The Personal Biography of Alfred (Bubba) Ramey

I was born in Lexington, Kentucky and took up music at the age of 7.  Like most kids those days,I started out on the Flutophone, and then to an old metal clarinet that my dad managed to get for me.  Though we were not rich, my dad worked as a civilian at the Lexington Army Depot and later managed to get me one of the newer five piece, black, wooden clarinets like all the other kids were playing.  I played that instrument until the end of my seventh grade year.  It was about that time when I heard a girl in the band playing a saxophone.  The sound fascinated me.  She let me play her sax and I immediately got the bug.
By the time I started my eight-grade year my Dad, again, had managed to buy me another instrument.  It was an old CONN Alto Sax with the adjustable neck tuning.  That horn was like a candy bar to me.  It was like a different world full of possibilities and abilities.  In fact, my connection to the saxophone goes much deeper than just a musical instrument that I loved to play.  The saxophone was my saving grace, if you will, as those were very difficult times for me.

Not realizing that I had physical disabilities at the time, I could not understand why I was always picked on at school.  I was a nice kind who like any other kid, liked to have fun and play, but as in all schools, there are the bad seed elements who see someone nice and make it their daily routine to bully and harass, and since I was a nice kid, I was their target.  At this time I was attending Booker T. Washington, an all black, excuse me "colored" was politically correct then, elementary school on the west side of Lexington.  And where the bullies are you find the "wanna be" bullies who themselves' bully to keep from being bullied.  And then you find the lucky ones who scurry and are very thankful that they are not the present object of attention and to keep from being the object of attention, they stay away from you at all times.

I could not understand why I was their favorite out of crowd of all the other kids until one day they developed a name for me, "Butt upon your back".  I then became aware that I did not stand like the the other kids.  My shape was not as straight.  I found out about twenty years later that I have two serious bends in my spine, a Thoracic Kyphosis and Lordosis.  This also causes a tightening in the hamstrings which twist the knees in.  The Lordosis bends the waist and above forward causing a bow shape and the Kyphosis bends forward also causing a bow.  The combination of these two bows shifts the balance of the body forward making your perception of where your feet are difficult and as a kid I was too clumsy to play sports.  Usually the abuse was just limited to abusive words and a lot of boistrous animation, but on occasion one or two would shove you around hoping to impress a bigger bully.

This harassment continued into my junior high years at Lexington Junior which by the way only complicated matters for me.  Up until this time, Dunbar High was the only black high school in Lexington and the Annex was their junior high.  This was during the period of forced intergration into the white schools. Our parents enrolled us into the program for a chance at a better education and even though it was tough walking the fine line between black and white my sisters and I are better off today fo it.  However, this made my acceptance with the bad seeds in the black community even worse.

For most kids today, they know the difference between more than just mere black and white at a very early age.  I, however did not see my first white person until I was six years old.  That was the day mom took us to the public library and we caught the bus.  Usually she would walk rather than ride the bus, but since it was a long way and we were with her, she took the bus.  I remember it well because that was also the day that I learned how different the races were when I sat down behind the driver to watch the road through the big windshield and she immediately hurried us to the back of the bus.  I learned then that the people in front were white and that the front of the bus was for "white's only", and our place was in the back.  Being the nice kid, I accepted things as they were and the people the same which is where my life started to fall apart with the other black kids.

During that 1st year at Lexington Junior there were gang fights everyday at lunch and at breaks but I did not go out to fight as I saw no to reason nor had a desire to.  That is when I picked up the name, "Uncle Tom", as well as "Butt upon your back".  So I turned inward and basically became a loner.  The blacks did not like to hang with me from a long ways back and the whites did not like me because I was invading their territory and my presence was causing problems for their school.  Music was the only solace I had, and my saxophone was my only true friend.  My older sisters were busy discovering being girls and young women, which means they had no time for me.  So when I got home I went to the basement and practiced and played for hours.  While all the other kids in the neighborhood played games out in the street and were hanging out, I was in the basement practicing.
I borrowed my big sisters record player and learned the solo on a 45 record by King Curtis entitled, "Soul Serenade".  I played that record over and over until it was hard to listen to.  I wore the record out, but I could play the solo exactly as the record.  Then I went on to learn the solo on "Movin' On", also by King Curtis.  I did not realize it then, but I was training my ear.  After that I started listening to the radio and trying to play with everything that came across the speaker.  By the oppression of my peers I had grown in another area; "Improvisation".  The years of constant harassment had left some deep scars, but I had something that was growing and my expression was through my saxophone.  Looking back, I see God's hand in my life.  He did not take me out of my circumstances to shield me from my oppressors.  Instead, he provided a way through by giving me the ability to play the Sax.  This was my thing and no one could bother me with it.  It almost became my identity, but then came high school.

At the beginning of my tenth grade year, I was sent to attend Lafayette High School. Everything went up a huge notch for me. The Lafayette Band, "The Pride of the Bluegrass", had at that time about 140 students and of those 140 only about 8 of us were black.  The first day we sat down to play together it was immediately known in the alto section that I was best on the saxophone and that through challenges I could be first chair.  Lafayette had never had a black sax player before this time, especially one who could easily take the first chair in his sophomore year; however I did not.  I, instead, chose to let the white female senior keep the first chair and I played a strong second chair, first.  I did so because number one, she was a nice person who was nice to me, and number two, it was her senior year.  Needless to say, I did not score any points with the black students for not taking the chair and show the black pride they wanted to see.

On top of that I was chosen to join the "Lafayette Color Guard" which carried the US, French (for Lafayette), Kentucky, and (go Red, White, Blue) School Colors.  I carried the French Colors.  This, for me was the first special group of anything I had been in, and even though there was a degree of dissatisfaction within the group (one person) of my being in their traditionally white colorguard, I loved it and did the best I could.  We were a tight color guard for it.  It was physically demanding for me, especially during salutes when your body is all ready being bent forward and you have to bend a non-aligned knee joint and balance the Color in front of you.  That could not and would not keep me from being in the Colorguard and I did not let on to anyone about it.  I not only loved being in the color guard but that is also where I learned my love of America.  Color Guards today are more Banner Wavers.  There is nothing to guard anymore.  "Sad in my opinion".  Where is "Old Glory" in a society which seems to shun all America has stood for?

During that time the Vietnam war was in progress and the draft was in force.  America needed a boost (even more so today) and the Color Gaurd represented America.  There is nothing else compared to marching out in front of the crowd with precision, grace and uniformity, then, PRESENT...ARMS, snap into salute and hear the National Anthem, and not only hear it, but feel the roar of the crowd as the it ends.  ORDER...ARMS, snap back to attention and leave the field with just as much precision, grace and uniformity as the way you marched in.  It was life changing for me.  I was a part of something special.  Unfortunately, Color Guard was a sophomore position.

The rest of the band was great also.  At that time Leslie Anderson was director of the Lafayette Band.  I have always considered his leadership, and guidance as a teacher commendable.  Though a few of the black students in the band did not like him, I respected the man.  Before each performance he would have the entire band sit down and sing songs of challenge and hope, patriotism and peace, that not only cleared our minds to focus on the show we were about to perform but it also formed a cohesion within the band that actually caused us to put the "Pride of the Bluegrass" into each and every performance, and for me, I had the opportunity to be a part of something special, something I may never experience again.  I also found a group of individuals who became friends to a person who had no friends and did not know friendship.  Life was good!  Except outside the band.  In the real world I was now seen hanging out with white kids from the band.  My friends never knew the depth of my problems but I believed Mr. Anderson did.

I remember one day the Color Guard had to open an event in the gymnasium.  Now understand two things about the Color Guard.  Number one, the Color Guard marches everywhere they go, and number two, you will moved out of the way for the Color Guard.  When we marched in thru the outer doors of the gymnasium, we were loud and our presence caused people to make space for the Color Guard.  A marching wall of six guys.  The Commander to the right of the middle with a brass eagle mounted atop an eight foot pole carrying the American Colors, just barely clearing the door entrance and to his left three Color Bearers with spear tips on poles carrying the other colors, kept uniform and below the American Colors at all times , and then two Guards, with real Persian Rifles (non operative), on the ends.  The Color Guard demanded respect and it was given.

A group of blacks students (bad seeds) saw me and started to taunt me and were beginning the get closer and more threatening to the Color Guard.  The Color Bearers job was to Carry, Display, Present and Protect the Colors.  The two weapons on the end's job were to Guard, Present, and Protect the Colors and the Color Beares.  It was a serious responsibility and we took it very seriously and if the students encroached any further the weapons would have to do their job, and they would have done so with prejudice.  Not for hate of the black student's but for disrespect of the Colors.  That could have easily been the catalyst to throw the whole school into a open race war.  Wisely, Mr Anderson had the rest of the band, which were waiting to march in behind us, move in between to shield the Color Guard.  In fact, a couple of the band members we injured when the Color Guard came to attention because they were pressed in too close.

During my sophomoe year I dropped my old CONN while running to the end zone to rehearse the halftime show over again, and I really did it a job.  Once again my dad came through but this time he bought me the Rolls Royce of Alto Saxes, a Selmer Mark VI Alto Sax.  The feel, sound, and action of a that horn, a professional horn, was a real inspiration.  I don't know how he managed to get it, but I cherished that horn.  The band was very good and I was more than ready to play.  The next two years were better.  Many of the bullies could not make the grade and dropped out, were kicked out, or sent to Juvenile Lockup.  My friendships grew and so did my playing but for some reason I always held back.  I found it better to have friends and good relations than to show how good you are so I started slacking off on the practice and being a little less prepared.  I especially did this for the white girl who sat beside me for three years.  She was pretty good and I admired her tanacity at trying to beat me in challenges.  I remember the day she beat me in a challenge and how it boosted her self esteem to have the opportunity to play first chair for one of our concerts that year.  In doing so I may have diminished my chances for future stardom, but being in balance with others was good for me.  I did not like for others to feel bad.  I had friends.  Life was good.

I played all through High School and graduated in a dilemma; should I go college for music or should I go for something a little more secure like electronics?  I chose electronics and for the next four years I had only had hit or miss opportunities to play and usually at Jam sessions.  In February of 1974 I went to work on the West Coast in the Aerospace Industry.  In November 1974 my secure electronics job was laid on the political chopping block and 2500 of us, in what is now "Silicon Valley", were laid off the following day.  After that crash I had an almost great time hitchhiking back to Lexington, Kentucky from Sunnyvale California.  After 4 months in Lexington I realized that I was stuck in a job I was way over qualified for, was not making any money and I needed to get away.  Being back in Lexington was almost like never leaving.  The same bad seeds had not changed but I had, and a confrontation was inevitable and as the old scars started to reopen I was starting to have vengeful thoughts so I needed a way out of Lexington.  I had lost everything in the recession but my sax. 

However, I was not thinking about it when I joined the U.S. Army in July 1975.  When I enlisted into the Army I was trying to get as far from as many people as possible.  Events in my previous years had some old scars start making their presence known and I started to turn inward again.  I enlisted to be a Military Policeman in Alaska and planned live in the wilderness after my enlistment was up.  I was very comfortable being alone so I wanted no deviation in my plans.  Well, that just wasn't to be.  Due to no one's fault but my own I lost my option to go to Alaska as a Military Policeman and wound up a Wheel and Track Vehicle Mechanic in South Korea.  This change in direction as well as others to follow, now, seems like those events had a divine intervention.

While in training at Aberdeen Proving Grounds, Maryland, I discovered the base Recreation Center and the USO in Aberdeen.  I hooked up with a guitar player named Rodney Howell from New Jersey (Training Staff Sergeant), and a Drummer known as Mr. James (Eric James), a civilian who worked at the Recreation Center and who controlled the usage of the instruments.  Rodney and I were already tight from jammin' at the USO in town.  When we hooked up with Mr. James things exploded and we rocked the house.  Drums, Guitar and Sax, that is all we had and that was all it took to set the place on fire. After that, I was hot on the music trail again and became a regular attendee at every Army Recreation Center, USO, and Jam Session wherever I was stationed; that is until I went to South Korea and met Jacki.  The story of Jacki and I can be read in "Those Eyes". In June of 1976, after meeting Jacki, I had to sell my Selmer Mark VI Alto Sax.  It was a very sad day for me and yet a new beginning.

I did not have another Alto Sax until 1980 when a band by the name of "Fly By Night" came to the Jefferson Davis Inn in Lexington (yep!, I was back again).  The Alto player, Bob Gay, really got my attention.  He was great on his horn.  All the band members were Berklee Trained Musicians and they were very, very good.  I started feeling the needed to play again.  I needed another candy bar.  I went to Fred Moore Music to see about getting another horn but found the price for another Mark VI well out of range for my pocket, so I settled for a used Yamaha Professional Alto Sax.  It was a nice horn, but it did not, and no other sax has come close to the oneness I shared with the one my dad got for me.  In 1981, when my job with General Telephone of Kentucky moved to Duram, North Carolina.  We sold everything, bought an old Series 30 Step Van, (bread truck), made it into a camper and headed west.  We ran out of money in San Luis Obispo and that is how we arrived here on the California Central Coast.

By mid 1982, while working as a Communications Technician at Vandenber AFB, I was also playing Monday nights in the Allan Hancock College Community Band and Thursday nights with their Big Band.  On May 10th, 1983, I was saved by grace by my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, at a small, Full Gospel Church in Lompoc, California.  That evening, the pastor of the church had me play my sax and the Spirit of God moved.  What came through my horn was not something I had played before, nor heard before.  I asked God to make me a professional musician.  God answered my prayers far beyond my expectations.

My profession in music did not begin until 1985.  I was playing in a Saxophone Quartet (The Sisquoc Saxophone Society) in Santa Maria, California, for a Christmas Fair at the Santa Maria Fairpark.  A band, that was playing there, ask me if I would sit in.  The many years of Jam Sessions paid off as we proceeded to change the whole atmosphere in the place.   From there I played in Central California Coast groups like Best Friends, Mistaken Identity, Mudhole Blues Band, The Twisters, Driving Sideways and Bad Sushi.  Unfortunately, I became aware of why most musicians only play for a hobby.  Keeping a good band together was like trying to keep ice from melting on a hot sidewalk.  Reading the writing on the wall I started experimenting with the notion of a solo act.  My experience in Aerospace and Electronics made the technical side of music (i.e. MIDI Electronics and Audio Systems easy.  I took up singing and was on my way.

Though I continued to play with bands, my popularity as a Sax Player/Singer was growing.  I was making good money without the hassles of egos and a whole host of other problems that plague band success.  I love the energy and exchange of ideas in a band, but I get frustrated when every time something good starts to happen, the band falls apart.  I have been performing as a Solo Act for 25 years now, and though it can be boring at times, I get to play music for a living and since my volume is so adjustable I get gigs that a band would just be too loud for.