Deconstructing Sammy

by Matt Birkbeck

  Army Archerd’s Variety column on March 5, 1999, led off with the news about the Gary Smith/David Wolper mini-series television project, and also touched on the years it took to resolve the IRS debt, and the time Altovise spent in rehab and working minimum-wage jobs. The column also quoted Sonny, who said he had researched Sammy’s career and discovered he was a tragic victim who had quickly been forgotten.

  “So many people had raped and pillaged this man,” said Sonny. “The challenge is to give a rebirth to his legacy as the greatest single all-around talent of this century.”

  As Sammy’s sole heir to his estate, Altovise could live modestly, perpetuating Sammy’s legacy while moving on with her own life. But Altovise wouldn’t have it, and instead of basking in the glow of the great accomplishment of the upcoming Rhino box set, she continued to press Sonny to find new deals and new money. She urged Sonny to fly to Las Vegas and Los Angeles to meet with an assortment of individuals who had one bad idea after another. She also demanded that Sonny fly to Memphis to meet with Priscilla Presley to discuss opening a Sammy Davis Jr. museum. Altovise was looking at dollar signs while Sonny was trying to rebuild Sammy’s name, and his intention was to find something that would capitalize on the box set, like finalizing a movie or Broadway musical, or even a documentary. But Altovise had other ideas, and she took it upon herself to agree to sell Sammy’s life story to Daphna Edwards, an inexperienced television producer. Unbeknown to Sonny, Edwards pitched the Sammy Davis Jr. television movie to the various networks at the same time Gary Smith was preparing to make his pitch. When Sonny confronted Altovise, she claimed that Edwards was an old friend and they talked about doing a Sammy movie as far back as 1991, but no contracts had been signed. Altovise also admitted to plans with Edwards for a book on Sammy’s life and a coffee table book of photos. She also said Edwards loaned her over $15,000.

  The resulting confusion over the conflicting claims of who actually owned the rights needed to produce a film led ABC, NBC, and CBS to pass on the project. It was Tracey Davis who tipped Sonny off that something was amiss when she learned that NBC had passed on the movie following a meeting with Altovise and Edwards. Furious, Tracey called Altovise directly, but Altovise denied the meeting ever took place. Whatever goodwill remained from the family meeting at May Britt’s apartment vanished. Sonny, still hoping to salvage a television movie, sought to extricate Altovise from Edwards, offering to repay the $15,000 loan. But Edwards claimed that she and an associate had already worked to set up the Sammy Davis project with the networks and demanded a producer’s credit and another $30,000. Sonny could feel a movie deal slipping away, and he could see and hear and feel Altovise breaking away from his counsel—and his friendship.

  Yes I Can!: The Sammy Davis Jr. Story was finally released by Rhino and Warner Bros. on November 9, 1999. The four-CD, best-of box set featured ninety-one Sammy Davis Jr. songs, all digitally remastered, tracing Sammy’s entire career from “Smile, Darn Ya, Smile” in 1949 through “Life Is a Woman” in 1978. The set included sixty-nine studio recordings and a full disc of Sammy performing live on stage at the Sands casino, singing Broadway standards, doing impersonations, and thrilling his audience. The packaging was impressive and featured a photo of a smiling Sammy standing in front of the Sands, dressed in a white jacket and matching pants, with a red turtleneck shirt and black shoes, his name splashed in large blue letters on the Copa Room marquee. Inside, along with the four CDs, was a carefully crafted rectangular booklet filled with liner notes, discography, and track listing, and tributes written by composer Leslie Bricusse and Gerald Early, an English professor from Washington University in St. Louis. Most impressive, aside from the actual music, were the photos, dozens of which covered the six decades of Sammy’s life.

  Rhino Records, Ron Weisman, and Sonny had taken great care in producing the box set. It was a project of love, and the first major project since Sammy’s death that truly celebrated his talent. After nine years, Sammy was rediscovered, thanks chiefly to resolving what had been a publishing nightmare. So many companies, other than Sammy, owned his recordings, and getting their permission had proved nearly as arduous as finding the masters that Sammy did own. In the end, the hard work was worth it. The project was completed, the public was thrilled, and the reviews were spectacular. Sammy was alive again, as people talked about him, wrote about him, and listened to him.

  Sonny had spent much of the year working with Weisner on the project, negotiating rights to various songs, finding the right people to write tributes, helping choose the songs, and selecting the best photos. But one photo that stuck out like a sore thumb was near the very end of the ninety-six-page booklet. It was a two-page color photo of Altovise posing on a chaise, dressed in an evening gown, her cleavage visible, under the famous photo of Sammy in white face when he was three years old. Sonny had talked Weisner into giving Altovise a producer’s credit, saying it would help in her continued recovery. But Altovise wanted more and insisted on the photo. Weisner grudgingly agreed.

  The box set was released just months before Sammy was scheduled to be honored by the Charles H. Wright Museum of African-American History in Detroit. In July 1999, the museum announced that Sammy would receive the 2000 Ford Freedom Award, which was awarded posthumously to an individual who had dedicated their life to improving the African-American community and the world at large. The award ceremony was a two-day event held at the museum in Detroit in February 2000 and culminated with a lavish dinner where the recipient was commemorated with a brass nameplate placed in the museum rotunda. Sammy’s children Tracey, Mark, and Jeff were invited and would join Altovise and Sonny, who was ecstatic. The Ford Freedom Award was a great honor and yet another sign that Sammy’s legacy had indeed been resuscitated. When he called Altovise with the news, she too was excited. Sonny said he’d have Ann Hoehne make all the arrangements, including the flights and hotel, and they’d arrive together. Altovise said no, explaining that she was staying in Los Angeles and would meet Sonny there.

  The black-tie dinner was held on February 17, 2000, and ticket prices ranged from $1,000 to $15,000. Gregory Hines was named the Ford Freedom Award Scholar and was scheduled to perform in honor of Sammy and bring him to life in dance and song and a speech about his old friend.

  When Sonny arrived, he saw Mark and Jeff Davis sitting at the main table up front. Tracey refused to attend, reminding everyone of the painful meeting at May’s condo and that she wanted nothing to do with Altovise.

  “I’m not going anywhere near that,” Tracey had said of the event.

  Sonny traded hugs with Mark and Jeff, and then he looked around.

  “Where’s Altovise?” Sonny said.

  No sooner was the question asked than Altovise arrived arm in arm with a light-skinned black man with slicked-back hair. He was short, around Sammy’s height, and Altovise introduced Sonny, Mark, and Jeff to her friend, Tony Francis. Altovise told everyone that Tony was an old friend she knew when she was with Sammy.

  Sonny could smell the liquor on Altovise’s breath as Tony glad-handed Mark and Jeff and anyone else he could grab and say hello to. Tony took Sonny’s hand and gave him a hug while Altovise beamed.

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” Tony said.

  Tony sat between Sonny and Altovise and peppered Sonny with questions about Sammy, his business dealings, and the estate. The more Tony talked, the angrier Sonny became. Who was this guy?

  “Just be cool,” he told himself as Altovise introduced Tony to Gregory Hines, museum officials, and other well-wishers.

  The award presentation following the dinner started off well, with tributes to Sammy and his lifetime pursuit to break down color barriers. Altovise was given a standing ovation when she strode to the podium to deliver her brief speech, and when she finished, she basked in the glow of another ovation. But as Altovise returned to the table and the applause waned, Tony suddenly stood up and yelled out to the audience that he wanted to perform an impromptu tribute to Sammy.


  Sonny, Mark, and Jeff watched incredulously as Tony jumped on the stage, cued the band, and belted out the first few words to “Mr. Bojangles.” Then he danced and tried to mimic Sammy’s great tapping skills, but it was a terrible impersonation, and Sonny squirmed in his seat while Mark and Jeff got up from their chairs and walked to the back of the hall. Sonny watched them go and then followed them, and together they watched as Tony completed his “act” to mild applause and returned to Altovise, who gave him a long, loving, approving embrace.

  “Holy shit, this is so embarrassing,” said Mark.

  The brothers said good-bye to Sonny and angrily left for their hotel while Sonny remained in the rear, watching as the ceremony concluded and Altovise and Tony left arm in arm for their room.

  In 2000 Sonny filed a lawsuit against Universal Music Group and PolyGram Records, claiming they reneged on several contracts they had with Sammy in the 1970s.

  The suit alleged that MGM-Verve Records failed to pay Sammy royalties on thirty-five of his songs over a twenty-three-year period and also failed to return the masters to Sammy, which Sonny claimed they were contractually obligated to do. The recordings were for MGM-Verve, which was later bought by PolyGram, which was taken over by Universal.

  “This is one of the most abusive and outrageous examples of record companies defrauding an artist of royalties and attempting to keep valuable master recordings that were the property of Sammy Davis Jr.,” said Sonny in his suit.

  Aside from the lawsuit, Sonny worked with Gary Smith to sell Sammy’s television film to a network. NBC expressed interest, as did ABC. But no contracts had been signed and nothing was cemented. Altovise continued to press Sonny for more deals, and she responded to Sonny’s usual calls for patience with coldness and indignation. Altovise either refused to believe or couldn’t understand that her husband, who grossed millions when he was alive, had limited income potential in death. Sonny counseled Altovise to find a job and begin a new life, but his advice was dismissed. It would have mattered, but Sonny had other, more important issues to deal with.

  Sonny and his wife, Patricia, decided to separate. She had come to Pennsylvania from Hong Kong and expected to build a life with Sonny, but he had poured so much of his time and effort into Altovise and the Sammy estate it left little time to nurture a young marriage. Patricia also thought Altovise was using Sonny, and she told him so during heated arguments. But Sonny just couldn’t hear her. He was on a mission, and that mission had a purpose. And the focus and determination that made him a successful attorney and investigator played havoc with his personal life.

  Sonny also had to deal with his parents. The Hillside had suffered financially for several years and was in turmoil, and the burden became too great to bear for the Judge and Mama. They decided they wanted out and pressured Sonny to buy the resort outright. Sonny was put on the spot, but said no. So the Judge put the Hillside up for sale and watched and listened as potential buyers came and went, people who kicked the tires, spouting “black pride” speeches about the importance of the Hillside but in reality were looking to get a deal on 109 acres they could turn into some strip mall. Sonny decided to take matters into his own hands. He went to the bank and learned that his father was behind on the mortgage payments. The Judge had borrowed $2.2 million in 1988 to renovate the Hillside, and twelve years later the debt was down to $1.2 million. But the mortgage, which began with monthly-interest-only payments of $9,000 the first two years, had risen to $15,000 per month with the addition of principal. As business suffered and revenues dropped, the Judge sent what he could, sometimes $8,000, more some months, less others. The bank officer said something had to be done, immediately, to bring the account current or else they would have to begin foreclosure proceedings. Sonny knew his parents would be devastated if they were threatened with foreclosure, and he didn’t want them to suffer that embarrassment.

  “Don’t tell my parents,” said Sonny, “and I’ll work out something.”

  Sonny was given access to the mortgage files, and he was flabbergasted by the terms of the original loan. Sonny knew about the double-digit interest rate, which was at least two points higher than the favorable rates at the time. But he didn’t know that in addition to putting up the Hillside and the property as collateral, his parents had to use their home and pensions as additional securities for the loan. Sonny was appalled. The bank had tied his parents up completely, and he immediately thought of the Judge and his growing resentment, which spilled over the years into painful soliloquies.

  “What more do I have to do? I fought for my country. I was good to my family. I have a business. I was a judge. I do everything right, but I’m still not equal,” said the Judge.

  Sonny secretly negotiated for three months with the bank, which agreed to a payoff of $850,000 to settle the mortgage. Sonny borrowed $1 million from another bank, paid off the Hillside note, and with the extra money he paid the Hillside’s other outstanding bills. He also gained the release of his parents’ home and pensions. The Hillside now belonged to Sonny.

  Mama was happy that her son would continue their legacy, but for the Judge it was a difficult transition. The Hillside was his life, and since Sonny was still his son, the Judge refused to accept the fact that he was no longer the owner. The Hillside was still his, he thought, a place where he welcomed Al Sharpton and the sons of Jesse Jackson and Martin Luther King Jr. and the National Association of Black Journalists. Sonny took over the Hillside out of love for his parents, but given the hell he received from the Judge, he wondered why he did it at all.

  The problems with his personal life and the Hillside overshadowed his dealings with Altovise, who had all but abandoned him, checking in only to ask for money and to see if any new venture was on the horizon. Sonny did have some incredible news on December 12, 2000.

  Following the release of the Rhino box set, Sonny and Ron Weisner talked at length about Sammy’s lengthy recording career and the fact he had never won a Grammy Award, the music industry’s highest honor. Given the wonderful reviews and immediate success of the box set, Weisner called the Grammy committee and suggested that Sammy be given a posthumous award for Lifetime Achievement. The committee took the suggestion under consideration, and weeks passed without a word. Finally, Weisner learned that the Grammy trustees had indeed voted to award Sammy a posthumous Lifetime Achievement Award, and when he called to break the news, Sonny was beside himself, jumping up and down in the Hillside office.

  The Judge didn’t know what to make of his son.

  “You don’t understand, Judge. We got Sammy a Grammy!” Sonny yelled.

  Sonny immediately called Altovise, who was with her mother in Queens. She appeared sincerely happy with the news, and she thanked Sonny for his efforts. Following their brief conversation, Sonny called Tracey Davis, who cried, as did Mark and Jeff, who were all overcome with joy. It was the first time ever that Sammy was officially acknowledged as a great singer. Coming off the Ford Freedom Award, this was yet another special moment for Sammy, and Tracey, Mark, and Jeff all thanked Sonny for his efforts.

  “We’ll all go to the awards show together,” said Sonny.

  Their strained relationship notwithstanding, Sonny still believed that Altovise needed a confidence boost and, with this great honor, he hoped she’d finally see his vision for her future, and for Sammy’s legacy. Sonny made sure that Altovise received a formal invitation to attend the ceremony, which was scheduled for February 21, 2001, at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. Grammy officials had to be notified in advance who each honoree would be taking as a guest, and Sonny figured he’d attend with Altovise while Weisner would get additional tickets for Sammy’s children. The evening promised to be spectacular. Others receiving Lifetime Achievement Awards included the Beach Boys, Tony Bennett, Bob Marley, and The Who. Among those nominated for awards were U2, Madonna, ’N Sync, Beck, Eminem, Paul Simon, Faith Hill, Britney Spears, and Sting.

  But as the ceremony drew closer, Sonny, Tracey, Mark, and Jeff ha
d yet to receive their tickets, and Sonny called Weisner to inquire about the ticket situation.

  “Listen, I was just going to call you,” said Weisner. “Altovise submitted her ticket request and she’s taking some guy named Tony Francis. He’s going to be her escort.”

  Weisner heard nothing but dead air.

  “Sonny, you there?”

  “Yeah Ron, I’m here,” said Sonny.

  The news took the air out of his lungs.

  “I don’t think I’m going to make it,” said Sonny.

  “Nonsense,” said Weisner. “Listen, don’t worry about it. I’ve got tickets for us. I’ll see you out here.”

  The ceremony was a painful blur. Altovise walked the red carpet with Tony Francis, and when she accepted the Grammy on behalf of Sammy, she thanked a host of people, without a single mention of Sonny. Aside from a “Hello,” she never spoke to Sonny, who sat with Ron Weisner, Jeff Davis, and Jeff’s girlfriend. Neither Tracey nor Mark could get tickets, and Tracey was furious. This was one event she wanted to attend.

  “But we’re his kids!” she screamed.

  Sonny said there wasn’t anything he could do about it. And despite his work leading up to the ceremony, he never even saw the Grammy Award.

  The bittersweet Grammy experience left Sonny in a daze, and the reality of his situation with Altovise had finally sunk in, long after others had not only warned him what would happen, but predicted he’d end up on Altovise’s scrap heap of lawyers. Norman Lear warned him, as did Tracey and Mark and Finkelstein and Cosby and even his estranged wife, Patricia. Sonny had poured his heart into representing Sammy’s estate, so much so that his general belief in the goodness of people blinded him to the realities of Hollywood, and even life. He became reflective and studied his own motives. Why would he go so long with a single client who paid little money? Did he simply get caught up in what he thought was a just cause, a good fight, as he did when he dedicated himself to the E. F. Hutton investigation? Couldn’t he see past that? Or was it something else? Tracey Davis never thought Sonny was in it for the money. But she did think that Sonny considered representing Sammy’s estate as a feather in the cap of his burgeoning entertainment law practice. Sonny couldn’t buy that. Tracey didn’t know him, and he knew himself too well. Hell, he was the only son of Mama and the Judge, and those weren’t values they taught or appreciated.