I’m distressed to hear the news of America’s Mayor, Rudy Giuliani. As you have most likely heard, he lies in critical condition in a Florida hospital, which I choose not to name, yet others obnoxiously have.
Rudy and I have a history.
I was 23 years old. A young singer in California who basically went to the then newly emerging Karaoke bars, drank beers, and collected money for winning the weekend singing contests. I didn’t think much of it at first; it was just fun, but someone who worked at a studio asked me one night if I would like to record a track or two. So I did. And it was fun. And sounded pretty decent. This was in the day of cassette tapes, so I made a few copies and happened to attend a Mel Torme concert in Palm Springs. So I go backstage after and hand him a tape. I’ve written about this before. His musical director listened and asked me to move to New York to sing with his own band. I did it. And many crazy things began to happen.
Among the crazy things, I was introduced to the late Lionel Hampton via Torme’s musical director. He called people he liked “Gates.” I came to learn that that was code for musicians he thought had swing. He called me that, and it made me happy. “What up, Gates?” He would say. I actually ended up getting a cat and naming her Gates just to amuse him.
Anyway, a few weeks after my arrival in New York City, Rudy was elected Mayor. Lionel asked me to sing with his orchestra at the inaugural, which blew my mind. I literally stood there singing a ballad as Rudy and his then-wife, Donna, slow danced next to me. It was a real moment. Lionel, at nearly 80, was drooling on the vibes yet killing it. I will never forget that day and the celebration.
New York City was an absolute disaster. Yet almost overnight, it changed dramatically. Crime plummeted. I saw it all in real time. The city functioned, as it does not today, sadly. I hate going to New York today, despite the music memories and family nostalgia.
Rudy’s leadership in general, alongside his people like the recently departed former NYPD Commissioner Bernard Kerik (RIP, Bernie), was amazing. But nothing was more amazing than the leadership on 9/11. I happened to be living in Washington, D.C., at that point, but was watching the news from New York when a plane suddenly hit the Pentagon. I was two blocks away in a hotel lobby, where we were hosting an event.
I understand and appreciate that maybe some of Rudy’s later in life decisions may not sit well with some — and he paid a high price for those decisions — but let us remember his service (I’m just scratching the surface — there’s much more to be told, but I only have so much space).
So, in his hour of distress, which could even be his final hours, let us be kind and recall his service to New York City and the nation and pray for him. That’s all. God bless you, Mr. Mayor. We love you.
Editor’s Note: Do you enjoy PJ Media’s conservative reporting that takes on the radical left and woke media? Support our work so that we can continue to bring you the truth.
Join PJ Media VIP and use promo code FIGHT to receive 60% off your membership.
