Ten years before my addiction, I had been warned by a celebrity

by Ron Alexander

In the mid-1970s, I was a 27-year-old aspiring journalist and writer working for a local newspaper in Philadelphia. I frequently interviewed black performers for my weekly column, Celebrity Beat.

My column allowed me to wine and dine with a date at glamorous casinos in Atlantic City. I had interviewed megastars such as Dianna Ross, Johnny Mathis, and Grover Washintonj Jr, but I was ill-prepared for my interview with an usual entertainer.

On a warm night in August, I drove from Philly to the Taj Mahal casino to interview George Kirby, who was opening for Sammy Davis Jr. A bebop piano player, Kirby did song and vocal impressions of jazz greats Louis Armstrong, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, and Joe Williams.

Sammy Davis gave a rousing performance, but Kirby’s performance lifted me out of my seat and elicited multiple standing ovations from the audience. I was anxious to interview the guy who did an authentic impression of Jazz singer Sara Vaughn. that brought the house down.

Following the show, I sat down with him in his dressing room. So many questions circled in my mind, so I blurted out, “What is the biggest achievement in your life?”

“Kicking drugs.”

I paused and looked at him questionably, not understanding what he meant.

“Man,” he said, “I was addicted to heroin for years. I tried for years to kick it, but I couldn’t. I kicked the habit after going to prison. I did three hard years.”

“Wow,” I managed to say. The topics of drugs and prison linked together are something I didn’t expect to hear. The interview was supposed to be about music, not heroin.

“Look, man, you probably don’t want me to talk drugs and prison, but I got to talk about it.”

He was right. I couldn’t relate. I knew nothing about shooting heroin, being a junkie, serving prison time. To hide my ignorance, I let him talk.

“I’ve been through some rough years, always chasing my habit, looking for a dealer wherever I was performing, trying to hide my habit from my wife, my friends, and family. Then I got busted. The cops said I was selling the stuff, but junkies don’t sell the shit, they shoot it, man, they don’t sell it!” ?

Kirby’s passion and sincerity were stunning--mesmerizing, although I wasn’t able to connect emotionally with what he was talking about. I had only smoked weed. I knew nothing about drug addiction.

“After doing my time, I warned kids about using drugs. I don’t have kids of my own, but I feel a responsibility to do my part in keeping kids off drugs. I promised God if he cleaned me up, I would spend the rest of my life warning anyone that would listen that drugs only fuck up your life and you go to jail.”

Sadly, George Kiby on September 30, 1995, died of Parkinson's disease at a nursing home in Las Vegas.

My cocaine addiction began in 1985, ten years after interviewing him in 1975. He warned me. I didn’t listen.

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