Tag Archives: “This Bitter Earth

Sally White, Superstar

With all the merchant-bashing that goes on in town (and here), it’s nice to hear a different perspective. 

“06880” reader Terri Gatti Schure sent this “open letter” to Sally White — the beloved (and longtime) owner of Sally’s Place.  It’s one of the last independent “record” stores in America — and Sally puts the “mom” in mom-and-pop shops.

Terri writes:

Dear Sally,

You were the topic of conversation at our recent Staples High School 40th reunion earlier this month. Several of us reminisced about you, and the memories were so fond and profoundly deep. We all agreed that your love of music came from the heart.  You had such passion — not just for the music itself, but for what the music created for us emotionally.

The incomparable Sally White

In 1967, the highlight of my Saturdays was going to Klein’s and listening to whatever you had on the “record player.”  You’d guide me through the latest and best artists, albums, top 10.  I could walk in and give you 2 or 3 words in the lyrics, and you knew exactly what song it was.

So it seemed fitting that this past Saturday, while in town to celebrate my Staples reunion, I would stop by with a dear classmate to see you.  Plus, I had these 2 songs I hadn’t been able to find…

Even though I hadn’t seen you in 40 years, you were the same old Sally.

And those 2 songs? One was about not paying the rent – an old R&B tune.  You wrote some notes in your spiral notebook — just like you did 40 years ago — and promised to do some research.  If anyone can find the song, it will be you.

The other song was more of a memory.  I told you that I recalled my mother sitting at the kitchen table in the dark,  in the late ’50s, smoking a cigarette, listening to this haunting song on the radio.  I could only recall that it had something to do with the earth being bitter.

You ran around the counter, grabbed a research book and then a CD, and said, “here it is!”

You took the CD out of the cellophane — not even caring that I might not buy it — and put it in your player.  “’This Bitter Earth’ by Dinah Washington,” you said.

As we listened to the song I was overcome with emotion, lost in the memory of my mother that night.  I looked at you through teary eyes, and of course yours were teary too.  That is what was always so special about you.  We could share a small piece of our heart with you, and you loved us all, because the music made it possible.

It was a pleasure and an honor seeing you again.  I want to thank you for sharing your music with me this past Saturday, as well as all those many, many Saturdays over 40 years ago.


Teri Gatti Schure