Kamilah Kashanie (KK): Music is one of those things that brings people together. Good music crosses language barriers, countries, and cultures. And like StoryCorps, can even start a conversation.
It’s the StoryCorps Podcast from NPR. I’m Kamilah Kashanie.
On this episode, the little known stories behind some well known music.
First, we’ll hear from Jada Salter and her grandfather William Salter. And if that name sounds familiar to you, it’s because he helped write one of the most iconic American love songs.
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We’ll get more into the song later. Even though William is a lyricist, bass player, and music producer, to his granddaughter Jada, he’s always just been ‘grandpa’.
Jada Salter (JS): As a kid, when I would come to your house, I just remember stuff on the walls like, there’d be dashiki, African mask and African print wallpaper. The smell of food. Grandma’s cooking. So, you know, ackee and saltfish stuff like that. And um, when I would walk into your room, it’s like a whole ‘nother world. For a kid, it’s kind of like Narnia. You know, when you walk into the closet. That’s how it was with you —
William Salter (WS): [Laughs]
JS: — with the music. And everywhere you look, there’d be guitars. There’d be a keyboard. There’d be notes on the wall, and there’d literally be notes floating in the air because you’d be humming. Even when we’re eating, you hum in between the bites. And that is a huge part of what I think of when I think of Grandpa — your sound. I’d always go sit on the couch and then sometimes, you would take the guitar, sit down next to me and start playing a little tune.
WS: [Laughs] I used to babysit you a lot. I had the feeling that I was in a position to teach you a little something, something. And you were getting something from it. I loved it. Even though your grandmother would say ‘be quiet. You’re making too much noise.’ It was cool with me.
JS: [laughs]
WS: Being able to share those private and personal moments. It was very meaningful. You know, I didn’t come from a formidable family of educated people. My mother was a day worker and um, there was nobody to look after me. She had no time to talk to me and in fact, we had little or no conversation. My mother used to tell me, “children were to be seen and not heard.” So, I was always by myself and lonely.
JS: Oh.
WS: But I had the radio. That’s when I got involved with the music. If it was on the radio, I could hear it. I could whistle it. I could sing it. I could do, do do do do do do do do, dance to it. Do the boogie or whatever, you know.
JS: Whenever you mention the radio, you light up.
WS: Music was already in me, but the radio and I embraced each other.
JS: Grandpa, could you explain how you found your instrument?
WS: Yeah, very simple. Junior high school. When I got to the music class all the instruments were taken. All that was left were three stringed basses standing against the wall. It was either that or I didn’t do anything. So I took what you get. But I had no complaints. Because prior to getting involved with music, I was just another kid on the block, without knowing who I was. But when music and I became one, I found myself. I would walk down the street with the bass on my back and people would just stand back. I walked like I was somebody special. And with that bass, I’ve been able to get as far as I’ve gotten.
KK: William wrote Just The Two of Us with Ralph Macdonald and Bill Withers in the 80s….and the song became wildly popular and was nominated for a Grammy Award for Record of the Year.
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KK: If you grew up with a family like mine, you definitely heard this song playing at every cookout, birthday, and holiday. It’s truly not a party unless this song is on the playlist.
It’s also been sampled and remixed a bunch of times by different artists. You might be familiar with the Will Smith version of the song.
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KK: That’s the version Jada knew, but she had no idea her grandpa was behind the original, until one day when she was visiting.
JS: I remember when I was about eight you were playing the song, and you said that was your song that you wrote. And so, that’s when I was like, ‘my grandpa was, like, the coolest person ever.’ [Laughs] I went back to summer camp and I was showing everybody on my Walkman, ‘Here. Listen, listen, this is my grandfather’s song’. And they’re like, ‘Oh, he wrote this song’. I was like, ‘Yeah, he wrote this song’. [Laughs]
WS: When you were younger, what did you imagine the song was about?
JS: When I heard the lyrics I just imagined in my head Grandpa and I.
WS: [Laughs]
JS: I would always remember the first lyric ‘I see the crystal raindrops fall’,
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JS: Instead of crystal raindrops, I imagine, like, a palace or a castle or something. And I feel like that castle was grandma and grandpa’s house. For me, I’m just like, ‘That’s my song, That’s my grandpa’. But then once I found out that other people connected so deeply with the song, with their own personal lives, I was just like, ‘OK, they can have the song too’, you know.
WS: How did the meaning of that song change as you got older?
JS: When life gets hard, I would just always go back to the lyrics ’we can make if we try’.
WS: There you go.
JS: So, I am just like as long as I’m trying, there’s a purpose to life. There’s a purpose to everything. And why would you waste this gift, this precious gift.
WS: You got it.
JS: So, you really inspired me to just keep going and to not give up. You know, you’re very precious to me. And sometimes I get scared that once it’s your time, I’m not gonna have you. I was blessed enough to have you for these years. And hopefully, I pray, I’ll have you for a whole lot more. But, I realize that song is an example of how you’re still gonna be there. You’re always gonna be there.
WS: Thank you for telling my story. I’m grateful.
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KK: That was William Salter and his granddaughter Jada Salter.
After the break, we’ll hear from two sisters who got to know their dad better through his music. Stay with us.
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KK: Welcome back.
Our next story comes from sisters Carmencristina Moreno and Rosemary Selzer, who also grew up in a musical family.
Their parents were known as Los Moreno or Duo Los Moreno. They were a Mexican folk music duo in Los Angeles. Their dad, Luis, wrote the songs and performed them with their mom, Carmen throughout the 1930s, 40s and 50s. And they were stars.
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KK: In 2010, Carmencristina and Rosemary, came to StoryCorps to remember their parents and what it was like to grow up surrounded by music.
Here’s Carmencristina, talking about how their dad first fell in love with music as a young boy in Mexico.
Carmencristina Moreno (CM): I remember daddy would tell me that he would ask his mom ”¿De dónde vienen las canciones mamá?”; “Where do the songs come from?” And she would say, ”las sirenas las componen.” “The mermaids compose them in the sea.”
But my abuela didn’t want my father to be a musician because she wanted him to be a baker, to have a stable job. And at that time, the mariachis, they were looked down upon.
Rosemary Selzer (RS): Wow. I remember when he was young in Mexico, the guy gave him the little guitar and said, ‘if you can play this, then you can have it.’ And so he learned, I think overnight, and took it back and played a song for him and the man let him have the guitar.
CM: When he went home really proud with his little guitar that the traveling vendor had given him, la abuela Valentina broke the guitar on his back. She hit him with the guitar! My dad was only six years old.
KK: I know what you might be thinking, we thought about it too. That’s basically the story of Coco, Pixar’s animated film from a few years ago: a Mexican boy who loves music, but his family wants him to learn a trade instead. I mean, what can we say? The Moreno sisters recorded their StoryCorps conversation seven years before the movie even came out. Sometimes reality beats fiction.
But of course, we wanted to know more, so earlier this year we reached out to the Moreno sisters and asked them to do another recording. Even though a decade passed since their first conversation, they picked up right where they left off ten years earlier.
CM: She said, “You’re not going to be no blankety blank mariachi. I’ve already set an appointment for you with my uncle who has a bakery. You’re going to be an apprentice there.” Can you just imagine how heartbroken he must have been?
RS: When did he start playing music for a living?
CM: It was after abuela Valentina passed away.
RS: As far as dad’s songs, were they all songs about struggle?
CM: He composed from the heart and he wrote what he had lived. He would say, “En las Cantinas quedó mi primavera”
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CS: In the taverns I ended my youth.
RS: I left my youth.
CM: And also, he wrote a song that is just so heart wrenching and he talks about not having a mother or father and being a wanderer. Can you imagine it?
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KK: Luis was inspired by what life threw at him. His parents died when he was young, and he became an orphan. When he was older, he was sent to fight in the Mexican Revolution, and after being shot in battle, he immigrated to the United States in 1919, and eventually settled down in California.
That’s where he met his wife and creative partner, Carmen Moreno. Rosemary and Carmencristina, both remember how dedicated their parents were to music, and also to their family.
RS: There was always music in the house. Dad would sit in the back seat of the white station wagon that we used to call La Paloma with a pad and a pencil. He would say, “Well, this is the only place I can get some peace and quiet to write.”
CM: No blank cardboard was safe.
RS: That’s what he wrote on! He would save those little insert cards from the stocking packages, remember?
CM: [Laughs] Yes!
RS: I remember when I was 13, 14, they were still working on the weekends, playing in cantinas and they would stuff the dollar bills in the guitars. They would come home and I would help them pull the money out of the guitars. I can still remember the sound the dollar bills made as they would go through the strings.
CM: I remember during the 40s, some of the promoters invited mom and dad to go on tour to South America. But that would have meant leaving us with strangers, and dad said, ‘No. What about the children?’
RS: Yeah. I think because he suffered so much when he was young and an orphan that he wanted to make sure his children didn’t suffer as he did. He was a very loving and caring dad, like a big gentle bear.
CM: On the low ebb of their career, our dad had to get a job as a farm irrigator. Daddy would come home with burst blisters. And I think how hard it must have been for him because he had to do what it took to feed his family. I admired my father tremendously.
RS: He composed approximately 300 songs in his lifetime.
CM: Yeah, but most of his songs aren’t copy written.
RS: He gave away the songs or sold them for 50 dollars a song. So I could imagine that as he got older, and he hears his music on the radio and all of these people getting famous; that must have been gut wrenching for him.
CM: I just wish I could get at least my father’s name and credit on those songs.
RS: It’s just sad that he didn’t get the recognition that he should have gotten. But he still made it in a way, even though he couldn’t read or write very well.
CM: Yeah, Dad only had half a day of school, but he was a born musician. How do you feel when you hear dad’s songs being played on the radio?
RS: Well, I try not to listen to his music, because it makes me so emotional. I don’t care where I am, the music brings back memories of when I was younger.
CM: Yeah, some songs are just, uh, too personal. How do you think that Dad would want to be remembered?
RS: Aside from being a good family man, I mean, that goes without saying, but he wanted people to know that he composed music. Beautiful music. That’s how I think he’d want to be remembered.
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KK: That was Rosemary Selzer with her sister, Carmencristina Moreno.
A lot of the songs written by Luis a century ago are still being performed by musicians today, with no credits to Luis. And this song we’re hearing, “Un día con otro,” is an original recording from 1941 by Los Moreno. It’s about Luis sharing his hopes that one day, he’ll catch a lucky break.
That’s all for this episode of the StoryCorps Podcast. It was produced by me and Jo Corona and edited by Laila Oweda. Our Executive Editor is Jasmyn Morris. Our technical director is Jarrett Floyd, who also composed our theme song. Our fact-checker is Natsumi Ajisaka. Special thanks to Abe Selby, Lilly Sullivan, and Jud Esty-Kendall.
To see what music we used in the episode… including more from Los Moreno, go to StoryCorps – dot – org… where you can also check out original artwork created for this season by Lyne Lucien.
For the StoryCorps podcast, I’m Kamilah Kashanie. Catch you next week.
