The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Thursday, February 15, 1996            TAG: 9602150048
SECTION: DAILY BREAK              PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 
TYPE: Profile 
SOURCE: BY RICKEY WRIGHT, STAFF WRITER 
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  194 lines

MISS RHYTHM ROCKS ON RIDING HIGH, RUTH BROWN COMES HOME TO PORTSMOUTH THIS WEEKEND TO CELEBRATE HER NEW AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

IT PAYS to have fans.

Ruth Brown can testify to that. Were it not for some listeners in high places, the Portsmouth native's life over the past decade would have been markedly different.

What if fate hadn't connected her with Howell Begle, a Washington, D.C., lawyer who grew up listening to the sides the former Ruth Weston cut for Atlantic Records in the '50s? She might never have become a leader in the struggle to claim back royalties for dozens of older R&B performers the music industry had ripped off.

Imagine if writer Andrew Yule hadn't pressed her to reminisce about the twists and turns of her life? The 68-year-old Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member might be doing something else this weekend besides returning to her hometown to celebrate the publication of her new autobiography, ``Miss Rhythm,'' with a concert and a book signing. Her friend Freddy Cole, brother of Nat, will open the Saturday show at Willett Hall.

Of course, Ruth Brown knows a thing or two about perseverance. ``Miss Rhythm'' is a tale both singular and representative of an entire generation of great musicians who were shown the door by a trend-chasing music business.

She was such an important star in the '50s that Atlantic Records was often called ``the House That Ruth Built.'' Yet, by the mid-'60s, she was largely out of work. Creative accounting ensured that reissues of hits like ``(Mama) He Treats Your Daughter Mean'' and ``Lucky Lips'' put no money in her bank account.

In 1975, her pal Redd Foxx, then hot with ``Sanford and Son,'' paid her way out West to help reintroduce her talents to the world. Up until then, she fed her kids by taking any job she could, from a domestic to a Head Start teachers' aide.

``I've found a way to not let them bury me,'' she said in a recent interview from her Las Vegas home. ``When I needed to put food on the table, I got me a 9-to-5 job. I'm not ashamed to take a cookin' job when I need to. I'm a good cook!''

Such versatility carried her through years of battling Atlantic and other major labels for economic justice for acts exploited by the system.

``The reality is, most of these artists did not make money from their records,'' said Begle, the attorney who took on Brown's case and worked as her de facto manager for several years. ``They almost considered it an honor to have their music recorded, and they made their money from live performances.

``Ruth - her position has been very consistent. These were truly matters of principle.'' The beginning

Ruth Brown grew up on Nelson Street in downtown Portsmouth. She can conjure sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes hilarious images of segregation-era life in that Southern city.

She never visited the Colonial Theater, which reserved its balcony for blacks. Instead, her first moviegoing experiences came at another Portsmouth moviehouse, the Capitol, which regularly featured films with all-African-American casts. ``Ralph Cooper, who later became MC at New York's Apollo, was the top black gangster'' in those films, Brown wrote. `` `Murder on Lenox Avenue'? I was there! `After Dark in Harlem'? Right there, too!''

A cheerleader in the '40s for I.C. Norcom High School, Brown laughs loudly while recalling Norcom triumphs over rival schools.

``We'd beat them. After that, they'd chase us back to the ferry. They used to make us run for our lives,'' she said merrily. ``Then we'd get to the river and get away. It wasn't always to our advantage, because sometimes the ferry wouldn't be there.''

Her early singing experiences at Emanuel A.M.E. Church in Olde Towne gave way to her reign as the ``forces' sweetheart'' at a local USO chapter. Forbidden to sing blues or jazz by her strict father, Leonard, she soon left town with Raleigh Randolph's band to chase the music and break a pattern of non-musical, dead-end jobs.

``I started singin' because there came a time when I needed to get out of Portsmouth. There is a way of getting away, and that is the voice.''

On the road and in love with a trumpeter named Jimmy Earle Brown, Ruth Weston soon found herself headed back to a gig in the city she had escaped.

``I thought, `I gotta have a paper when I go back there.' In those days, you know, you didn't just run off with a male band!''

So she became Ruth Weston Brown. Little did she know that Mr. Brown had more than one Mrs. Brown. After an annulment, Ruth stayed on with his Band of Atomic Swing, but kept an eye open for a better situation.

By the time of her early-'50s smash hits, she and her father had reached an understanding. He even became a fan of her R&B.

``I realize now the man was just frustrated. And he had the voice. He just never got out of Portsmouth. He probably saw in me what he wanted to be. I regret that we didn't get the chance to really talk it out.''

Brown has won admiration among Portsmouth's current leaders for continuing to tout her Virginia roots no matter how far she travels.

It was in the late-'80s glow of John Waters' film ``Hairspray,'' in which Brown appeared as hilarious rhyming DJ Motormouth Maybelle, that Portsmouth Mayor Gloria Webb first became aware of her.

``I'm probably the president of her fan club,'' Webb said last week. ``I saw her on TV and she was always supporting the city. She always mentioned Portsmouth wherever she was. She was getting all this recognition, and I thought, `Everyone else is recognizing her, why not us?' ''

After attending a dinner for notable offspring of the city, Brown returned in 1990 for the renaming of two streets for her - including Nelson Street. Webb traveled to Broadway to catch her Tony Award-winning performance in the musical ``Black and Blue.''

The Willett Hall concert bears the title ``A Song for Goldie,'' named for her sister, who's lately suffered a stroke.

``Why her? I was a devil in my own quiet way, but not them. She's the one sibling I lean toward to help me see something better.''

The star's concern for her relatives was one reason she was hesitant to open up her past for ``Miss Rhythm.'' The outgoing Ruth Brown had kept some things under wraps - notably, the pain of spousal abuse - even as her star began to rise again since the '80s with Tony and Grammy awards.

``I came from the kind of family that if you went through that kind of thing, you kept quiet about it. I hesitated, because there were some things I didn't want my mom reading about. Now I'd rather tell it myself than after I'm gone, someone else does it.''

Coauthor Yule had the advantage of understanding Brown's importance as an artist and activist.

The Scottish-born author first encountered Miss Rhythm while aboard a British National Service vessel in 1960, he said last week from his home in Connecticut. One of his duties was playing record requests for sailors.

``We had something like 150 records on the ship, and there were a couple of Ruth Brown records,'' he said. Yule enjoyed her music, so he kept plugging her through the monthlong voyage. ``By the time we got back, No. 1 was `(Mama) He Treats Your Daughter Mean,' and No. 2 was (Brown's) ``Oh, What a Dream.' ''

Three decades later, he caught Brown and Bonnie Raitt on TV discussing the Rhythm & Blues Foundation, formed to provide monetary assistance to vintage artists.

``There was Ruth, so articulate and sparkling, telling her story. I thought, `My God, it's a biographer's dream.' You'd be surprised, the celebrities you meet and they can barely put two words in a row. You read all these books, Martha and the Vandellas and the rest, and they're all fine artists, but to me what separates (Ruth) from the rest is her incredible comeback, and her fight not just for herself, but all the other artists. That caps an already amazing life.''

Brown recounts with some amusement her initial meeting with Yule in New York.

``He came into my dressin' room. I was workin' a club called Fat Tuesday's. When he had a chance, he brought his albums over to me. While I was signing the albums, he said, `I think you have an interesting story, from what little I've read about you.' Most of what he'd read had been on the backs of albums.

``I said, `Nobody's interested in my life story. It's not dirty enough.' I know it takes a little dirt and trash to sell a book. There's a few things I might still do, but most of it, I'm too old to consider.''

Following Yule's suggestion that she sit down with a tape recorder and let the memories flow, Brown hit her stride.

``I told the truth about people. Where a lot of people are concerned, the truth hurts. It may irritate some people. I don't care, if it'll benefit somebody else.''

After this weekend, Brown will continue promoting ``Miss Rhythm.'' She'll be a presenter at the R&B Foundation's annual Pioneer Awards in Los Angeles during Grammy week. She'll be backed by a full orchestra at an Ella Fitzgerald tribute at Carnegie Hall this summer. And there's talk of a new deal with Virgin Records in the wake of her recent stint at New York's Rainbow and Stars cabaret, and an appearance on Raitt's 1995 concert album ``Road Tested.''

``Sweetheart, this is what I'm trying to get people to understand. I can appreciate the Foundation and the grants they give out, but nothing matters like walking out on that stage. I was so rejuvenated. And Bonnie plays such big places, with 12- or 13,000 people a night. Of course, the stage was so big it took me a long time to walk across. By the time I got to the center, my whole introduction was gone.''

It's with hard-won satisfaction and gratitude that Ruth Brown looks back on the honors of recent years.

``When I close my eyes, I don't need no (funeral) service. They've done it all for me.'' MEMO: THE BOOK OF RUTH

Ruth Brown's autobiography reviewed on page E3

ILLUSTRATION: Brown performing at the Blues Awards in Memphis in 1989.

Ruth Brown's hits in the '50s included "Mama, He Treats Your

Daughter Mean."

Ruth Brown with Freddy Cole

Where: Willett Hall, Portsmouth

When: 8 p.m. Saturday

How much: $13.50

Call: 671-8100, to order tickets. For more information, call the

box office at 393-5144.

Signing: Ruth Brown will sign copies of her autobiography, ``Miss

Rhythm,'' at 2 p.m. Sunday at Portsmouth City Council Chambers, 801

Crawford St.

FILE PHOTO

Ruth Brown had tears in her eyes in 1990 when the city of Portsmouth

renamed two streets for her.

BLACK HISTORY

Infoline offers information on famous African Americans. Call

640-5555, enter category 2525. You must have a touch-tone phone.

KEYWORDS: INTERVIEW by CNB