The Suit Magazine

Not every kid can stroll through Manhattan and stumble across a street named after his dad. But Aaron A. Woodward III, the informally adopted son oflegendary late jazz bandleader William “Count” Basie, can.

Today, Woodward is CEO of Count Basie Enterprises, the administrative operation behind the Count Basie Orchestra. The iconic big band, established by the Count more than half a century ago, is still enrapturing audiences around the globe with the signature sound of Basie, 26 years after his death.
Woodward, 63, an ordained minister and an accountant by profession, had assumed leadership over his adoptive father’s enterprise in 1983, a year before Basie died.

As a young man, Woodard never anticipateddevoting his adult life to running one of the most influential jazz bands in history. He grew up in 1950s and ‘60s in St. Albans, Queens when the neighborhood was home to such notable residents as Lena Horne, Ella Fitzgerald, James Brown and John Coltrane. He was barely ten years old when he first met his neighbors across the street – Count Basie and his wife, Catherine, whom he affectionately refers to as ‘Ma.’  Ma Basie and Woodward had an immediate connection. “My spirit and her spirit met, even when I was a little guy,” he says, describing her as “a piece of work.” She had a profound impact on his life, teaching him how to swim, how to think, and how to interact with young ladies.

Most memorable to young Woodward, Ma Basie had taught him how to drive, using none other than the Count’s 1960 convertible Cadillac – the second largest Cadillac ever made, he says. This Cadillac also got Woodward into some trouble when, as a mischievous 14-year-old, he tried to use it to start Basie’s battery-dead Jaguar – by pushing the Cadillac against it.  Ma Basie had been working in the house when Woodward and his adopted Basie brother, Lamont Gilmore, said to her, “Hey, Ma, we wanna start up Dad’s car.”
“No, dear, you can’t push a car with a Cadillac,” she replied.

They heard her, but the boys felt they knew more about cars than she did, and decided to “give it a go.” Of course, things didn’t go as planned; the Cadillac ran into the Jaguar and knocked out the grill. But good-spirited Ma didn’t reprimand them. In fact, says Woodward, she must have amusedly watched them do it through the window. “We learned that we shouldn’t have done it, but she gave us an opportunity to do something that we otherwise would not have had the chance to do.”

Dad Basie was always on the road with his band, Woodward recalls, and often away from home. “He was a mystical character who would come in and out, and everyone would say, ‘Oooh,… Count Basie!’” he says. But despite Basie’s celebrity status, Woodward fondly remembers him being a very regular guy – warm, loving, kind and personable. “He would never disrespect another human being or say that your accolades or acknowledgment of him were any less than worthy of his best. That’s a classy guy.”  As the years progressed, a very close and personal relationship grew between Woodward and the Basies. Even though he had parents who loved him, he says, the Basies took him under their wings and treated him as if he were their own, ultimately considering him their son. They remained close to him even when he left New York to attend college in Ohio.

Upon graduating college, Woodward returned to New York and landed his first job with the First National City Bank. In fact, Ma Basie’s connections in the area (she was an avid community activist) helped him get the job. Woodward was eventually awarded a managerial position at the Madison Avenue and 65th Street branch in Manhattan. “It was a privilege,” he says.   However, with the privilege came difficulty. As an African American, Woodward faced challenges at his job. “But I was taught never to be a crybaby, and this was part of what you had to deal with – so I had to deal with it.”

And he did, for a while. But he grew to dislike the high-pressureatmosphere at the bank. “It was like being in a foreign environment – behind enemy lines every day,” he says.
Woodward eventually left the bank and took a job in a college budget office. Later, he became an insurance broker with New York Life Insurance Company. Despite the challenges, Woodward was building a successful career.

By the 1970s, when Basie became ill, Woodward would occasionally take a leave of absence from work to accompany the Count him on the road. “To a person who hasn’t done it, it sounds like some glamorous, wonderful, great, exciting scenario – and initially it is,” says Woodward, “but it’s far more complicated than that, especially when you’re looking out for someone.”  Nevertheless, it did have its perks. “When you have somebody of the magnitude of Count Basie, every time you turn around, there’s another person talking to him, and your mouth drops open,” he says. “It could be Joe Louis, Muhammad Ali, Bill Cosby, Stevie Wonder or Sean Connery. You want to act like, ‘Oh my gosh, it’s James Bond!’ But you can’t do that – you have to act like it’s normal.”

In 1983, Ma Basie, who had kept the books for her husband’s busy orchestra, died of a heart attack, and Basie needed someone to fill her shoes. “She had her eyes and ears on everything, so nothing would happen to him,” explains Woodward.  Valuing Woodward’s background in finance and management, and trusting him like his own son, Basie pressured him to step in. But for many reasons, Woodward was reluctant to do so. “First thing, I didn’t want him to feel like I was trying to sponge off of him,” he says. Moreover, Woodward was already a husband and father of two at the time, which would make all the necessary traveling difficult. But the Count knew there was only one man fit for the job. “To me, it was the highest compliment that’s ever been paid to me,” he says. “That he would consider me worthy to come in and assist him – watch his back.”

In May of 1983, Woodward assumed leadership of Count Basie Enterprises, easing the burden on Basie. “Nobody would come to him during the last year of his life,” he says. “He would have everyone and everything comethrough me.” In his intermediary role, Woodward strove to live up to his mentor’s example. Basie was a genius in dealing with human beings, says Woodward. “It was his highest quality, and that’s what made him special and unique in terms of bandleaders.”

Woodward admired him greatly for it, and studied his skills carefully; doing so, afforded him a crash course in the entertainment business. “And it’s not a normal business,” says Woodward. “Everybody is smiling at you, encouraging you on the surface, and everybody seems to be for you – but, my gosh, that’s not it.”   In fact, being an intermediary between Basie and his band members and clients won Woodward a fair share of resentment. Some of them had known Woodward since he was a child and did not like having to communicate through him. Woodward says this created discord within the family, and some people felt that he’d overstepped his bounds. “That wasn’t the case. I was doing what he told me to do,” he says, resolutely.  Finally, in April of 1984, Basie succumbed to pancreatic cancer.

From the time Woodward began working for Count Basie Enterprises up until Basie’s death, the adopted son had spent nearly every day by his side. He enjoyed many memorable moments throughout the course of his work for Count Basie Enterprises.However, one very special moment made an indelible impression on him: a 1985 lunch at the White House with President Ronald Reagan, and in the presence of Frank Sinatra, Jacques Cousteau, astronaut Chuck Yeager, among other notable guests. He was invited to receive, on behalf of the Count, a posthumous Presidential Medal of Freedom, American’s highest civilian honor.

“I was just amazed at meeting Ronald Reagan, and I was amazed at his ability to make me feel comfortable,” he says.  According to The New York Times, Woodward told hundreds of mourners at Basie’s funeral that Basie “would not want you to forget for one minute that [his orchestra] was the best on planet Earth.” In 2010, still faithfully running his adoptive father’s business, Woodward continues to convince audiences worldwide that his dad’s orchestra is still the best anywhere. Still making meaningful contributions to the world of Jazz with a 2011 tour schedule performing around the globe, the business continues going strong. “Above all, we want to keep the music true to the Basie way,” Woodward says.

Grateful for all the good that has been bestowed upon him – being blessed with the ability to maintain a successful business and keeping Count Basie’s legacy alive – Woodward feels there is more to his success than a big band, good music, and hard work. “I would not have been able to keep the Count Basie Enterprise going without the support of my wife, Joan, and my sons, Aaron IV, Alan, Darnel, and Kevin,” he says. “And, I would not be standing now if not for my relationship with Jesus,” he quickly adds.

< Prev		Next >