Tito Puente, El Rey del Mambo by Carolee Ross

Recently I received a pleasant surprise. I saw that the United States Post Office had issued a commemorative set of stamps titled "Latin Music Legends," honoring Tito Puente, Carmen Miranda, Selena, Carlos Gardel and Celia Cruz. I went home and searched for the memorial I had written about my friend, Tito Puente, the year that he passed, June of 2000. This is from the archives of The Advocate/Greenwich Time, of the Times-Mirror newspapers and was originally printed on June 11, 2000. Following is the original article:

Tito Puente playing his beloved timbales

Tito Puente, el Rey del Mambo, The King of Latin Music, the consummate showman, the man who never forgot his Spanish Harlem beginnings is gone.

He was The Man, way before Carlos Santana, Ricky Martin and Marc Anthony appeared on the music scene. He played for presidents and with jazz greats such as Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, George Shearing, Cubana songstress Celia Cruz and pop singers such as Tony Bennett.

Tito Puente, playing at the Palladium Ballroom in the 1950's

It's hard to believe that it is 40 years since I first saw him play at the Palladium Ballroom in New York City. Mambo was the rage of the time, with crowds flocking from everywhere to hear the music and see dance master "Killer Joe" Piro teach the latest steps. Jazz stars from Birdland, the club just down the street from the Palladium, came by to groove and dance. Greats such as Charlie Parker, Max Roach and Gillespie stayed to watch Tito incorporate jazz harmonics into his music, producing the Latin jazz or "salsa" for which he was famed. The 1992 movie, "The Mambo Kings, paid tribute to the era, when people danced through the night as Puente clowned and beat his timbales.

For anyone who ever saw Puente perform, it seems inconceivable that this vibrant whirlwind of a man with the dazzling smile, the wild sock of curly white hair, the magic, rapidly flying hands and the impish grin could be gone. It is quite an achievement in an age of rapidly changing musical trends that his genius has endured for more than six decades. For those who mourn his passing, his music will never die.

Tito Puente in "The Mambo Kings"

The man nicknamed "Tito" was honored with the keys to the cities of Los Angeles, Miami, Boston and Hartford, received New York's Bronze Medallion and won an Eubie Award for lifetime achievement in the recording industry. He served as Grand Marshall of New York City's Puerto Rican Parade and in 1990, he received a star on Hollywood's Walk of Fame. A five-time Grammy winner, he received an honorary degree from Columba University. Puente penned "Oye Como Va"  in 1963, which 12 years later would be a hit for Santana. During his lifetime, Puente recorded more than 100 albums.

In 1993, I had the privilege of interviewing Tito before his concert at the Stamford Palace and in September 1999, I watched him memerize an audience at Norwalk's Oyster Festival, as he gave encore after encore to a cheering crowd. When Puente asked how many Latinos were in the audience, there was a universal handraising. That night, everyone was Latino.

How It All Began

When Ercilia Ortiz Puente enrolled her seven year old son, Anthony "Ernestito" in the nearby branch of the New York School of Music at 125th Street and Lenox Avenue, she never dreamed the boy would one day be hailed worldwide as "El Rey," The King of Latin Music.

Born shortly after his parents arrived in Spanish Harlem from Guanadillas, Puerto Rico, Tito grew up in the jumping, jiving era of swing music, listening to Duke Ellington, Artie Shaw and Benny Goodman. Surrounded by the richly diverse Caribbean street rhythyms played by the street bands of "El Barrio," he was also influeced by the new music coming out of Cuba.

When Ercilia Puente observed her first-born's passionate obsession with Gene Krupa, she managed to quietly slip a quarter from her sleeping husband's pants pockets for the boy's weekly music lessons. Tito would later win a drum contest, playing Krupa's solo, "Sing, Sing, Sing," his keen ear remembering the riffs. Young Tito rewarded his mother by giving her a personal nightly concert, playing classical, pop and Latin songs. During our interview, Puente reminisced about his childhood and his mother's encouragement. "One of my earliest memories is played the Puerto Rican dana "Mis Amores (My Loves) for my mother," he said. "She loved when I would play that."

Although his mother had signed him up for drum lessons, it was on the streets that he learned to play mracas, cowbells, claves, shakers and bongos. "Percussion is the heart of it all," he said. "Your heart pumps like the claves. It's what's inside you, keeping you alive. It's the sound which has roots in Afro-Cuban musi and the heart and soul of my music."

Puente was a seasoned performer before he waws 12, playng with society bands as well as local Latin bands. His muical versatility landed him his first professional engagement at age 13, when he sat in as substitute in the Noro Morales orchester. The place was the famed Stork Club, then the home of New York cafe society.

The Rest is Musical History

In his early teens, Puente got permission from his father, Ernesto Sr., a factory foreman, to play a 12-week engagement with a sextet in Miami. After returning to New York, Puente became a regular for the Machito Orchestra where he made musical history as the first performer to play timbales standing up.

Tito Puentes' Timbales, now on display at the Smithsonian Museum

"In the old days, in jazz orchestras, the prcussionists were in the back. In the front line were the saxophones, the trumpets, the trombones," Puente recalled. "Part of my job was to give the cues to he trumpet players. They aways had to turn back to look for the cue. Then, Jimmy Fiaua, ho was the band's sax player and my right-hand man for over 40 years, said, 'Tito, why don't you stand up in front -- it will be easier to give the cues" And from then on, it was the rhythym section up front, the congas, the bongos, the cowbells, the claves and the timbales. And a little showmanship on top of it doesn't exactly hurt," he added. "I try to send out good vibration to the public -- they feel it and it makes them enjoy the music more. I don't have a beautiful woman in front of the orchestra and I'm not Ricky Martin, waving my hips and showing my belly button. I need the people to see I'm having a good time."

In 1949, after he graduated from The Juilliard School of Music, taking advantage of the G.I. Bill (he served a stint in the Navy) Puente formed his ow group, "The Picadilly Boys, and started playng regularly at the Palladium Ballroom, a New York dance club on 52nd Street.

"The place was a melting pot," remembered Puente. "Jews, Italian, Irish, African Americans, Puerto Ricans, Cubans, you name it. Everyone was equal. They were there to dig the music and dance."

In honor of his early nurturing, Puente established the Tito Puente Scholarship fnd in 1981, giving grants to musically gifted youngters in the Latin community. To date more than 200 grants have been awarded. During our talk, he urged young musicians to "stay cool," and finish their educations, advising that above all, they should stay away from drugs.

"You need to keep yourself centered so that you can use your creativity to the fullest," he said. "Keep vibrant, keep experimenting. We need new arrangers, composers, instrumentalists. Study your craft so when you are called upon to work, you are prepared to be your best."

Asked what he wanted as his obituary, Puente laughed and said, "Maybe just put a pair of timbales on my grave."