Patrick Rossi:  

Originally posted sometime in the early 2000's. Undergoing modification mid-July 2026 Life From 1972 until 1987 I worked as a musician, playing bass with a number of bands, mostly top-40, R&B, or jazz. I started out playing with my parents in a band called "All in the Family" (1972-1976). Frank Wood played drums (1972-74). Frank was principally a woodwinds player but played keyboards and drums as well. The guy was/is a "mega-talent." How a person could be so gifted and so modest and humble, I'll never know. (I'm not saying this facetiously, Frank really was/is an incredibly talented and likeable guy.) Back to "All in the Family." Our repertoire included music from the 1920's to the mid 1970's (that was "contemporary" at the time). For years, we had a "summer gig" at an old hotel, called the Ocean House, in Watch Hill, RI. I didn't fully appreciate it at the time, but it was a unique and somewhat enchanting experience. We'd open the evening with an extended set of "Latin Music" (Wave, Summer Samba, Girl From Ipanema, etc.). Patrons who came from families that had been summering at the Ocean House for generations, would come from the dining room upstairs and trickle down to the lounge where we were playing. A lot of these folks would be dressed in formal attire. After taking a seat at their table, they'd get up and dance to the "Latin standards" and then to music from the 20's and 30's. There was an Italian couple, Rose and Bill, from Eastern Connecticut, that knew all of the dances - especially the Latin dances, and they were a treat to watch. Between 10-10:30pm, the locals would start to come in - guys dressed in dress slacks and sport shirts, women dressed in skirts and blouses. Our song selection would change to Big Band Era music, with a few Pop tunes thrown in. During the breaks, between sets, as well as before the first set, I'd venture outside of the lounge onto the large porch that overlooked the ocean. (The Ocean House was situated on the top of a hill and from the porch, you could look down upon the lawn that stretched to a strip of beach grass and rosewood bushes that formed the boundary between the lawn and the beach.) From the porch, you could look toward the East and view the moon rising over the ocean - an experience that a dearly departed friend of mine would describe as "exquisite!" Looking South from the porch, you could see Fisher's Island and at times Montauk Point (of Long Island). At the doorway, between the porch and the lounge, you could find Clarence Swan. Clarence was the "security" for the Lounge. A policeman in the twilight of his career, Clarence could still handle himself with the toughest of troublemakers, but you'd never know it just from socializing with him. He had a tough exterior, but was one of the nicest, kindest, and loving human beings I've ever known. Oddly enough, he never seemed to be happy unless he had something to complain about. Usually, it would be about some call he'd received (from the Westerly Police Department) the night before, right after the lounge had closed for the evening. He'd relate the event in detail, expressing his disgust (for lack of a better word). One Saturday evening he came in, thoroughly ticked off from a call that he had to respond to the night before. It turns out that some young kid was driving a pickup truck with his girlfriend in the cab and another couple behind the cab in the "bed" of the truck. The couple in the "bed" were "making whoopie" and were completely naked. The driver got into an accident and the truck overturned, leaving the two stark-naked people slightly injured and desperately searching for their clothes! (They didn't find them before the police arrived.) When I heard the story, I couldn't stop laughing! For days, I'd think of that story and begin to laugh uncontrollably all over again. Today, some 50 years later, I still get more than a chuckle when I think about that story. OK, back to the Ocean Ho...Expand for more