The Ravens existed to showcase the incredible bass of Jimmy "Ricky" Ricks, the fifth voice that I consider vital for the understanding of Rhythm and Blues. The others are: Bill Kenny (the Ink Spots), Sonny Til (the Orioles), Clyde McPhatter (Dominoes), and Frankie Lymon (Teenagers). The unique thing about the Ravens, was that they featured a bass lead. And what a bass! (I was surprised to find out that Ezio Pinza, of "South Pacific" fame, was an operatic basso profundo; next to Jimmy Ricks, he sounds like a tenor.) Ricks, and Ricks alone, was to influence an entire generation of aspiring bass singers; it's as simple as that.

This is not to slight the other members of the group (such as Maithe Marshall, Joe Van Loan, Leonard Puzey, Warren Suttles, Louis Heyward, and Jimmie Steward), all of whom had excellent voices, and were hired for that reason alone. But when it comes down to it, the Ravens are remembered for Jimmy Ricks. The Ravens' material isn't difficult to classify; it was anything that they could sing: R&B ballads, R&B uptempo, Pop standards (done as Pop), Pop standards (done as R&B), novelty numbers. You name it, they tried it. And they were generally superb. And the fans loved it. This will be an attempt at synthesizing all the many articles that have been written over the years about the Ravens and their various personnel.

James Thomas Ricks (known as "JT" to his family and "Ricky" to the rest of the world) was born in 1924 in Adrian, Georgia, a small town of fewer than 600 people, between Macon and Savannah. However, his mother, Eula Mae (who was 14 at the time and is still alive in 2004), went to Florida in order to get a better job; he was raised by his father's brother, Luther, until moving to Jacksonville when he was around 13.

Here are some insights into the early days of Jimmy Ricks, as told by his cousin Jeannette Smith.

Daddy [Jimmy's Uncle, Luther] used to say, “that boy went up north and made something out of himself. I never thought that he would.” The reason Daddy said that was because JT never liked to work in the fields. During the summers he had to crop tobacco and around September he had to pick cotton. The way that the family made the days pass quickly and not to think so much of how hard the work was, they would all sing in the fields. Mama [his Aunt Mamie] sang mezzo soprano, Walter [a cousin] and Daddy sang tenor and JT always had this very deep voice. Daddy had a good ear for music so he taught them how to blend their voices.

On Sunday mornings he had to attend the Adrian Chapel C.M.E. church and sing in the choir. Everyone at the church wanted to hear JT lead the song “Ride The Chariot In The Morning, Lord.” It had a bass lead.

The family was quite talented and still is. There are still family members who sing today, but have never tried to get into show business, including myself.... There were so many of his relatives who can sing that I cannot name them all. It wasn't that they could just sing, but the family seems to just know how to blend their voices in perfect harmony. After JT moved to Jacksonville, I don't think that he thought much of his singing ability except for his own enjoyment. He went to New York just to escape the South. As for his voice, he had this range where he could go to tenor or sing the deepest bass. I guess it was just a God-given thing.

At some point he relocated to New York City, and there embarked upon his singing career. In 1945 he was working as a waiter at the Four Hundred Tavern (on 148th Street and St. Nicholas, in Harlem), and belonged to a group called the Melodeers, whose lead was Herb Kenny. In the Spring of 1945, the Melodeers had secured an engagement at the Plantation Club in St. Louis. Herb went to say goodbye to his brother Bill (lead of the Ink Spots), who, that day, happened to be auditioning singers to fill the "talking bass" spot recently vacated by Cliff Givens. Herb heard someone trying out, approached him, and suggested improvements. Everyone listening realized that Herb could do it better than any of the hopefuls, and he was persuaded to join the Ink Spots. (As Herb put it, he "gave up singing" to join them.) While Herb now had full-time lucrative employment, the rest of the Melodeers were out of a job.

It was at the Four Hundred Tavern where Ricks met Warren "Birdland" Suttles. (He picked up the "Birdland" tag in the 60s by wearing a "Birdland" shirt when playing softball.) The two of them found a shared interest in singing, spending lots of time harmonizing along with tunes on the jukebox (especially those of the Delta Rhythm Boys). They next worked at the L-Bar, at which time they decided to form a group. Ricks, whose inspiration was the Delta Rhythm Boys' Lee Gaines, had a bass voice that had depth and breadth and any other quality that you could name; it was a natural winner (his range, according to Warren, was three octaves).

Warren Suttles was a baritone, and, as such, kept the group's harmony together. He was originally from Fairfield, Alabama, right outside Birmingham. It was a steel manufacturing town, but Warren remembers mostly prejudice, pure and simple. That's what drove him to abandon Alabama, and when he was discharged from the Army, he came to New York to seek his fortune. He enjoyed playing baseball and had an uncle in New York (George "Mule" Suttles, one of the powerhouses of the Negro Leagues) who had managed the Newark Eagles. By the time Warren hit New York, however, Mule was managing a bar. Warren fortunately turned to music.

Raven number three was Leonard "Zeke" Puzey, a second tenor, who had won first prize at a Wednesday night Apollo Theater amateur show. Jimmy Edwards, an agent for the Evans Booking Agency, contacted him and introduced him to Ricks and Suttles. (The nickname "Zeke" came from his love of baseball as a kid. He played first base, and the first baseman for the Giants in the late 30s was Zeke "Bananas" Bonura; the other kids started calling him "Zeke" too.)

They started practicing "Darktown Strutters' Ball" and "Darktown Poker Club" (a song popularized by Phil Harris); Warren did the piano work and the arranging. Then a fourth member was added: Henry Oliver "Ollie" Jones, also a second tenor and also recommended by the Evans agency. The Ravens were ready to spread their wings (to coin a phrase). At this point they added a song written by Ollie to their repertoire: "Lullaby".

Enter Ben Bart. In 1945, while treasurer of the Gale Agency (which managed the Ink Spots), Bart had set up the Hub Recording Company. The next year, he broke with Gale and formed Universal Attractions (with Harry Lenetzka) and managed to secure the Ink Spots too. In 1946, the Ravens hooked up with Bart, through the efforts of vocal coach Joe Thomas. Bart became their manager and, since they lacked arrangements and couldn't read music, he decided that they could do with an accompanist; Joe Thomas came through once again, suggesting pianist/arranger Howard Biggs. The last "member" was road manager Nat Margo.

The Ravens began their prolific recording career in June 1946, with a single six-tune session: "Honey" and "Bye Bye Baby Blues" are led by Ricky, "Lullaby", "My Sugar Is So Refined" and "Once And For All" are fronted by Leonard, and "Out Of A Dream" features the alternating leads of Ricky and Ollie. That same month, Bart released all the tunes simultaneously on his Hub label, and the Ravens were on their way!

For some reason, they left out the very first stanza to "My Sugar Is So Refined" (a 1946 hit for Johnny Mercer). As long as you're interested, it goes: "She doesn't wear a hat/ She wears a chapeau/ She goes to see a cinema/ But never a show".

The first engagement by the fledgling group was at Harlem's Baby Grand. They also played the Baron (at 132nd and Lenox Avenue) and the Club 845 (in the Bronx).

Public reaction to the Hub songs was overwhelming, however the reaction to the recordings was minimal. That is, they were big jukebox hits, but never really sold in stores, if for no other reason than that Bart had no distribution. While it's nice to have fans, sometimes they could get out of hand. At one appearance, with bandleader Illinois Jacquet, someone in the audience was insistent that they sing "Lullaby". When they sang something else, the man started firing a gun (fortunately in the air).

On October 29, 1946, they appeared on the brand-new Arthur Godfrey Talent Scouts Show on CBS radio (it had only been on about four months). They were supposedly brought there by William Jones, who had recently relocated to New York from Seattle and had seen them perform at Club Baron on his “first night in New York.” “William Jones” was probably an employee of either Hub Records or Universal Booking. (Unfortunately, neither Warren Suttles nor Leonard Puzey remembered who brought them up there.) The Ravens sang “My Sugar Is So Refined,” but lost to a blind soprano (as the Orioles would lose to blind pianist George Shearing in two years' time). [The very next week, Browley Guy appeared, losing out to a comedienne.]

The biggest break of their early career came on December 6, 1946, when they played a benefit show at the Apollo. How do you follow Stan Kenton and Nat "King" Cole? It isn't easy, and they were scared. Their first song was "My Sugar Is So Refined". Leonard did the lead, up to "And you should see/ How she holds a cup of tea" at which point Ricks' first booming bass line ("With just two fingers/ While she sticks out three") brought down the house; they ended up singing half a dozen numbers. They did so well that they were invited back a few weeks later (along with Sy Oliver's band), at which time they repeated their crowd-pleasing performance.

Howard Biggs had a problem with Ollie Jones, though. Ollie's voice wasn't strong enough, and Biggs didn't like the way he blended in with the rest of the group. There was no animosity about it; Ollie wasn't "fired". He was simply told that the Ravens would continue using him until they found a first tenor who could fit in better.

And who would that first tenor be? Ricks came across a bartender (another Floridian) named Maithe Williams (who called himself Maithe Marshall). Maithe had a soaring tenor, which was just what the Ravens were looking for. He was already a professional singer, having been in the ensemble of the original Broadway production of "Carmen Jones" (which ran from December 2, 1943 to February 10, 1945). Around January 1947, Maithe replaced Ollie. Don't think that Ollie was left out in the cold, however, he went on to form the Blenders, and maintained a friendship with the Ravens. In 1948, he was thinking of hiring bass James DeLoach, and had him audition for Ricks. Ricks even took the Blenders to see Al Green, president of National Records (for whom the Ravens were recording at the time); Green ended up giving them a contract. Finally, since the Ravens had more work than they could handle, Ricks made sure some of it was passed on to the Blenders. Ollie Jones would also be a founding member of the Cues and a successful songwriter (he wrote Nat "King" Cole's "Send For Me").

When Maithe came in, they re-recorded all their Hub tunes for Ben Bart; Leonard, however, doesn't remember just why. Warren feels that it was because it was now a "different sound". Bart, however, kept them in the can (for a while).

In February 1947, the Ravens were voted "Best New Singing Group of the Year" by the listeners of the Symphony Sid "After Hours" radio show (co-hosted by Ray Carroll, who would soon team up with Willie Bryant). Sid presented them with an award on his WHOM (NY) show. This is proof that people were listening to their Hub recordings.

Possibly as a result of this, in early 1947, Bart signed the Ravens with National Records. While they were appearing with Cab Calloway at Broadway's Strand, they recorded their first four sides for National, in a split session on April 23 and 24: "Mahzel", "Ol' Man River", "For You", and "Would You Believe Me".

I heard a story many years ago from a recording engineer; it may be apocryphal. The Delta Rhythm Boys had a bass (Lee Gaines) that was supposedly the deepest in the business. However, they recorded for Victor, the industry leader. Gaines was told that he couldn't sing as low as he was able, because it would cause the resulting records (78s, naturally) to be cut with wider grooves. This would make the needle bounce around a bit in the grooves and the record would wear out faster than normal. Victor wouldn't allow this, because they prided themselves on a quality product. National, however, had no such scruples; Ricks was allowed to sing as low as he wanted. The result? It was Ricks, not Gaines, who became the bass everyone else looked up to (although Gaines was Ricks' idol).

Although they were beginning to pick up a following at clubs and theaters, their first National release, issued in April, only days after it was recorded, wasn't a hit. This was the oddball "Mahzel" (Yiddish for "luck"), with Leonard, Ricky and Maithe sharing lead, backed with "For You" (featuring Ricky). The writers of "Mahzel" (Artie Wayne and Jack Beekman) came to a Ravens' rehearsal with the song; Biggs started playing around with it and worked out an arrangement. They all thought it was "cute". Why, however, would two writers of an essentially Jewish song show up at the doorstep of a black R&B group with it? The only reason I can think of is that they were friends of Al Green and he wanted something different as the first Ravens release; we'll probably never know. "For You", written by Al Dubin and Joseph Burke in 1930, was the first of many Pop standards to be recorded by the Ravens.

Note that at National they worked with three great a&r men: Bobby Shad, Lee Magid and Jerry Blaine, each of whom would later start his own label.

The next release, in June, was a natural for Ricks: Oscar Hammerstein and Jerome Kern's 1927 masterpiece, "Ol' Man River" (backed with Maithe's first stunning ballad, "Would You Believe Me"). "Ol' Man River" became the Ravens' first chart hit, rising to #10 (R&B). October saw two Ricks-led tunes: "Write Me A Letter" and "Summertime" (by DuBose Heyward and George Gershwin, from 1935's "Porgy And Bess"). "Letter" was such a big hit (#5 R&B), that it crossed over to the Pop charts, peaking at #24. However, the charts aren't enough to tell the story of the Ravens' huge popularity: most of their audience heard them on juke boxes and radios.

July found the Ravens into some antics. Taking advantage of the new "flying saucer" craze, the Ravens were almost arrested for sailing copies of "Ol' Man River" off NY's George Washington Bridge into the Hudson River. While Leonard confirms that the event took place, the article went on to say that the only thing that saved the Ravens from being hustled off to jail was the timely intervention of Herb Abramson (of National Records, before he hooked up with Atlantic) and Ben Bart. Abramson was quick to take the blame, calling it just a publicity stunt. Of course, the Ravens had to sing for the police to establish their identity beyond question. (I don't know about you, but I take great delight in these concocted press agents' releases).

Sometime prior to October, the Ravens had their next session. There are eight sequential masters, but no specific dates. Since double sessions are rare, we can assume they were done on two consecutive days. There was "Write Me A Letter," "Summertime," "Until The Real Thing Comes Along," "September Song," "Always," "Once In A While," "I Don't Know Why I Love You Like I Do," and "Searching For Love."

Ricks was in the news again in October, when it was reported that he and thrush Hadda Brooks were engaged. According to Leonard, they lived together for a while, but never married. This sounds like an elaborate cover-up to hide the affair that Hadda was having with Jules Bihari, the married owner of Modern Records. November found the Ravens playing the Club Bengazi in Washington, D.C., while announcing plans for an eight-week engagement at London's Casino the following April. However, Leonard says, as with Ricks' marriage, the trip never materialized.

December found National issuing two records: a re-release of "For You" (Ricky) backed with "Searching For Love" (Maithe) and "Fool That I Am" (Maithe and Ricky) backed with one of my favorites, "Be I Bumble Bee Or Not" (Leonard and Ricky). Neither made the charts, but both were solid jukebox hits.

The next session was held on December 22, 1947 (and possibly continued on the 23rd, since, again, there are eight songs involved). This time they laid down: "Rooster," "Be I Bumblebee Or Not," "I'm Afraid Of You," "Always" (a second try, the first one would end up being issued), "Fool That I Am," "Together," "Send For Me If You Need Me," "There's No You," and "How Could I Know."

In January 1948, if you had 50¢, you could see the Ravens at Newark's Adams Theater, along with the Andy Kirk Orchestra and Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson. The Ravens sang "Be I Bumble Bee Or Not", "Fool That I Am", "Summertime" and "Ol' Man River".

In February, National released another of my favorites: the beautiful Ricks-led ballad "There's No You", backed with "Together" (Ricky and Maithe). "Together" had been written in 1928 by Bud De Sylva, Lew Brown, and Ray Henderson. Later that month, they appeared at the Powelton Cafe in West Philadelphia. Then it was on to Chicago's Regal Theater, along with Eddie Vinson and the George Hudson Orchestra.

Sometime in early 1948, the Ravens recorded three a cappella demos, which, for some reason, National saw fit to assign master numbers to: "Sylvia," "The House I Live In," and "Rickey's Blues." Since they've been preserved and issued on a Savoy release, it's possible to hear the evolution of a song. "The House I Live In," especially, shows that it needs a lot more work.

In May, National came out with "Until The Real Thing Comes Along"/"Send For Me If You Need Me", both Ricks-led. "Send" was a jump tune in the vein of "Write Me A Letter", and presumably pleased the fans, although it didn't chart. At the time, the Ravens were on a tour of the South.

In June 1948, probably as a result of Ben Bart's split-up with Harry Lenetzka (which had occurred back in February), Hub sold all its 1946 and 1947 Ravens masters to King Records (that is, both the original Hub releases with Ollie and the re-recorded tracks with Maithe). With the Ravens as popular as they were on National, King tried to stretch the Hub masters as far as they'd go. The first release, in August, was a two-sider ("Bye Bye Baby Blues"/"Once And For All" - these were were the original Hub cuts). This time "Bye Bye Baby Blues" was snapped up by Ravens fans, pushing it to #8 on the R&B charts. All subsequent releases featured the Ravens on one side and the instrumental stylings of the 3 Clouds on the other. The rest of the releases were: "Out Of A Dream" (the re-recorded version, with Maithe) in November 1948, "Honey" (also a re-recorded version) in January 1949, and "My Sugar Is So Refined" (another re-recorded version: Leonard's was the first voice heard on the Hub cut; Ricks starts off on King) in May 1949. (Presumably "Lullaby" was sold too, but if so, King never released it.)

June found the Ravens doing a week-long engagement at the Million Dollar Theater in Los Angeles. On June 15, they appeared on an ABC (radio) program called “It's Dream Time” (a 15-minute show with the tag line “music of yesterday and today); they sang "Ol' Man River".

Somehow they found time, in July, to purchase the contract of a prizefighter: welterweight Woody Wilson. Along the way, the Ravens had been incorporated into "Ravens Singers, Inc.", and it was this entity which now owned Wilson. Actually, it was Ben Bart who engineered the deal, having always wanted to manage a fighter.

Also in July, National released the Ravens' version of the 1938 classic by Maxwell Anderson and Kurt Weill: "September Song" (Maithe). It was backed with another oldie, 1937's Bud Green and Michael Edwards opus, "Once In A While" (Ricky).

Mid-September found them at the Club Bali (D.C.) for a two-week stint, and then, because there was so much work for them, Ben Bart made a deal with the William Morris Agency to book the Ravens in the West (Universal Attractions would continue to book them in the East). About this time there was another session, in which they covered the Orioles' smash hit "It's Too Soon To Know," and laid down "Be On Your Merry Way" and the beautiful "The House I Live In" (they'd practiced this a lot since the a cappella demo they'd done six months before, but it still wasn't perfect; the released version was finally recorded in January of 1949).

When “September Song” failed to take off, National released “Be On Your Merry Way” (Ricky), which climbed to #13 (R&B). The flip was "It's Too Soon To Know" (Maithe and Ricky), one of the dozen or so covers of the first Orioles recording . The Ravens' rendition went to #11 on the R&B charts, not nearly as big a hit as the original.

Around September, Warren Suttles left the Ravens for the first time. This was during the time that the Ravens' books were being audited (since they weren't getting enough money to live on, they hired an accountant to investigate why). Warren was replaced by Joe Medlin, who had been a soloist for years, but wasn't really known outside of the Harlem club scene. In October, Maithe also quit, and Richie Cannon was hired in his place. Cannon was from Birmingham, Alabama, where he had sung in the choir, both in High School and at Tuskegee Institute. He had then gone on to be a winner on the Arthur Godfrey Talent Scouts show. Howard Biggs did the auditions for both Joe and Richie, recommending to management that they be hired.

Therefore, in the fall of 1948, the Ravens were: Richie Cannon, Leonard Puzey, Joe Medlin, Jimmy Ricks, and Howard Biggs. This arrangement only lasted a short time. Joe Medlin's voice was good for solo work, but didn't blend well with the group; in November he left to resume work on his solo career. Maithe returned, just in time for a November tour that took them to St. Louis, and Richie Cannon was shifted down to baritone. While there, they recorded "Silent Night" (Maithe and Ricky) and Irving Berlin's 1942 Yuletide classic, "White Christmas" (Ricky and Maithe). When they had begun practicing the arrangements, Richie Cannon was doing the lead, but the voice we hear on the recordings is Maithe's. Another name associated with the Ravens during this period was Bubba Richie, a relative of Ricks, and the group's valet and driver. Since he could sing tenor, they let him perform with them a couple of times. However, he wasn't a strong tenor and never recorded with the Ravens.

In October, National put out "How Could I Know" (Maithe and Ricky)/"I Don't Know Why I Love You Like I Do" (Ricky), a beautiful pair of ballads. ("I Don't Know Why" had been written in 1931, by Roy Turk and Fred Ahlert.) Also in October, the Ravens purchased 1500 copies of "Silent Night" and sold them in the lobby of the Apollo Theater as a way of raising money for the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund. This record became a perennial seller for the Ravens, issued on various labels throughout the years. In 1948, however, "Silent Night" rose to #8 (R&B), slightly edging out "White Christmas", which peaked at #9. The latter song was a direct influence on Clyde McPhatter and the Drifters' version.

Sometime in 1948 (probably) the Ravens did a radio commercial for that wonderful new soft drink, "Joe Louis Punch". Put together by Warren, it went something like: "Ain't no punch like Joe Louis Punch". The intro to the song was the same as that to "Ol' Man River".

In December, National put out the Irving Berlin tune "Always" (Ricky and Maithe)/"Rooster" (mostly Ricky, with the others talking). "Rooster", a novelty, was different from anything the Ravens had done since "Mahzel". It's the story of a lazy hayseed farmer, his children, and his rooster. With the speakers stepping on each other's lines (as if they hadn't bothered to rehearse), it wasn't the Ravens at their top form.

The Ravens' television debut came on January 2, 1949, when they appeared on the "Toast Of The Town" (aka the Ed Sullivan Show). Looking extremely nervous, Maithe, Richie, Jimmy, and Leonard sang "My Sugar Is So Refined." Sullivan was supposed to present them with an award as the top vocal group in the country (an honor they won in a Cashbox magazine poll), but the show ran out of time before he could do it.

A bit later in January, while they were playing the Royal Roost (at 47th and Broadway), Warren Suttles returned, and Richie Cannon was let go.

National celebrated by releasing "Deep Purple"/"Leave My Gal Alone", two Ricks-led sides. The music to "Deep Purple" was written by Peter De Rose in 1934; five years later, Mitchell Parish added the beautiful words. National really rushed to get these sides released, they'd only been recorded a couple of days before (on January 27), along with "Sylvia" and "The House I Live In" (they'd finally achieved perfection with this one).

While they were around New York, National had them do another session sometime in February. The four tunes recorded were: "Tea For Two," Ricky's Blues," "Without A Song," and "Marie."

March found them on a tour with Dinah Washington and Cootie Williams ("The Growl Trumpet King"), two more of Ben Bart's acts. The month-long tour (March 4 - April 5) took them to Philadelphia, Washington, D.C., Raleigh, Maxton (NC), Charleston, and Atlanta.

In May, National came out with "Ricky's Blues" (Ricky)/"The House I Live In" (Maithe and Ricky). "Ricky's Blues" hit #8 on the R&B charts. "The House I Live In" (written in 1942 by Lewis Allen and Earl Robinson) was a metaphor for the United States. It had been the subject of a Frank Sinatra "short" in the mid-40s. Beautiful as it was, it became an embarrassment to the Ravens. When Maithe sang the opening, "What is America to me?", he was heckled by Apollo Theater fans who didn't feel that America was treating blacks very well at that time.

In early June, it was reported that, with a name like "Ravens", it was only fitting that Jimmy Ricks was taking flying lessons. He was said to have purchased a Piper Cub when they were playing the Oasis Club in Los Angeles. However, Leonard says that the whole story was another fabrication.

Also in June, an article appeared (which I find difficult to believe), claiming that each member of the Ravens had been approached, within a two-week period, to leave the group. Ricks was the target of a "nationally famous choral group" which wanted his services. Maithe was offered a role in a "proposed Broadway musical". Puzey had the chance to join a "name" quartet. Suttles was approached for a "movie short". This stinks of a heavy-handed publicity agent. Ricks' statement to the press was: "We all are interested in the act. It's the big thing. We neither will change nor want to after we've come this far. Funny none of these offers came before we were an established success, isn't it?" Not to me, it isn't; why would anyone be interested in a bunch of unknowns?

Their next session was probably held in June, and the four tunes recorded were: "There's Nothing Like A Woman In Love," "Careless Love," "If You Didn't Mean It," and "Moonglow."

They started off July with Illinois Jacquet at the Earle Theater (Philadelphia). The next National issue, "There's Nothing Like A Woman In Love" (Ricky and Maithe)/"Careless Love" (Ricky), also appeared that month. ("Careless Love" was more or less a folk song, originally sung by a woman bewailing her unlooked-for pregnancy.) They then started a month-long engagement at Broadway's Bop City. In August, National announced that R&B records would no longer be advertised as "Race Records", "a word which has long been used by the recording industry to identify and segregate records by Negro artists." This move was applauded by the Ravens.

There was another session held on August 1, 1949, during which another four tracks were waxed: "Someday," "Lilacs In The Rain," "Tea For Two" (the second attempt at this), and "Get Wise Baby."

The next release was September's "If You Didn't Mean It" (Ricky)/"Someday" (Ricky and Maithe). The latter song, by other artists, was usually entitled "Someday You'll Want Me To Want You". In November, the corporation (Ravens Singers, Inc.) purchased a turkey farm in Marlboro, Maryland; they called it "Ravenswood". The question is who was "they"; neither Leonard nor Warren is aware that they ever owned a turkey farm.

Sometime after August 1, 1949 (the date of the "Lilacs In The Rain" session), Howard Biggs departed to join the Beavers (who had formed back in February). The Beavers (with Biggs definitely a member) appeared on the "Arthur Godfrey Talent Scouts" show on October 15 (they came in second). By the end of the year, when Biggs saw that the group was going nowhere, he looked around for another job and it was announced, in January 1950, that he'd been signed by Regal Records as Musical Director. By August, he had become the arranger for the Coleman Brothers, one of Regal's acts.

Biggs was replaced in the Ravens by Bill Sanford, who had worked as pianist and arranger with the 4 Vagabonds, and had even recorded with them, as bass, on their Miracle record, which had been released in September 1949 (but probably recorded a few months before).

In December, National issued a pair of releases. The first of these had the great ballad "I'm Afraid Of You" backed with "Get Wise Baby", both sides led by Ricky. The second was "I Don't Have To Ride No More" (Ricky)/"I've Been A Fool" (Maithe). "Ride" topped out at #9 (R&B), as their last National chart hit. A mid-December blurb talks of the "impending" marriage between Leonard Puzey and Ruth Brown. At the time, she was just beginning to emerge as an Atlantic hitmaker (and in September, she had still been married to, and recording with, Jimmy Brown). Leonard and Ruth became engaged, but the marriage never happened. The Ravens were playing a two-week engagement at the Strand (on Broadway) when Leonard was quoted as saying he was "very, very fond of the lady".

Also in December (on the 13th) four more tunes were recorded: "I've Been A Fool," "Talk Of The Town," "I Don't Have To Ride No More," and "No More Kisses For Baby."

In February 1950, the Ravens played Chicago's Regal Theater, with Dinah Washington and the Three Chocolateers. March saw the Ravens returning to Broadway's Bop City, for a twelve-day engagement with bandleader Artie Shaw. While there, Ricks slipped and hurt his back while (went the story) moving a stack of Ravens' arrangements; this served to sideline him for one performance.