The election campaign was the reason for not writing on Ben E. King’s death

AUGUST 23, 2015 | BY KNEWS | FILED UNDER FEATURES / COLUMNISTS, FREDDIE KISSOON

When you grew up in South Georgetown in the sixties, then Ben E. King is someone whose name is embedded in your memory bank. When King died on April 30 this year, it was ten days before Guyana’s most historic general election. I was virtually engrossed in that process because my future depended on its outcome. I wanted the PPP to lose because I was afraid for my future and that of my family’s. I spent every night on the campaign trail. I crusaded not only out of obligation to two friends who were valuable to me – Khemraj Ramjattan and Nigel Hughes – but for very personal reasons. I would be lying to say I energized myself during the election period basically to help the AFC. I did want to see the AFC replace the PPP. But it wasn’t the only reason I threw myself into the election battle. As for the PNC, I was prepared to help but no one except Basil Williams, on occasions when we meet on the High Court corridor, ever talked to me about doing work for the PNC. I must admit I owe Minister Joe Harmon a debt. I was sued for libel by someone Joe is close to and he advised his friend not to pursue the libel when the case was called. WPA, like the PNC, was part of the APNU bandwagon, and there is no way I could refuse a request from WPA stalwarts – Tacuma Ogunseye and Dr. David Hinds to help. Once the WPA remains in APNU, I am constrained to contribute. I campaigned for me in the May 2015 general poll. I did it for me and I should be honest about it, because a victory for the PPP had terrible implications for my physical safety. I hardly had time for anything during the election campaign. From morning to midnight and beyond I was with the AFC bandwagon. I honestly did not know that around that period, the great R&B and Soul singer Ben E. King had died. Here is how I knew. My car collapsed on Vryheid’s Lust public road in the entourage during the anniversary march to commemorate the 1823 slave uprising. My vehicle was in front of Elton McCrae’s when we heard this loud explosion. The marchers suggested that I leave immediately. I drove to my mechanic, “Smallie” in Bel Air. His assistant Kwame heard the oldies playing in my car. It was a Ben E. King song. Kwame said he liked oldies the type Ben E. King sings. “Smallie chipped in, said he liked Ben E. King too, and informed Kwame, who wasn’t born when King was a superstar, that the name is spelt Ben E. and not Benny. I promised both I will get King’s songs for them. The same day I bought bananas from the famous fruits caravan at East and Church Streets, and as I was about to drive off, the owner came to the front passenger seat for a little chat. Ben E. King was playing. He said he liked Ben. E. King. I asked if he would play King if I buy his songs for him. He said, “maan I like oldies like dat.” I went to my favourite push cart music vendor to buy King. As we were talking, he said, “De maan die de other day, yuh know.” I was shocked. I asked when? He didn’t know. He just said; “de other day.” I went to Google. The great soul singer passed away on April 30. The world has lost an immense talent. Music has lost a great voice. Ben E. King had one of the most attractive voices in pop music. That saccharine uniqueness that flowed so smoothly will not be easy to find in the foreseeable future. I always remember the songs of Ben E. Growing up in Durban Street, Wortmanville are memories that will live in my mind forever. Unemployed, half-starved with nothing to do when the days and nights came, music was a source of mental survival. Saturday night at Tutorial School on Bent Street, next door to the Vincent Alexander family home, was the big moment in Wortmanville. We would gamble outside the school in the middle of the street while inside, people danced to the inimitable Ben E. King. I grew up with the Drifters, Ben E. King, Chuck Jackson, Otis Redding. From Jamaica there were the Blues Busters, Boris Gardener and Ken Lazarus. The radio station had a Friday night billboard chart and at one time Lazarus had half of the hits on the chart. They dominated the airwaves. My friends didn’t like Engelbert Humperdinck and the Beatles but I did. They called it “white people music.” Rest in Peace, Ben.E. Thanks for the music.