour long voyage that originated from Detroit. Cruising
down the Detroit River while watching my dad play his
trumpet before a live audience of hundreds of people and
getting to play all day at Bablo was probably one
of the coolest things that I ever did when I

(03:49):
was a kid. Another cool memory that I have of
my dad performing was the time when he played in
the band for the al Canline Day celebration at Tiger State.
It was on August second, nineteen seventy. The legendary singer
songwriter Mel Tormae nicknamed the Velvet Fog, saying thanks for

(04:10):
the memory due to the fact that my dad brought
my mom and all of us kids to that memorable
baseball game. He was late getting to the stadium. I
have seven siblings, as you can imagine, getting a large
family the size of ours ready for a notable event
like that was a monumental task. I vividly remember the

(04:32):
commotion going on that particular day. It was reminiscent of
the scene in the first Home Alone movie where they
were all rushing around to get ready for their big
flight to Paris. Long story short. In order to kick
off the festivities for al Caline's big day, the band
in a sold out crowd of fifty thousand anxious fans

(04:52):
had to wait a few moments for their tardy trumpeter
to arrive. The absolute coolest memory that I have of
my dad performing was the time when he played at
the Grand Hotel. It's a ritzy hotel that is situated
on picturesque Mackinaw Island. Even to this day, it still

(05:13):
happens to be a great place to visit. When I
was about ten years old, my dad played two back
to back stints there in the summertime. Since mckinaw Island
was located roughly three hundred miles away from where we lived,
he unfortunately had to leave my mom and all of
his children at home for the summer. To commute back

(05:34):
and forth every weekend was simply out of the question.
Greatly missing him. During the second summer, my brother Greg
and I drove all the way up there to visit
him for a few days. Actually, we first drove to
Mcinaw City. From there we hopped on a high speed
ferry and cruise to the island. The eight mile journey
across beautiful Lake Huron took only about twenty to thirty minutes. However,

(05:58):
it was not without incident. At about eight o'clock in
the morning, my brother and I arrived at the boat
dock parking lot. As soon as we got out of
his cool Caprice Classic, we both unconcernedly noticed that it
was very foggy out on the lake. Since my brother
and I were nautical novices at the time, we had

(06:18):
no idea that cruising on a large body of water
and a heavy dense fog was considered to be a
maritime hazard. To my brother and me, though, that fog
was no big deal, so we just went up to
the ticket counter and bought our ferry fare to the island.
About ten minutes after the ferry left the dock, we
heard several really loud horn blasts coming from our vessel

(06:40):
and several other loud blasts that were coming from another
vessel which seemed to be too close for comfort. All
of a sudden, the captain of the ferry turned the
wheel very hard to port or to the left, seemingly
trying to avoid a collision with another boat. The captain
turned the ship's wheel so hard that window that my

(07:01):
brother and I were sitting next to was completely submerged.
Right about then, our own common sense began to let
us know that something was dreadfully wrong with this picture. Fortunately,
though a few minutes later, the ferries seemed to level
out and return to its normal operating procedure. I immediately

(07:21):
began to turn my head from side to side, much
to my surprise, while looking out at the starboard side window,
I noticed the stern of a massive freighter that was
only about one hundred yards away from us. Apparently, the
captain of our vessel almost broadsided a very large freighter.
Who knows, Perhaps the freighter we nearly collided with was

(07:42):
the legendary SS and Min Fitzgerald. Hey, it could have
been more than likely, though it probably wasn't. Nevertheless, this
legend of mine will not only live on from the
Chippewa on down, but with every other individual who loves
a seaworthy story. As soon as we safely arrived on

(08:05):
Macinn Island, our dad happily greeted us at the boat dock.
He then took us for a stroll down main street.
We immediately began to experience what it was like to
live in an earlier age of long ago. No cars
were permitted on that island at the time. At first,
it was very strange not being able to hear the
sound of one single motor. However, I did get used

(08:27):
to it real quick. Actually, it was rather nice not
hearing the sounds of motors, horns and squealing tires for
a few days. Since there wasn't any motor vehicles to
travel around, and we either had to walk, ride a
bike or ride in a horse drawn carriage in order
to get around the island. The night that I saw

(08:49):
my dad play in the majestic Grand Hotel ballroom was
really special. I felt like I was in an old
nineteen forties movie. There were people all over that ballroom
who were dressed up in formal attire as they dance
to the swinging beat of the big band. Sold All
in all, that pleasant memory of my dad, as well
as every other pleasant one, is something that I'll cherish forever.

Speaker 1 (09:15):
And great job on the production by Madison Derricott, and
a special thanks to George Gazard for sharing the story
of his musician father Harry sharing with us most importantly
the gigs, because that's what you remember if you have
a musician parent. The gigs and the gigs were my
goodness of every variety in kind, from steamboats to casinos

(09:36):
to the Grand Hotel at mackinaw Island. And if you
have never been to Mackinawe Island in Michigan, take a
family trip there over the summer. It may be one
of the most beautiful places in America. The story of
Harry Gozard as told by his son George here on
our American Stories