Reflections. Gary Italiaander

but an amazing friendship developed as well.

      We had shared interests; we both loved music with the ability to create it. It’s just that his ability to do so was in a different league to mine! I would not be so presumptuous as to compare my musical talent to Larry’s in any way but that unquestionably had a bearing on how our friendship developed and my need to create this project.

      We also shared a love of tennis. When I first met Larry he was still playing occasionally and when I asked him if he won, his reply was; “I never win!” Somehow, knowing the man, I doubt this was the case and I feel sure that, at least in his younger days, he was rather good.

      We did discuss creating a book together but at that time Larry wasn’t able to make a commitment as he was already in his early eighties - still travelling, performing and busy with the writing that he was doing for a variety of magazines. He did however provide a number of opportunities for me to create a photographic record. The reason for making such a record was unclear at the time, but I felt it was important to do it all the same. The significance became apparent once he’d departed the stage, with the concept for this book.

      While Larry was in hospital in London, seriously ill, he received an invitation to perform in a concert at the Royal Albert Hall for Prince Phillip’s 80^th birthday. He was told by his doctors that he was far too unwell to attend (to which he agreed); nevertheless, he slipped out of the hospital and made his way to the venue. Only when he appeared on television were the medical staff aware that he had done so. No matter what his state of health, it was always Larry’s view that ‘the show must go on!’

      At the time of his funeral I was abroad, but I was invited by his family to attend the memorial concert that took place at The Arts Theatre in London some time later. During that concert, when his family, friends and associates spoke of him, it became clear to me that I should gather together thoughts and comments from those who knew him personally and so I began collecting memories from those closest to him. However, for a variety of reasons, I became aware that it was the wrong time to complete this project.

      Two of the most important people in Larry’s life were his brother Jerry and Larry’s partner for the last eighteen years of his life, Gloria Leighton. Jerry was delighted to be able to put something on record. Gloria was more reticent as she was unsure whether she had the ability to write but she eventually agreed (with lots of encouragement from me). This was only on the basis that my wife, Tamar, would do all the typing for her and I am extremely grateful that Tamar agreed to do so. Gloria had a lot to contribute, as you will, and so I am delighted that we were able to capture her own very special thoughts. It is fortunate that I started the process when I did as sadly both Jerry and Gloria are no longer with us.

      Once I realised the 100^th anniversary of Larry’s birth would be in 2014, I decided that it was time to complete the project. Nearly everyone I have been able to contact has agreed to participate. I am delighted that I have been able to gather so many contributors who have added their own ‘reflections’.

      This book provides a brief history of Larry’s life, interspersed with my own commentary, as well as tributes from his family, friends and associates. What clearly emerges is that Larry was the greatest of entertainers, perfectly at home performing on the mouthorgan (as he preferred to call it rather than the more usual harmonica) or as a raconteur, speaking and joking with his audiences. His approach to performing remained the same, regardless of what had happened or how he felt.

      So, I now feel that I have achieved what I set out to do, creating this tribute. Larry; although in many ways he appeared down to earth and quite ordinary, he left his mark on our world in the most extraordinary way. I am honoured that he allowed me to share some memorable times with him that I can now share with you, along with those reflections of his family, friends and colleagues.

       The Dream

      It was early morning, 6^th August 2001 when I awoke from a dream.

      That may not seem particularly unusual, except in my case I am rarely aware of dreaming (even when they have taken place) and even less likely to remember them.

      The dream, though quite short, was as follows:

      I was visiting Larry Adler at his flat. He greeted me at his doorway. Yet it didn’t look as I knew it to look; there was a stairwell behind me spiralling for many floors. Larry’s building had a lift. Although I found this strange, I accepted the change and extended my hand towards him. The next thing I knew, I was falling backwards down the stairwell. Larry, who stayed in view throughout my fall, appeared to get smaller and smaller until he was just a speck in the distance. Then I woke up.

      I didn’t think too much of it, and so started my day. At the time, I was in France with my wife Tamar, and my children Elise and Simon. We were staying with friends at their home in the Loire Valley.

      Later that day, while having lunch in their delightful French chateau, I received a call from another friend, Chris, back home (in London) to let me know that it had just been announced on the radio that Larry Adler had died.

      Chris was aware of our friendship and didn’t know if I would hear the news where we were. I was extremely upset and also shocked by this. I had not been aware that Larry had been so ill, as I had not seen him for a while.

      I then remembered the dream of that morning and was left wondering whether Larry had literally ‘dropped in’ to say ‘goodbye’?

So how did I get to meet Larry Adler?

      When I was about six years old, a cousin gave me a harmonica that nobody used. I picked it up and could play it immediately. My whole existence was taken up with this little instrument that I could take everywhere with me. At an early point I became aware of the name Larry Adler – if for no other reason that at least one of the harmonicas I had acquired was called the Larry Adler Professional.

      That in itself is an unusual story and one that Larry was interested to hear about, along with the following:

      I was born in London and at around the age of three I contracted Tubercular Meningitis. To survive such an illness in the late 1950’s was in itself something of a miracle but to do so kept me hospitalised for a year. Fortunately I have no recollection of this at all. But having been so ill, and for such a long time, a check-up was essential twice a year in the form of an X-ray. On one of these visits, we had to pass a very large music shop called Squires. They sold just about every instrument going and on this particular day, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of a mouthorgan in the front of their window. It was simply stunning; I had to have it!

      When I got home that night I was so excited that I could not wait to tell my father about it. I must have been about nine years of age at the time. My father listened with great interest and then asked me what I would be prepared to do to enable me to get one. He asked whether I would kneel on the ground and kiss the floor. That seemed an odd request although at the time, I didn’t question it. I answered that of course I would if it would get me the instrument. He then asked me to demonstrate that I would in fact do so. I did.

      When I stood up, there on a plate (on the table) was the mouthorgan that I had seen that very morning. Imagine my astonishment! By a strange coincidence my father had also seen the instrument in a different music shop in Central London where he worked – Chappell of Bond Street. He had bought it there and then. While I was telling him about the harmonica, unbeknown to me, he actually had it in his pocket and so was able to perform this ‘miracle’! I was speechless, probably for some time, and of course I was over the moon!

      The Larry Adler Professional 16 Chromatic Harmonica - still in my possession over 50 years later.

      © Italiaander

      Sometime later the head of my school, who happened to also be a musician, spotted my musical talent and called my parents in to talk. He wanted to know if they were aware that I had musical ability and if so, had they considered what they might do to help