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288 pages, Hardcover
Expected publication February 24, 2026
My mother, Ophelia Kemp, was a force to be reckoned with. She was a young, pretty girl when my father spotted and claimed her. Out of necessity and choice, she grew into a formidable woman who didn’t let the tenor of the times stop her from carving out a life on her own terms. She sought to be a faithful follower in the church led by Detroit’s legendary Prophet Jones. But she would eventually establish her own church and garner a following of believers who respected and recognized her gifts as faith based. She was a business leader and a clairvoyant. People would stand in line for hours to get a spiritual reading from her.
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I think Mom was so young, she thought she needed someone to take care of her, especially now with three children. She met a man named Chester Rentie. He was known as the mayor of Paradise Valley in Detroit, Michigan. Chester was a booking agent for talent, and he once managed jazz vocalist Betty Carter. He told my mother she could do better if she moved to Detroit. Mom needed a new start and agreed to move to Detroit, where Chester helped her get a nice house.
After Joey was born, I landed a job as a switchboard operator at the Gotham Hotel. It was Black-owned and was a hot spot for Black millionaires and Black entrepreneurs. I remember there was a gift shop with fancy jewelry that I loved. The nine-story, two-hundred-room hotel sat at 111 Orchestra Place and had a fancy restaurant, a great brunch, and an all-girls jazz band. I would later emulate that at my jazz club, Marla’s Memory Lane.
Buddy gave me two black eyes during another pregnancy, and I found the courage to leave, so I went to an attorney. He took me to a judge, who asked me how long I’d been married, and I told him, “Four years.” He replied, “Then you ought to know how not to push his buttons.” The attorney was very disappointed, and so was I. People often ask why women stay in abusive relationships. It’s hard to go when you’re broken. Add to that the time I came up in, when women were still considered property and had few rights. Leaving seemed damn near impossible.
Horace Tapscott was my friend. His talent was undeniable, and he traveled the globe, playing the piano where his music was honored and lauded. He was most proud of the mentorship he created with the young, upcoming jazz musicians...
In its heyday, the Vision served as a hub of sorts. The Nation of Islam minister Louis Farrakhan held a rally there to drum up support for the 1995 Million Man March. Hillary Rodham Clinton campaigned there. Poet Maya Angelou had a reading there, and a renowned healer conducted a wellness seminar at the Vision Theatre. We were also proud to premier Lily in Winter, starring Natalie Cole, along with Jim Pickens Jr., Rae’Ven Larrymore Kelly, Salli Richardson, and me. The Josephine Baker Story was another film we premiered, starring Lynn Whitfield, along with Louis Gossett Jr., and Kene Holiday. It was great to premiere films starring Black actors in a Black community when our images were so often marginalized or nonexistent. It was important to me to create a venue where we could celebrate our work.
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I ran into Larry Hearns, who owned the Memory Lane, an established and popular venue. His place featured performers such as Nat King Cole, Dinah Washington, Little Esther, and Lorez Alexandria. I told him what I wanted to do, and he talked me into buying his club. I loved the idea of carrying that tradition over into what I called Marla’s Memory Lane. The central idea was to showcase local jazz musicians. The Los Angeles scene was rich in those days; the national and world scenes were too, of course.
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The great Dizzy Gillespie. Etta James and Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson recorded their Grammy-nominated album Blues In the Night, Vol. 1: The Early Show live at Marla’s Memory Lane.
My daughter introduced me and the family to the world-renowned herbalist Dr. Sebi. He was one of the brilliant people that I’ve been blessed to know, and he helped me take care of my health. Chile, at his recommendation, my sister Susie and I took some mushrooms.
Most people do not survive brain aneurysms, so I knew God still had plans for me. The more my strength and memory came back, the more trouble I got into. I’m a Gemini, and my mind is always curious and always working . . .