Sam Evans, Philly titan for 7 decades, dies at 105

JAMES ROBB was a new kid in town back in the early '70s, a Navy vet and graduate of Temple University's College of Music, and he wanted to do something in the city's musical world.

Somebody suggested he go see Sam Evans. He did, and was impressed by Evans' graciousness and willingness to spend time with him.

"He told me to find my place in the city," Robb said. "Find something that other people are not doing."

Robb followed the advice and wound up founding the Performing Arts Society shortly after that meeting.

Sam Evans, who knew something about bringing music talent to Philadelphia, let Robb have his mailing list and was otherwise supportive.

Samuel L. Evans, the iconic leader of the city's entertainment, political and civil-rights spheres for some seven decades, died Friday. He was 105.

"He was one of those people you thought was always going to be there," Robb said.

Evans was perhaps best known as an impresario, one who had a talent for bringing many celebrated musicians here to perform in the "Coffee Concerts," featuring chamber music, which he ran at the Academy of Music and other venues in the '50s and '60s.

He also brought political and civil-rights leaders here, including the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., whom he booked into local theaters and halls.

Evans was a bright, sturdy and healthy-looking figure until recent months, standing more than 6 feet and as commanding as ever.

Robb saw him last September when Evans was auctioning off some of his art and antiques collection at an auction house in Kensington.

"He looked very well," Robb said. "He was standing straight up, and his mind was clear."

It would be difficult to think of a celebrity from government, politics or civil rights that Sam had not encountered over the years.

Albert Einstein even once suggested he do something about a slight speech impediment.

His support for a political candidate in the city ensured a large turnout of voters, especially from the African-American community where his voice rang loud and clear.

After his death, many political leaders hailed his legacy.

"So many of us have stood on his shoulders and gotten an education in politics, government and other areas," Mayor Nutter said in a statement. "He was a voice for the voiceless and a role model."

"Sam Evans was a legend in this city for close to seven decades," said former Mayor W. Wilson Goode. "He was a passionate advocate for young people."

Hundreds of youths went to college as a direct result of the mentoring program he developed through his American Foundation for Negro Affairs.

Nutter was among those who benefitted from the AFNA programs, which he came in contact with in high school.

State Rep. Dwight Evans, D-Phila., called Evans "a trailblazer for Philadelphia and the African-American community."

Lorraine Poole-Naranjo, a longtime friend of Esther King, Evans' associate for half a century, recalled that she first met Evans when he brought an opera star from his Coffee Concerts to William Penn High, where she was a student.

"He knew how to put things together," she said. "He was a very interesting person with a lot of gifts. He was at home in the African-American community and on the Main Line. His genius just poured out."

Esther S. Barnett, former chairwoman of the Pennsylvania Civil Rights Commission and longtime Evans friend, said, "He was compassionate, but he knew when to be firm, to be business-like. He was a great leader, a great motivator.

"He cared about people. People would come to his office and he would hand them five dollars, 10 dollars, and after they left, he'd turn to us and say, 'Can anyone lend me some money?' "

She said Sam knew how to take care of himself. Moderation was the key. Every night before dinner, he would have a Manhattan cocktail made with Old Grandad bourbon. "And he never had more than one," she said.

Sam and Esther King operated out of a small office at 17th and Sansom streets. The walls were covered with the paintings he collected over the years, mostly by African-American artists, as well as statues and photos of celebrities with whom he met.

King died in 2000 at the age of 94.

Evans might be one of a very few Americans who fought the Nazis in his own backyard. In the '30s, as the Nazis were gaining power in Germany, a group called the bund met in a hall in North Philadelphia.

Evans and others were arrested for demonstrating against the Nazis. But the demonstrators succeeded in ending the meetings.

"We Americans would rather ride in an ox cart or a covered wagon in a democracy than in a Rolls-Royce driven by a dictator," he said in a letter to the Daily News in 2002.

Evans grew up on a tenant farm in Florida, where he started working in the fields at the age of 6. He said he saw five lynchings before he turned 9, and that education for a black kid in the Jim Crow South was "as far from us as a castle in Spain."

After various menial jobs, including deck hand on a freighter, he came North. He lived briefly in New York City before coming to Philadelphia and landing a job at Midvale Steel, making $8 a day.

He heard classical music for the first time when he became a janitor at a piano store at 12th and Chestnut streets. He was hooked.

He began his community activities in the late '30s when he founded Youth City, an anti-violence organization in North Philadelphia.

Politically, he started out as a Democrat, switched to Republican, then back to Democrat in the '60s.

His first government job was as Philadelphia coordinator for black activities in the U.S. Office of Civilian Defense's physical-fitness program.

During his Republican period, he was appointed secretary of the state Athletic Commission. As a Democrat, he ran the city campaign for Lyndon Johnson.

Evans' wife, Edna Hoye, whom he married in 1926, died in 1988. He is survived by a daughter, Retha B. Kelley; 10 grandchildren and 22 great-grandchildren.

Services: Arrangements were being made. *