Tag Archives: Mary Travers

Remembering John Travers

“06880” reader Alice Horrigan writes:

A vibrant town has creative teachers and students. In the 1970s Westport was one such town, and John Travers — who died in Hollywood last month at 57 — was one of those kids.

As a young boy he loved horror movies. For Ed Clark’s 6th grade “Projected Art” class, John created an animated chess game. From then on he used film for many assignments.

There was no film program at Staples High School when John was 15. So he and Kent Hickenlooper formed their own Compo Film Center.

They made movies and held festivals at Staples, Saugatuck Congregational Church and the Seabury Center, with themes like “A Day of Comedy” and science fiction billed as “The Ultimate in Screen Horror.”

He and lifelong friend Scott Deaver turned Staples into something of an incubator for classroom filmmaking. They filmed cowboys riding horses down Main Street for “Basura del Oeste” (“Garbage of the West”), for Scott’s Spanish class, exploding blood squibs that Scott fashioned from firecrackers for realistic gunshot wounds.

They also filmed a man running for his life down the Longshore entrance, demonstrated the laws of physics with “William Tell” and arrows in science class, and shot a sci-fi fantasy about robots at Compo Beach.

John Travers, filming at Compo Beach.

John Travers, filming at Compo Beach.

John was inspired by creative people, but also faced tragedy. His father Robert, a novelist, died of cancer when John was just 14. His half-sister Mary Travers was an accomplished musician (of the folk trio Peter, Paul and Mary), but too busy to be close to him.

He channeled his pain and joy into filmmaking. He steadily mastered storytelling and technical aspects including lighting, photography and editing.

After graduating from Staples in 1977 John attended the University of Bridgeport, and was a finalist in the American Cinema Editors’ editing contest. He worked for Westport director Sean Cunningham (of “Friday the 13th” fame), and for local documentarians Bill Buckley and Tracy Sugarman, editing a PBS film about civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer.

His award-winning short “Jenny,” filmed at Nyala and Wakeman Farms, was screened at the 1st Fairfield County Film Festival.

A film festival poster

A film festival poster

John moved to Hollywood, and worked for legendary filmmaker Roger Corman.

John’s perfectionism and quiet ways were a blessing to his work, but at times a liability in a town where schmoozing often trumps talent.

In Los Angeles John met and dated 1976 Staples grad Alice Horrigan. They co-wrote “Conversations in Public Places,” a finalist in the Motion Picture Academy’s Nichol Screenwriting Competition. It found a producer, and would be John’s 1st feature film as a writer and director.

But just as things were looking up, John felt the producers wrecked it.

He picked up the pieces, and built a reputation as an “editor’s editor.” He worked on dozens of films, and co-produced and directed the documentary “The Resurrection of Victor Jara.” It screens at the Havana Film Festival this month.

Had Westport not provided a welcoming setting for developing his interests, he might not have had the resilience to persevere in Hollywood. Had he known he’d make an early exit — sudden death from arterial sclerosis — he might have taken time to thank his home town.

Ninth grader John Travers and his half-sister, Mary Travers.

Ninth grader John Travers and his half-sister, Mary Travers.

John is survived by nieces Alicia Travers Bonney and Erika Travers Marshall, and 2nd cousins Mary Jane Williams and Jim Duke.

A memorial service will be held at Saugatuck Congregational Church this Saturday (December 10, 1 p.m.).

Sally’s Place To Close; A Westport Era To End

Sally White has been selling music on Main Street since 1956.

Sometime this summer, her song will finally end.

The beloved owner of Sally’s Place — the record/CD store where Keith Richards and Mary Travers shopped (and schmoozed) with Sally, and any other music lovers who wandered up the steps at 190 Main Street — is closing down.

She’s not sure when (probably later this summer). And she has no idea what she’ll do with the hundreds of posters, autographed photos and musical tchotchkes that line the way (maybe sell them?).

Sally White, standing underneath a photo of one of her all-time favorites: Frank Sinatra.

Sally White, standing underneath a photo of one of her all-time favorites: Frank Sinatra.

She does know, though, that she’ll leave a business she’s loved from her 1st day at Melody House, a few doors away, 57 years ago.

She also knows why she’s closing. The internet dragged too many customers away. The stagnant economy dragged business down further.

Sally’s Place has a niche in Westport that will never be replaced. I walked in this afternoon at the same time as another customer. She wanted a vinyl copy of “Rubber Soul.” Sally promised it would be in by Saturday.

When Melody House closed in the late ’50s, Stanley Klein offered her a job in his department store’s record section. Raising 2 sons alone, she said she could work only 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. She also told him how much she needed to be paid. He hired her on the spot.

She worked there for more than 20 years. Her gentle nature, loving presence and encyclopedic knowledge of music influenced generations of Westporters — myself included.

Sally's Place is at 190 Main Street -- on the right, just past Avery Place.

Sally’s Place is at 190 Main Street — on the right, just past Avery Place.

When Klein’s record department closed in 1985, she decided to open her own store. Her brother-in-law wrote a business plan. She showed it to the president of Westport Bank & Trust.

He gave it right back. “We don’t need it,” he said. He trusted her word.

She offered her house as collateral. He refused. He was happy to back Sally’s Place without it.

It’s been an “amazing” 27 years, Sally says. “The bank, the record companies, my landlord — everyone has been fantastic.”

Especially her customers. “They make me feel special,” says Sally. “But I’m just doing what I love.”

Another customer this afternoon asked Sally for a turntable needle. She handed him a phone number. “This is the Needle Doctor,” she said. “He has everything.”

Sally’s musical roots run deep. She’s seen Frank Sinatra on stage. Also Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Tommy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw.

Brubeck and Gerry Mulligan were close friends. So are many customers who never played a note. All are bound by a love of music — and the treasure that is Sally.

Sally doing what she loves most: interacting with one customer. Another one browses in back.

Sally doing what she loves: interacting with a customer. Another browses in back.

“I’ve been working since I was 14,” Sally says. “I’ve been a part of this town for a long time. This is my heart and soul. I wouldn’t trade places with anyone.”

She’s survived as long as she has on special orders. Bluegrass compilations, rap, the “Roar of the Greasepaint” soundtrack — all are hand-written, in old-school logbooks. People find her from around the country.

She does not charge for mailing. “It’s my way of saying thanks,” she says.

As if on cue, a customer requested “old Polish-American polka music” for a wedding. She mentioned a composer. “S-t-u-r-r,” Sally spelled. “Right!” the woman said.

There is plenty of new vinyl -- and CDs, and random stuff, and musical knowledge -- at Sally's Place.

There is plenty of new vinyl — and CDs, random stuff, and musical knowledge — at Sally’s Place.

She does not stock Lady Gaga. “You can get that at Walmart for 10 bucks,” she says.

You can get it online, too — along with virtually everything Sally sells. Which is why she has written this message (by hand):

After 27 years of business I have decided to retire. The economy and internet sales have made it impossible for me to continue.

I thank you for your support, and hope you wish me well in retirement. I’ll miss you.

“Quick and easy,” she says. “I don’t need the schmaltz.”

But we need to say “thank you” to Sally White. Please hit “Comments” to share  your memories, or offer praise.

And then — whether you’re a longtime admirer, a former customer who faded away, or someone who always meant to stop by but never did — go see Sally.

She’ll be glad to see you.

And her broad, loving smile will make your day.

(Click here to read a previous post about Sally’s Westport Arts Center award.)

Back to the Basics: A Portrait of Sally White from Claire Bangser.

 

Remembering Mary Travers

Several years ago I was on a flight from Cleveland to New York.  It was late Sunday night; everyone was tired and grumpy.

I nodded at my seatmate; in typical flying fashion, neither of us said a word.  I looked again.  It was Mary Travers.

Mary  Travers

Mary Travers

The Mary I remembered was the blonde, beautiful singer who helped make Peter, Paul and Mary national icons — and powerful forces for social change.  But a few days earlier I’d seen a PBS special.  She’d gained plenty of weight since their heyday.  This was the new Mary.

Growing up and living in Westport, I learned to give celebrities their space.  Paul Newman, Martha Stewart, Don Imus, Jason Robards, Eartha Kitt — I’d never said a word when I saw them in restaurants or on Main Street.  Besides, what would I say?  I had no connection with them.

But Mary Travers!  Her music — “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” “All My Trials,” “Day is Done” and so many others — had gotten me through adolescence.  We sang her songs at summer camp.  I still listened to them whenever I needed to relax, be inspired, or feel better (despite the urgency of their messages) about the world.

I could have told Mary Travers that I worked with her stepmother at the Westport News.  I could have said I knew Frank Weiner — who, long before he became first an advertising executive and then a renowned English teacher at Staples High School, had been her babysitter back in the day.

But I said nothing.  Besides, she was already asleep.

As the plane landed at LaGuardia, she woke up.  Finally I gathered my courage. 

“Thank you,” I said.  “Thanks for all the pleasure your music has brought me, for so many years.”

She looked at me for the 1st time.  She was not the least bit surprised.  She had heard similar words — I suddenly realized — countless times for 4 decades.

But she smiled that broad Mary Travers smile.  Though she was far heavier than in her Dylan days, her light, bright smile lit up the plane.

“You’re welcome,” she said.  “I’ve enjoyed it too.”