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" Local R&B recording artist and singer Ollie Nightingale died Oct. 26 of complications due to pneumonia at Methodist Hospital Germantown in Memphis. "
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Ross Gohlke
Local R&B recording artist and singer Ollie Nightingale died Oct. 26 of complications due to pneumonia at Methodist Hospital Germantown in Memphis. He was 61. A public memorial service was held Oct. 31 at Magnolia First Baptist Church on Cooper. Burial will take place at 10 a.m. Monday, Nov. 3, at the West Tennessee Veteran's Cemetery on Forest Hill-Irene Road. Born Ollie Hoskins in 1936, Nightingale began his career as a gospel singer in the 1950s with the Gospel Writer Junior Boys, a junior gospel group under the tutelage of the Gospel Writer Quartet. In 1958, he joined a gospel group called the Dixie Nightingales, who cut records for a host of small labels over the next ten years before they went secular and changed their name to Ollie and the Nightingales. They cut several hits for Stax, including "I've Got a Sure Thing" (which Nightingale re-recorded almost 30 years later for his second Ecko release Tell Me What You Want Me To Do). For the next 25 years Nightingale worked in relative obscurity as a solo artist, enjoying a brief stints of limited success in the South, as when he toured with Bobby Rush in the mid-'80s. * * * The first time I saw Ollie Nightingale perform was at the Place 2B back in 1995. He was just one performer in an all-night lineup. I had never heard of him, but when his time came, he electrified the room and left a soul-sized impression on me. It was the first all-black musical experience I had ever been to, and it made me want more. Ollie wasn't even the headliner that night, but he took the stage in what became for me his signature style-dressed to the nines, swaggering about like a crown prince, wailing like the blues wouldn't leave him alone. A mild-mannered gentleman offstage, Ollie's performance persona was nothing short of electrifying, outrageous and inviting. The wildest moment of a truly wild night came when Ollie stepped off the stage and into the crowd, stooping to put his head in a woman's lap, never missing a note of the song he was singing. After that night I lost track of Ollie. But I never forgot about his performance. I encountered Ollie again in 1997 after he had joined forces with John Ward and Ecko Records, the local label responsible for Ollie's three recent releases. The real tragedy is the timing of Ollie's death: with a brand new album out on local label Ecko Records (and two already in the can), Ollie was at the height of his career. * * * Nightingale's last performance was at the New Club Paradise here in Memphis Oct. 4, where he and his backing band Fade shared the bill with Marvin Sease and Nightingale's longtime friend Bobby Rush. Even then it was painfully obvious Nightingale wasn't feeling well. His singing, usually strong and soulful, was plagued by a chronic cough and shortness of breath. After only a few songs, including such recent hits for Ecko as "I'll Drink Your Bathwater, Baby" and "You've Got a Booger Bear Under There," Nightingale cut his set short and excused himself from the stage. According to Rush, who organized the show and invited Nightingale to share the bill at New Club Paradise, the singer wasn't one to complain. Speaking from his home in Jackson, Miss., Rush said, "He was a trooper and just didn't say anything. He didn't want to bother anyone about it." Rush speculated Nightingale had been feeling bad for close to a year. "Deep down inside I'm thinking he knew something was very wrong." After Nightingale's set, Rush embraced him. "He couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds," Rush recalled. "I could feel with my hand the rattling inside his body. He was almost out of wind. I left with a bad feeling inside that night." Despite such tell-tale signs of illness no one realized the seriousness of Nightingale's condition. Because of his own silence on the matter, it is unclear exactly when the singer contracted pneumonia. Larry Chambers of Ecko Records said Nightingale might have had walking pneumonia for as much as six weeks. Last Wednesday Nightingale complained to his companion Celestine Polk of problems breathing. He was admitted to Methodist Hospital Germantown. Sunday his heart started failing. He died at approximately 5:30 p.m. "The sudden death of Ollie Nightingale has come as a terrible shock to me," said John Ward, founder of Ecko Records. "Ollie and I worked together for many years and had grown to be very close friends as well as colleagues. Ollie used to come to my studio and record demos, long before the idea of beginning my own record company ever occurred." Ward said he and Nightingale first began writing songs together. "On more nights than I can remember, these songwriting sessions would carry through to the next morning, many times turning into a night of story-swapping and trying to solve the world's problems together. It was during these times that I learned what a talented and special person Ollie was." Ward said it was natural for him to sign Nightingale as his first artist to his new label. Together, they recorded two records. "I will miss my friend Ollie very much and I am very honored to have had the opportunity to have known and worked with him all these years," Ward said. "I will cherish all of my memories of him forever."
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