I'll be there.

My "same-day up & back" flights are booked.

Ticket booked. Flying in to JFK by 7:30am Saturday morning, and leaving Monday morning 10am.

Old NYC friends (and Mathis), I'll be checking in via Facebook/email to see if any of you can host me Sat and Sun nights.

I'll be there.

We will attend the funeral.

Wow, that sounds amazing.

There in spirit...

Quoted from "Effervescent"
Will be in atten-dance (freeze...dance)! -Eff

My favorite was when Franky would say "FREEZE!....Now do the Robot!"

Yes, it really was a moving service and it was so amazing to see the community of swing dancers together. I'm still getting chocked up thinking about it. I wish that I could have stayed at the Repast longer :(

Very moving, very touching day. Beautiful church, Rev. Butts did a great job. Wonderful speeches by Elliott, George Gee, Mickey Douglas, Margaret, Alvin Ailey folks, Frankie's Granddaughter...et al... ...and BRAVO, HRO!

John and Dawn swingin' the center aisle was by far the best dance I've ever witnessed.

Home. Missing Frankie, and all you guys, big time right now.

-Eff

So sorry to have missed it.

So many stories, pieces of the puzzle revealed.

Thanks to the family of Frankie Manning for hosting the funeral and repast. It was a joyful celebration, and a thought provoking experience. Reverend Calvin Butts is considering learning how to Lindy Hop!

Then there was Splanky

I'm sure Frankie's funeral will be the most memorable I will ever attend. The Presbyterian church in Harlem was packed with people of various nationalities, ages, colors. A 12-piece big band was set up on the altar behind the coffin -- his favorite, the Harlem Renaissance Orchestra.

Frankie lay in a black coffin with a white lining at the foot of the altar, his wide mouth, seemingly always smiling in life, now closed in a perpetual frown. His animated body still. Family, friends, musicians, dancers filled the pews - Old Skoolers with their kids, dancers who had flown in from England, Tokyo, Sweden, California, relatively new dancers such as myself who had never or only very briefly met him.

The orchestra played between remembrances by various friends, including his former partner Norma Miller, now 90 herself. Dawn Hampton was there. George Gee. Margaret Batiuchok ("Margarita how ya feeta" he once said to her after she broke her foot.) His son Chazz. Savion Glover. Visitors from Sweden. His companion Judy Pritchett. Phil Schapp did Phil Schapp.

Dancing broke out from time to time in the aisles. Joyous moments alternated with solemn. There was applause, for the musicians, for the speakers. Erin Stevens poignantly recounted how when she and Steven Mitchell looked Frankie up in the phone book 30 or so years after his first swing dancing career had ended and asked, "Is this Frankie Mannning the swing dancer?" he replied, "No, this is Frankie Manning the postal worker. I used to be Frankie Manning the swing dancer." Phil Schapp said he was very shy and retiring in those days, not the fun-loving figure people around the world would come to know.

During a final rendition of Shiny Stockings, the coffin was closed. The bier was rolled up the aisle. Clusters of people stood outside the church, hugging, calling on cell phones, arranging rides.

Then the drive to Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. A glorious Spring day. Dogwood and wisteria in bloom. Lenticular clouds. A military honor guard, a flag on the coffin, a bugler on the brow of the hill, facing away, playing taps. The careful choreographed movements of the honor guard as they folded up the flag, like a precious bedsheet.

The family, one by one, placing a flower on the coffin. Single carnations, roses, sprigs of lilac, a spray of orchids, all lined up in a neat row on the coffin lid like so many dancers waiting to do the shim sham. Freeze, dance. The friends, one by one, doing the same, or simply touching the coffin for want of a flower. Several neighboring trees and shrubs were relieved of some sprigs, but the cluster of dandelions at the foot of the coffin survived. I suspect, although I didn't know him personally, that Frankie would have appreciated a dandelion. A simple man. A genius. A shy man. A gregarious man.

A breeze. Did Frankie's soul leave the earth at that moment? In the patient silence, someone started singing "Amazing Grace." Then another, and another, and several more. The cemetery workers came to do their honest work, matter-of-factly but respectfully. Lowering the coffin on the straps. Removing the straps - one got caught. Flipping the lid of the sarcophagus closed. It shut with a hollow sound.

The mourners turning and leaving, in small groups, one by one. Hugging, chatting, making plans. Life flowing along implacably, leaving Frankie on the shore.

Thank you zabette for posting such a detailed description for all our friends who could not attend. I agree with everyone there that there could have been a more fitting and wonderful funeral.

I know we're all supposed to move on, but honestly, it's going to be pretty hard to move past losing one of the few living men who has personally woven threads into the fabric of America itself.

As a several generation veteran and patriot, and as a third generation swing dancer married to another swing dancer, all I have to say is ...

Thank you Frankie. Rest in peace.

Tony Fraser

What an amazing celebration of a great dancer and an even greater human being. I'm booking HRO to play for my funeral, and George Gee at the repast! Wow, what fabulous music that Frankie loved so much.

Thanks Lana for putting this whole thing together. I bow to your organizational acumen and exceptional service to the Frankie family and larger community that has grown up around him.

My detailed recollections of the day and videos from Frankie's funeral here: http://tinyurl.com/c3fp8o .