‘He was just one of the guys’

Andrew Glazer

Gordon “Tex” Beneke, 86, who as a sideman in the Glen Miller Orchestra

blew one of the most famous saxophone solos in popular music history,

died Tuesday of respiratory arrest in a Costa Mesa nursing home.

The Texas native will be long remembered for his sax playing, which

textured Miller’s iconic “In the Mood.” His robust singing voice

propelled the record “Chattanooga Choo-choo” to sell more than one

million copies, gilding the first certifiable Gold Record.

“Even though he was famous, he was still a good ol’ Texas boy,” said

Frank Amoss, president of the Orange County chapter of the Musicians

Union, who played drums for Beneke in the 1960s. “I used to run into him

at Norm’s on Harbor Boulevard. That was the kind of place he preferred.

He wouldn’t be seen down at the Ritz.”

Beneke was never one to show off his star status, Amoss said, despite the

musician’s dream of a life he lived.

After high school, Beneke toured with the Ben Young Orchestra. In 1938,

drummer Gene Krupa discovered him in Detroit and urged him to go to New

York City and audition for Glen Miller’s new band, which would become the

biggest of all Big Bands. He got the gig.

While driving with Miller a few years later, he began singing “Ida, Sweet

as Apple Cider.” Miller liked what he heard and made his saxophonist a

singer, backed by the Modernaires.

While Beneke was never entirely comfortable singing or leading a band,

his charisma, handsome rustic appearance and virtuosic singing and horn

blowing pushed him into the forefront.

When Miller disappeared over the English Channel in 1944, Beneke

continued leading the band and eventually formed his own.

“I always tried to promote him as a star,” said Chip Allen, who was

Beneke’s business manager for the last 14 years of his life. “But he

always said ‘no man, I’m just a sideman.’ ”

“His singing had a naive charm about it, the kind shared by the dance

music of the 1930s and 1940s,” said Michael Ullman, a jazz critic based

in the Boston area who teaches jazz history at Tufts University. But

Ullman said Beneke wasn’t entirely suited to be a romantic lead singer, a

la Frank Sinatra.

“It was against all odds that this goofy guy became a romantic figure. He

was the kind of guy who a pretty girl would feel warm feelings for, but

as a big brother or as a protector.”

Beneke’s tenor sax style, which Ullman described as a “polite form of

Coleman Hawkins,” remained with him until his health failed 10 years ago,

ending his horn career.

While Hawkins experimented with bebop in the 1950s, Beneke continued

playing Big Band music and lost some of his celebrity status.

But Beneke kept blowing through the decades, backed by his band, until a

stroke and Parkinson’s disease stopped him from playing five years ago.

However, he continued singing with his band at local benefits and

concerts across the country. His last performance was with the Cleveland

Jazz Orchestra in November.

“He was just one of the guys,” Amoss said. “A pleasure to play with. A

pleasure to know.”

Beneke is survived by his wife, Sandi, who lives in Santa Ana. A memorial

service will be held at 1 p.m. June 10 at the Musician’s Union, 2050 S.

Main St., in Santa Ana.