THE TRAGIC AND TROUBING DEATH OF SAM COOKE

 As customary as it may be to speak of the early deaths of artists as untimely, the case of Sam Cooke is indeed the story of a career cut short at the height of its powers. Cooke had already built a prolific career in R&B and pop by the time he was shot dead under mysterious circumstances in Los Angeles in 1964. But his posthumous release, the hauntingly beautiful “A Change is Gonna Come” hinted at the direction his musical career was headed as the Civil Rights Movement picked up steam. 

Music had been in Cooke’s blood almost from an early age. Born to a Baptist minister in the Delta town of Clarksdale, Mississippi in 1931, the young Cooke was singing in the choir of his father’s church since he was six. 

Before Cooke was twenty he joined the gospel group The Soul Stirrers. It was with the Soul Stirrers that Cooke’s remarkable vocal talent became recognized in such recordings as “Jesus Gave Me Water” and “End of My Journey”. Church music never fully left Cooke’s soul but his recognition became too big for it to contain him and by 1956 he had crossed over to pop music. His first recording “Lovable”, a secularized version of an earlier gospel hymn was a modest success but “You Send Me” was a 1957 chart topper.

For the next few years Sam Cooke would become one of the most popular recording artists of the early days of the pre-Beatles era. His music crossed genres. Though Cooke will be first and foremost identified as a soulful R&B artist his portfolio spanned pop, elements of doo-wop and some novelty songs. More importantly, Cooke’s music transcended racial lines at an especially turbulent time. Music has always played a significant role in highlighting race relations, a fact made most evident during times of otherwise heightened tension. As early as the Harlem Renaissance the music of Black artists found a welcoming audience in White homes and as embarrassing (not to mention offensive) as their attempts may be today, the imitation of Black music by early recording White artists like Al Jolson were rooted in a deep admiration for pioneers like Scott Joplin. Of course, music also brought the ugly truth to the surface for some of the White musicians who were influenced by Black artists. Jazz singer Louie Prima often found himself barred from clubs as, solely because of his singing voice, he was confused for Black. Elvis would face similar attacks and rock & roll as a genre was ostracized by the older White generation in its earliest years as “Black music”. But, and this is the bright side, their kids loved it. For, at its best, music created a bridge in race relations when few bridges could even be dreamt of. A case could be made that music played a vital role in the bettering of America’s racial problems as it presented a segway in. After all, without the gift of music Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. could not have desegregated Las Vegas. 

Sam Cooke was among the lucky Black singers who had little trouble developing a fan base among all Americans, in part this may have been precisely because of his skillful blending of various genres. He performed both at the Copa and then at the Harlem Square Club and covers of his songs were performed by everyone from Cat Stevens to the Supremes to Simon & Garfunkle to the Spinners. 

In 1960 Cooke signed a deal with RCA Victor and the following year Cooke started his own label with SAR Records. Despite the drowning death of his youngest child in 1963 at the family’s swimming pool, things could not have looked brighter for Sam Cooke in the early 60s. He was an artist at the height of his fame who had broken barriers both socially and artistically. Then came the night of December 11, 1964 and the dream was over. 

The full story of Sam Cooke’s death will likely never be known as two of the three players are dead. 

The initial story was questionable if only for its brevity. But from it we can start with at least the known facts. Cooke was found dead at the Hacienda Motel, a known haven for prostitution and other illicit activity, a single shot through the chest. The shot was fired by the motel manager, Bertha Franklin. A short, though brawny, older woman, Franklin told responding officers that Cooke had entered her room in a fit of rage, claiming that Frankling was hiding the prostitute (who would later by identified as 22-year-old Elisa Boyer) who had stolen his money. According to Franklin, Cooke lunged at her, there was a scuffle during which time she managed to get her pistol, fired three times, hitting Cooke once and killing him. Some parts of Franklin’s story are at least partially true. At the time of the incident she was on the phone with the motel’s owner, Evelyn Carr, who testified to having heard Cooke entering the room and the ensuing altercation. No money was found in his wallet though he was that night carrying $5,000, giving credence to the statement that the Boyer stole his money, thus enraging him. On autopsy Cooke did show signs of blunt trauma and his alcohol level was twice the legal driving limit. 

Police initially labeled it a justifiable homicide and, ultimately, that is what the jury would decide. However, holes in the story became evident and the night is still shrouded in mystery. Cooke’s family, friends and associates rejected the official account from the start. In part this was due to the LAPD conducting a mere cursory investigation. Muhammad Ali saw elements of racism in this, stating, “If Cooke had been Frank Sinatra, the Beatles or Ricky Nelson, the FBI would be investigating.”

In fairness to the responding officers the scene did not initially radiate a racially motivated crime, at least superficially. Franklin herself was Black and Boyer was of mixed European and Asian heritage. At least to a degree, law enforcement’s disinterest in the case was due to location and circumstance. The Hacienda Motel had a reputation as a hook-up house and its very name carried a stigma.

Conversely this is also a point of contention with many of Cooke’s friends. Why would a man of his reputation and stature choose such a sleazy place to take a lady when there were many other options better fitted to a celebrity…unless he was lured there? Could this have been a setup to rob a popular singer?

Again, much of the story seems destined to remain shrouded in mystery but the known facts offer some clues. That night Cooke had been dining with friends at Martoni’s, a high-end restaurant popular with LA’s music scene. According to his friend and producer Al Schmitt, who was with him that night, Cooke, after many drinks, began engaging with a young lady later identified as Elisa Boyer. Cooke’s wife, Barbara, knew of her husband’s night habits but accepted them seemingly as the cost of being married to a celebrity.

Cooke left Martoni’s with Boyer and, according to records, checked in with her at the Hacienda (about 15 miles away from Martoni’s) at 2:35 in the morning. 

Of what happened next only Boyer’s account is available. According to her testimony at the trial, while in their room, Cooke disrobed, then yanked off her clothing. Believing he was going to rape her, Boyer went to scoop her clothing off the floor and in haste picked up Cooke’s clothing by mistake along with the wallet containing the $5,000. 

In part, it must be said, this does line up to an enraged Cooke barging into the office of the motel manager demanding to know where the girl who stole from him was being sheltered. Nevertheless, there are some troubling questions that linger. Cooke was unarmed when he first confronted Franklin. While one can argue that he was still a threat as he was larger than her, there were no signs of a physical altercation on Franklin and the bullet that killed Cooke was from a .22 pistol and not a .32 like the one Franklin owned. Further, no guests at the motel claimed to have heard any commotion.

Cooke’s sister Agnes Cooke-Hoskins said, “I can imagine him saying 'Give me my pants.' But I can't imagine him attacking her. He wasn't that type of person to attack somebody. That wasn't his bag. He was a lover, OK. He wasn't a fighter. He wasn't a boxer. You never heard of Sam Cooke beating up his women. I would say within the community there is not a single person that believes that Sam Cooke died as he is said to have died: killed by a motel owner at a cheap motel in Los Angeles called the Hacienda which he had gone to with a prostitute named Elisa Boyer.”

Whatever happened the death of Sam Cooke brought an abrupt and far too early end to an irreplaceable music legend who, judging by his posthumous hit the following year was bound for even greater things. The truth of his last night may never be fully known but of what there is no dispute is that Sam Cooke left us with music that at a time of turbulence knew no racial bounds, delighted fans and even gave a little hope for a more wonderful world.