Jimmy
King was born in Winnipeg (St. James),
Manitoba on April 26, 1920, and attended
Bannatyne School and Linwood School. After
several part-time jobs, including a road
trip with a country and western band, he
joined the Royal Canadian Artillery in
1940 and served overseas for five and a
half years. He was a drill sergeant.
Returning home after the Second World War,
he decided he wanted a career in music. It
began in 1950 with a brief engagement at
Winnipeg’s Don Carlos night club. He knew
then he didn’t want to be just a musician,
he wanted to be the leader of the band.
In the early days he played in the house
band at the Royal Alexandra Hotel at the
corner of Higgins and Main. From the 1950s
through 1960s, he sold pianos for the T.
Eaton Company and organs at the Hammond
organ outlet at Polo Park while playing
weddings, corporate events, funerals, bar
mitzvahs and various shows. He did
occasional gigs at The Stage Door, a jazz
club on Fort Street run by Jack Shapira.
He later directed the Jimmy King Orchestra
and the Golden Boy Brass but also took on
smaller jobs such trios and piano bar
gigs. In the summer he would often be seen
performing at Assiniboine Park. He was
equally proficient on the vibraphone and
the marimbas as he was on the piano.
Along with his wife Fay, they had six
children. The eldest, James, died in
infancy. Raising five kids as a musician
was not always easy as money was often
tight. His family grew as did his
reputation.
He wrote the entertainment column Night
Beat for the Winnipeg Free Press for over
13 years covering the local music scene.
King was no stranger to television either.
From the mid-1960s to mid-1970s he was
musical director for the CJAY (CKY) Talent
Show. He was also the front man for
musical programs such as Night Cap on CBWT
(CBC) or Pan Americana along with
well-known entertainer José Poneira during
the Pan Am Games of 1967. In the ‘80s, he
hosted his own TV show Downstairs at Jimmy
King’s which allowed him a platform to
showcase many musical acts, local and
beyond. One such performer was guitarist
Lenny Breau. And finally, he hosted Jimmy
King Presents on CKND.
Playing in lounges and clubs, he might
have finished his workday at midnight or
later. That doesn’t factor in the times he
showed up after work at one of the local
bootleggers for what he diplomatically
called “a taste.”
King never encouraged his children to
pursue a career in show business knowing
all the pitfalls that could befall them.
Still, sometimes the apples never fall
from the tree. His eldest son Bob became a
successful musician and songwriter; David,
who passed away in 2021, was an actor and
playwright; Randy was an entertainment
columnist and journalist for the Winnipeg
Free Press; Ian worked in graphic arts and
daughter Gini worked in accounting. (Randy
would refer to her as the white sheep of
the family.)
He was a long-time member of the Winnipeg
Press Club and performed with the Jimmy
King Trio for 25 years in its annual
fundraising productions of “Beer and
Skits”. Additionally, he was Club
President of the Press Club from 1984 to
1985. He also served as President of the
St. James Assiniboia Museum.
Jimmy King passed away in Winnipeg on July
10, 1987.
As published in Lifestyles 55, April 9,
2023
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“Nine-to-five is jive.” I never
actually heard my father say that. But the
quote was attributed to him after his
death in 1987 and, well, the hipster
jargon checks out.
Had he lived, my father, Jimmy King, would
have turned 100 this past April. He was a
working musician most of his life. In
Winnipeg, that meant weddings, funerals,
bar mitzvahs, anything. He led a big band
— the Golden Boy Brass — but he worked in
all iterations of musical endeavour,
including trios and piano bar gigs.
On television, he was perhaps best known
for being the bandleader of The Talent
Show (which morphed into Tiny Talent Time)
or now obscure musical programs with
titles such as Night Cap or Pan Americana.
Friends of mine who grew up watching
Archie Wood and Friends on CJAY TV knew
him as the invisible guy Uncle Bob Swarts
would cue up before dropping the needle on
a recording of How Much Is That Doggie in
the Window? as performed by the puppy
puppet Petite, or Winchester Cathedral as
performed by Marvin the Mouse. (It’s a bit
ironic that one of his claims to fame was
something he had absolutely nothing to do
with.)
Anyway, yes, a musician’s work is rarely
limited to nine-to-five parameters.
Excluding the times he worked selling
pianos at Eatons or Hammond organs at the
organ outlet in Polo Park, his was a life
of odd hours. Playing in lounges and
clubs, he might have finished his workday
at midnight or later. That doesn’t factor
in the times he showed up after work at
one of the local bootleggers for what he
diplomatically called “a taste.”
He fathered six children with my mother,
Fay. The eldest, James, died in infancy.
It remained a laudable accomplishment to
successfully raise up five kids as a
musician, although money was often tight.
Don’t try to explain the “gig economy” to
children of musicians. We know all too
well.
It helped he was a charismatic guy and he
had a head for business, which allowed him
to make a living as a musical contractor
in addition to playing gigs. In the ’70s,
he had a weekly Free Press column, Night
Beat, which kept tabs on the doings of
musicians at a time when live acts were
still flourishing. In the ’80s, he hosted
his own TV show — Downstairs at Jimmy
King’s — which allowed him a platform to
showcase many musical acts, local and
beyond.
His career didn’t dissuade his kids from
working in risky businesses. My eldest
brother Bob himself became a musician and
songwriter and made a decent go of it.
(Some of my co-workers were almost beside
themselves when I shared that Bob wrote
the song Brother for Sale as recorded by
the Olsen twins. If I told them about his
authorship of the Fred Penner hit
Sandwiches, they might have truly lost
it.) My brother David became an actor and
playwright; Ian worked in graphic arts. My
sister Gini worked in accounting. (I call
her the white sheep of the family.) And
me, well, I also took up with writing for
the Free Press on the entertainment beat,
which is about as close as anyone in my
family got to working nine to five.
My father didn’t particularly want his
kids to go into the arts. As a musician,
life was often a struggle. He would
probably have preferred his kids to become
doctors or teachers.
The problem is that he loved what he did.
Kids tend to notice stuff like that.
Randall King
As published in the Winnipeg Free
Press June 20, 2020
Jimmy King passed away in Winnipeg,
Manitoba, Canada on July 10, 1987
All photos courtesy of
Owen Clark
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