Annette John-Hall: The love we lost: Requiem for a voice of full-bodied passion
The music swelled, and the familiar opening chords of Teddy Pendergrass' sweet, sweet ballad, "You're My Latest, My Greatest Inspiration," rose to the rafters of Enon Tabernacle Baptist Church.
I said I wasn't going to cry. After all, I was there to cover the funeral of Pendergrass - who died Jan. 13 at 59 - not to mourn him. But when actor and R&B crooner Tyrese Gibson took the mic, sounding so much like Pendergrass, and clearly in pain over the death of the man he is slated to portray in a film, well, I lost it right there.
I've been so many places,
Seen so many things,
But none quite as lovely as you.
Suddenly, Gibson transported me from Enon and middle age back home to California, where it's the mid-'70s and I'm a teenager watching Soul Train on Saturday morning.
The Afroed dancers jam to "Bad Luck," a smokin' joint by a group that calls itself Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes. Only the lead singer isn't Harold Melvin.
The lead singer's name is Teddy Pendergrass.
Tall, dark, and handsome
No disrespect to the group's founder, but Melvin was older and mousy looking, his voice more lounge singer than soul singer.
But the lead singer? Just wow! Young, tall, dark, and handsome, with a soulful, gospel-tinged baritone that came straight out of church.
Pendergrass had a rare talent that impressed men and made women go weak. His gritty sound and sensual showmanship made him a perfect match for the orchestral beauty and soulfulness of the Sound of Philadelphia.
"Please," I remember telling my sister. "They need to call themselves Teddy Pendergrass and the Blue Notes."
Well, Pendergrass went one better. He went solo. He became just Teddy or T.P. or, as we female admirers liked to call him, Teddy Bear.
I saw him at the Circle Star Theater in San Carlos, Calif., during one of his "Ladies Only" concerts in the early '80s.
He'd get up, get down, get funky, get loose, rip off his sweaty shirt, and the heat seemed to just rise off of him like steam.
Plenty of women will tell you their children were conceived to Teddy's boudoir ballads - "Close the Door," "Turn Off the Lights," "Love T.K.O."
But truthfully, Teddy could have sung the phone book and sold millions of records, that's the kind of raw, full-throttle sex appeal he had.
And such was the intimate power of his music.
