Then as we were playing, I realized that he was leaning on me. Apparently he couldn’t stand on his own feet then and then I had to switch parts right there because he was playing very mildly instead. The boldness had gone out from his instrument.
After the show—that was at one of the early shows at the legendary Apollo Theater in Harlem, we had two shows that day—we would normally take like a half-hour break and come back to do the next show. That day we had to stay for over two hours because we had to lift David off the stage and we had to revive him with some very sweet sugar water. He laid flat on his back like a boxer that had just been knocked out, I’ll never forget it. It’s always a laugh when we remember it.
David learned his lesson and never touched Bob’s juice again. For Bob it was OK, he could take it. I don’t know what was in that jug, but I’m sure that some powerful ganja was there, or maybe some other mixture of some other drugs. I’m not into the drugs so I wouldn’t know. But for it to have that kind of effect on David, it must have been some really special stuff.
ROGER STEFFENS: Sound mixer Karl Pitterson was impressed by Bob’s keen control of his audiences while withstanding intense pain.
KARL PITTERSON: In 1979 I think Bob was going through a lot of unannounced suffering that he privately kept inside to himself. But I knew that something was going to happen, a year before Bob’s collapse while we were on tour. I said it to Al Anderson, the guitar player, that hey, something is wrong, really wrong, because I could hear it in his voice. Like he would try to get to a certain note. It was one of the hardest things. But to the public they never realized it. Even though, when he would try and before it was really executed he would realize it and—whoops, don’t think I’m going to make that note, so he would change. And I would notice that. That was just a telltale sign. That was a flag that was really waving that I saw, especially in that last year. I think he went through a lot of discomfort. A lot.
He was hyper and he was a very, very good singer. He knew stuff that certain artists keep secret, the way to deal with a crowd, like Michael Jackson.
ROGER STEFFENS: A month later, Betty Wright would be the conduit for an intriguing invitation that would bring Bob Marley and the Wailers to Africa.
BETTY WRIGHT: The story is, I, when I was about fifteen, I went on tour with James Brown. And I was introduced to Brown’s business associate Charles Bobbitt about two years earlier. When we got to L.A. in ’79, Bobbitt showed up and he says, “You know, I’m living in Africa now, I’m working for Omar Bongo. And he’s the president of Gabon, Libreville,” and telling me all about what he’s doing. And I’m going, “What? What? When did you leave America?” And he says, “This is Pascaline and Albertine Bongo. They’re real Bob Marley fans. They want to meet him.” So we got them some passes to go in and meet Bob. They ended up being the best of friends. Their father had bought them a house I think on Foothill Road in Beverly Hills. And we had a massive party there, and they just rolled out the red carpet.
One of them had a birthday coming up. So they said, “Wonder if you guys would be available, ’cause we may ask my father to have you guys come over.” And I thought, “Oh yeah, right, all of us, right?” Don’t you know, they brought us to Gabon that January of 1980.
GILLY GILBERT: It was the daughters of President Bongo. They were acknowledging his work over the years. They were fascinated by Bob, and involved with his music, so they invited him over. We were there about a week. We stayed at a hotel named after a palace. Nice hotel.
BETTY WRIGHT: We did two nights, and all I can tell you is, it was the time of my life! Everything was just first-class. They rolled out tables of food. We were all in the palace. Everything, games, shopping, anything we wanted to do, Bob looked out for us. So this particular night they say, “You know, we own a disco.” And I thought, whoa, what kind of disco in Africa, what is this gonna look like, ’cause some of the town was very, very rural. Baby, it was like they took it out of the heart of France, the whole decor was so nice. I haven’t seen anything like it since. But we got up and started dancing to these songs, and Bob got up with his, you know, hitting the back of his heel and stuff, doing these dances. We danced all night, he had so much energy! We danced to all kinds of music! They had everything from America, they had African music, they had Bob’s music. We were dancing to his songs at the time, like “Jamming”—we had fun!
GILLY GILBERT: I can remember traveling to the marketplace and mingling with the people. It seems to me that the folks treated us like royalty. They followed us everywhere we go; every step we took, they were right behind us. During that time we took on the road with us tapes, records, posters, and they went like hot bread. We were giving some away and selling some, just trying to pick up a vibe. People that was coming to the market just buy stuff off us. We bought collard greens, cabbages of various kinds. They cooked for us also at the hotel, African style.
ROGER STEFFENS: One afternoon they met with President Bongo in the royal palace, a scene described by Bruce Talamon, the photographer whom Bob had summoned to accompany him on the trip, as “looking like something straight out of the opening scenes of the Eddie Murphy movie Coming to America.” Gilly accompanied Bob and remembers two enormous doors opening to reveal Bongo on his throne.
GILLY GILBERT: We met him at his palace. He was attired in his robe and his ornaments. He talked to Bob about his music and his life, his country and his people. The trip was really for his kids, they were really the main focus of the trip—the Bongo sisters.
ROGER STEFFENS: Bob was most comfortable in spots like the market-places and the beach in front of the hotel. He welcomed all comers to his hotel room, and mingled freely with other early risers who strolled along the lapping waters of the Gabon estuary.
GILLY GILBERT: In the mornings we would walk on the beach. A lot of people came to see Bob and was around us. Mostly a lot of kids. They were waiting on us as we stepped out of the hotel. They were fascinated over our lifestyle and our music and Bob himself. They looked upon Bob as a king. They knew Bob’s music, it was amazing, people so far off. Bob was so happy to be with his people and be spreading the word through his music and through his image of Rasta livity.
BRUCE TALAMON: One morning Bob was walking along the beach and this young man came up to him and challenged him: “What’s this Rasta stuff? What do you mean coming to Africa, telling us about Africa?” The kid wanted him to tell them more. Bob took his time and explained to them about his excitement being there and also about the black diaspora, you and me are the same, I’m a black man from Jamaica, you’re from Africa, we all come from Africa. Then he posed for some pictures with him, gathering soccer style like they were on a team together. I was so impressed by the symbolism of Bob standing there on the roots of a huge tree and being the teacher.
BETTY WRIGHT: Once we went market shopping with him. And I think we went looking for some fabric for the I Three. But most of the time when I was with Bob, like I would just watch him play what they call football, what we call soccer. Just out in the street, anywhere, ’cause Bob would take the ball out and play anywhere. So basically, he didn’t do a lot of excursion kind of things. We did interviews, but they had events for us. Like at night they’d close a restaurant and we’d eat in there.
JUDY MOWATT: It was my very first time in Africa. I was expecting to see African people speaking in their own tongue, but then Gabon was a French territory, so they spoke French. I was hoping to see African people ruling their own destiny there, I wasn’t expecting to see people—not that they are colonized, but they weren’t free. There were people that were unemployed and there were people that were employed who were menially paid. Their wages were very, very low. And when I went to the marketplace, I saw the people, they didn’t have refrigeration for their meat. And I saw their meat turn blue, and they were still selling it.
I think Bob stayed extra time, because going that far he would need to see what the country is like. I mean, you have seen one side of it, you need to
see the other part of it, you need to interact with your own people. The streets. The people were so happy to see him. Bob is always communicating, and he’s always giving them fatherly advice. He’s always asking them questions, so he was able to say a lot with the street people. He had young people with him who spoke English.
Gabon was beautiful, yes. But we never got to play in a large stadium where all the people could come out and see us. We performed for the King and the King’s daughters in a small stadium and all the elites were there. And it disturbed us because our people, who we are really appealing to, they weren’t able to come and see us.
ROGER STEFFENS: Danny Sims’s brother Eddie, a prominent record executive, was also a member of Bob’s party.
EDDIE SIMS: We were there for their holidays, about ten days. The president was running for office again, and he was the only one running. It was really strange. Otherwise, it was an interesting country. I got a chance to run around the markets and the ocean where the slaves used to be sent to here. Rich country—poor, but rich, with timber and all that stuff. We went to the nightclub at night and had a good time. They played mostly American music, and Bob Marley music. But what really stressed me, though, I was in the club and ordered a Coca-Cola and Coca-Cola was seven dollars American money. We said, wait a minute, how do these people afford this, especially these people who live there who have very little money. Most of the money in the country is from the people who got these jobs, who’s running the government and who’s running the big companies and who’s running the industries. Which is cool. They put us in a five-star hotel, guards around us every night with shotguns and AK-47s, guarding the hotels.
We played in the state soccer field, and I was jogging around the compound and came around the corner of these buildings and I saw these kids lying on the ground. Police officers and soldiers had a long stick with a big round ball on the end of it, hard like a knot from a tree, and they take like a little whip and they was popping these kids upside the head, sounded like a watermelon being crushed. So I said boy, let me get out of here. I shot back up to the stage and I said, don’t you guys go over to that corner there. That’s not nice. The kids was jumping over the fence, they had no money. It’s like anywhere else, people try to get in for free.
ROGER STEFFENS: It was during the Gabon trip that Bob discovered irregularities that led to Don Taylor’s dismissal as his manager.
BETTY WRIGHT: I would always say, what is done in the dark always comes to the light. What happened with that situation was, we had received a phone call from Mr. Bobbitt [her friend who had worked with James Brown] in America and he came to take care of whatever business was to be taken care of. And we met him—myself, Don Taylor’s wife, I think her name was April—to pick up said monies for the job. And like any other job, you get to have your money up front, and then you go. But, unknown to Bob, there was a situation of some airplane tickets. The story has it that the travel agency was even owned by the same set of people [Taylor]. And the prices were real different from what they were supposed to be. Everything was like kicked right back into the same hand. So there was a statement made, in just like casual talking where somebody was saying, “God, Bob has almost three times as many people as Betty, but she’s making almost as much money as Bob!” I said, “No, I’m not. He’s making three times what I’m making.” You know, without giving figures. I knew that! Because I know I picked up my half, and they picked up their half. But it was told to Bob that there was no other half. That it was just what he was picking up. So I don’t know who the exact culprits were, but on the nice side I tried to get it dispelled with. My allegiance was to Mr. Bobbitt who I knew all my life. And I said, “I can’t allow this to go forward like it’s going when I know the truth! If they ask me, I’m not going to stand up there and lie. And I don’t have no fear. What are they going to do, beat me up, you know what I’m saying? No, you got that money. I was standing there. Your wife, you signed, you got it.” And Mr. Bobbitt was explaining to me that they were trying to make it look like he was not taking care of his end of the business. I went to who I thought could get the message to Bob. Eventually, I just had to go direct. And when they checked it out, they found out I was telling the truth. Because I’m an entertainer, and we work hard, and how dare someone try to take it. They called me, I was like the third confirmation, because different people knew the story. But what they wanted to know was, who was in America at that time that knew. Someone had already, you know how beans spill. But I could not lie.
So Bob asked me. He knew that this was my friend, he knew how he had met the girls, Pascaline and Albertine; he knew the whole situation. And he knew that if anybody’s going to tell the truth, it’s going to be Betty. He knew that I was a minister, he knew that my first allegiance is to God Almighty.
ROGER STEFFENS: Betty had uncovered a plot to rob Marley of his proper fee. Soon rumors began that Don had been roughed up by members of Bob’s entourage, and actually hung out a window in an attempt to get him to confess his perfidy.
BETTY WRIGHT: I heard that Taylor got a beating. I heard that there was a gallon of milk poured over his head or something. I wasn’t up there. I was in the hotel, but I didn’t go on the floor, because I heard it was a ruckus. And I knew that certain things had transpired, but see, that was like the fuse was already lit. That was just like, hey! It was inevitable.
Taylor did fly back with us. I just have to compare it. Going over he was like real catty and stuff, but going back he was real quiet. He was very demoted. I heard about the fight while we had a layover at this hotel, the Novotel in France. They were talking about it. They just said that nobody’s going to steal anything from Bob. How hard Bob works. And that Taylor should have come clean. You know, just basically the same thing that I thought. They kept saying he got what was coming to him.
Since then, I’ve talked to Don. You know, we kick it. I don’t know if he ever came to grips with that, but that’s what really happened.
ROGER STEFFENS: I interviewed Don Taylor at the Reggae Archives in 1988. He offered a revealing comment about Bob’s character that indirectly reflects on the controversy.
DON TAYLOR: Bob is a man that sifted out people. For instance, Bob would have one girl, and he would try to get all her friends in line. But the thing is that the minute they allow themselves to be manipulated he lost respect for them. There’s nothing else there. That’s how he’d work. Bob was always trying to be. And you see, Bob was the kind of guy who played stupid, but was one of the most intelligent, wisest persons that I ever dealt with. He’s the only artist that takes three days to count tour receipts after you give it to him.
ROGER STEFFENS: Taylor’s alleged machinations weren’t what ended the trip, however.
EDDIE SIMS: We had a nice time and we were enjoying ourselves up to a certain point. And that was the point we had a little altercation and we had to leave.
ROGER STEFFENS: Donnice Sims is Danny Sims’s sister. She was a member of the party that went to Gabon with Bob, doing wardrobe, mostly for Betty Wright.
DONNICE SIMS: I remember being evicted from the country over herb. It wasn’t everybody; it was one particular guy, who was our guide. One day we said, come on, let’s get a bus. And we all went out in the wild and drove through and stopped. All the Rastas, Bob, everybody went. And the way the Rastas smoke those big things—the guide wasn’t trying to be a smoker. You can’t even see in front of you because of the smoke. So I’m sure he had that. Then he had some kind of stuff that we pulled off at the side and the smoke was coming off the bottle. They were making it, and Bob and them loved it. And they were so happy, they got off the bus and the people welcomed all the Rastas and Bob. It was a big thing. And the guide had some of that, whatever that was. I know he smoked, ’cause when he got back he was going up and down, the music was going, he went from being introverted and dignified to a “Yes! Whoop! Ras-ta-mon!!” And he got into an altercation with the police and he hit them and they asked him if he’d been smoking
. And the next thing we know, there’s heavy knocking on the door. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” We were like, “What? What?” I don’t know if it was early morning or late at night, we had to get out. “But we have to do a concert,” we said. We couldn’t do the concert. They threw us out, because they don’t allow any kind of drugs. That’s not something that they do. They had a bus and they drove us to the airport right up to the plane and made all these schoolgirls, I think they were going back to Sweden or London or somewhere, but they made them get off and made us get on. I don’t know if all of us got totally into the plane. But the next thing I know is that they told us we had to come back because they were having a riot because Bob wasn’t going to be there and there were all these people at the stadium waiting for Bob. But they had to set an example and said we don’t have none of this smoking and stuff around here. But to Bob and them, that wasn’t a crime, that was part of their religious culture.
And so then we got back on the bus. And we drove into a crowd of zillions of people. I had never seen anything like it. And they were cheering and everything. So when the bus came in we run into a mob—all I know is that we had one of those huge school buses, and the crowd was banging, “Bob Marley! Bob Marley!” And the bus was rocking, we went all the way down and then all the way back. It was all those people pounding, you know how they could turn over something with the force of people? Next thing I know he was up on the stage.
So Much Things to Say: The Oral History of Bob Marley Page 35
