Here’s the next segment of my new series of concert reviews and details of what I remember about various shows, performances, and events over the years that I’ve attended. Some of these reviews will be short, while others will be much longer and more detailed. It all depends on what I remember and what research is available on those old concert dates. I hope you enjoy reliving these musical experiences with me.
Classic Concert Review: Tony Orlando and Dawn at the Cotton Bowl (Dallas), June 3, 1973
Tony Orlando and Dawn was entirely a pop music accident.
Inadvertently formed after releasing a surprise hit record, no one expected the fortuitous “group” to succeed, let alone spawn two universally-beloved #1 smash-hit songs as well as star in their very own Top-20 ranked weekly television show on CBS.
But the trio fronted by a half-Greek/half-Puerto Rican lead singer backed up by two Black female studio session singers ended up recording and selling tens of millions of records and churned out several hits that transcended just the Billboard charts. One of their songs even launched a mass movement in the form of simple colored ribbons to raise public awareness for a variety of causes over the decades since then, a ritual that remains with us to this day.
It all started with an accidental moment in time in the spring of 1973 at the cavernous Cotton Bowl football stadium in Dallas. I was fortunate enough to be sitting in the upper deck of the 75,000-seat stadium that night, at age 11. Here’s the story and my review of that show.
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The Dawn of Dawn
Michael Anthony Orlando Cassivitis grew up in New York City’s Hell’s Kitchen. Determined to escape childhood poverty, Cassivitis turned to music and started singing and dancing for tips on the NYC subway. In his late teens, he formed his own doo-wop singing group — The Five Gents. Famed op music icon Don Kirshner discovered Cassivitis in 1960 and hired him to do vocals on a few demos for a then-unknown songwriter named Carole King. The unlikely duo worked together for months, churning out several takes, one of which, “Halfway To Paradise” was released as a single and became Cassivitis’ first hit in 1961, reaching #39 on the charts. Their follow-up record, “Bless You,” fared even better when it peaked at #15. Cassivitis was suddenly a teen star who even appeared on the TV show American Bandstand. But that marked his early plateau and he quickly faded from the music scene just as quickly as he’d arrived.
In the 1960s, Cassavitis — who eventually adopted the stage name Tony Orlando — struggled as a solo artist. So, he became a record producer and morphed into a successful industry executive. The legendary Clive Davis saw his intense drive and hired Orlando as the general manager of Columbia Records. By 1970, Orlando had worked his way up to Vice President of CBS Music where he signed, co-wrote, and produced with a young singer who would dominate pop music during much of the 1970s — Barry Manilow.
While still working for CBS Music, Orlando heard an obscure song titled “Knock Three Times.” It was a catchy tune with a funny and racy premise, and Orlando believed it could be a hit single. So, on a whim, he went to a different record label and secretly recorded a demo along with two backup singers — Toni Wine and Linda November (later replaced by Joyce Vincent Wilson and Telma Hopkins). Orlando didn’t want his employer CBS Music to know about the recording just in case it bombed, so he named the group and released the record under the name — “Dawn.” Orlando was uncredited on the recording. Not expecting much, the song was released by Bell Records as a single, and then shocked everyone by hitting No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in January 1971. It went on to sell six million copies.
Confident in his instincts and figuring that he now had the momentum to relaunch his own career as a performer, the group began touring and was renamed “Dawn featuring Tony Orlando.”
By early 1973, “Tony Orlando and Dawn” was the group’s revamped name, with Wilson and Hopkins bookended onstage as Orlando’s two musical sidekicks. In January, the group went back into the studio and recorded a song with its own interesting history, which became a smash hit, a sentimental favorite, and a trademark of social activism.
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Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree
There are hits, and then there are megahits and special life moments. “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree” was an absolute blockbuster. It rocketed to #1 on the charts where it stayed for four weeks. The song sold ten million copies worldwide.
The song was written by Irwin Levine and L. Russell Brown. The duo also penned the hit song “Knock Three Times. Oddly enough, it had nothing to do with the Vietnam War nor returning POWs when it was originally composed. The early version was a throwback to a Civil War practice, whereby women tied yellow ribbons in their hair to show their devotion to the husbands and boyfriends enlisted in the Calvary. The raw version was first offered to Ringo Starr, but an executive at Apple Records listened to the pitch and then told them that they should be ashamed of the song and described it as “ridiculous.” Just imagine Ringo Starr doing the lead vocals.
How “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree” came to be associated with returning Vietnam vets and later many other noble causes was entirely an accident of history. Credit Bob Hope and the Cottom Bowl show. Here’s where Orlando tells the story best of how he came to perform at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas:
The song came out and I received a call at my home from none other than Bob Hope, who I had never met. At first I thought someone was kidding me. He said, “I want you to come to Dallas to play at the Cotton Bowl. We are welcoming home our POWs from Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. There will be 70,000 people at the Cotton Bowl and I would like you to open the show with ‘Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree’ because the opening line is ‘I’m coming home. I’ve done my time.’ That is perfect for them.” I had not sung that song in person before that. I went to Dallas and, sure enough, there was a list of stars as long as your arm, and we opened the show. Sitting on the 50-yard line were our American POWs, over 500 of them, in an audience of 70,000 people. I start singing ‘Yellow Ribbon’ and I get to the chorus and I hear what sounds like 70,000 people singing ‘Tie a Yellow Ribbon.’ Then I look and I see the POWs are singing just that line, too. Then they would stop. Then sing just that line again because that is all they knew. These POWs eyes hadn’t even adjusted to daylight yet. They had broken legs and broken arms from torture and they were all singing that line from the song except for one POW who had his head down. It was killing me that he wasn’t clapping along like the rest of them. I thought I may have said something that upset this man.
I’ll get back to Orlando’s account of his debut performance of “Tie a Yellow Ribbon” and the rest of the story about the POW who wasn’t singing and clapping along with the rest of the crowd. But first, let me share more about the rest of the show and what I remember.
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A Salute to Vietnam Veterans
The salute to Vietnam veterans at the Cotton Bowl was a very different type of musical variety show. This wasn’t Woodstock or Altamont. The New York Times recognized this and even wrote about the contrasts afterward (READ HERE).
One interesting discrepancy about the show was the crowd size. Orlando later remembered a full house of 70,000, but the stadium was really half empty due to severe thunderstorms and a forecast for heavy rain, which came very close to canceling the show.
The compelling reasons why the show went as planned were obvious. Hundreds of former POWs had already flown into Dallas, the musical acts were all lined up (including Tony Orlando and Dawn-currently riding the wave of the top song in the country), and even Bob Hope was emceeing the ceremony. There was no way this show was going to be canceled or postponed.
What I remember was the first excitement of attending a real stadium show. I also recall the way-too-bright lights and terrible acoustics. The stadium’s overhead light towers were turned on during the entire time, far more suitable for a football game than a variety show. It was almost impossible to see the performers with any clarity from a distance. This was a long time before jumbo screens, so binoculars were everywhere, including around my dad’s neck who took me to the show night as we passed them back and forth to see what was happening on stage.
Bob Hope told corny jokes, which were still funny, at least from what could be deciphered from the acoustical mess. Apparently, no one had thought this through in advance. Hope’s voice echoed two or three times in an annoying reverberation that created a logistical nightmare for him and thousands in the audience. The stadium’s 1930’s-era sound speakers were shaped like air-raid sirens and affixed to the top of tall poles making the cavernous echo effect not only far worse, but often scratchy. It was impossible to time a punchline with a laugh. Hope would say something, then hear himself on the speaker delay as the sound of his own voice bounced off the back of the rear end zone a few seconds later. Hope, the old pro used to playing in some strange places from his many USO tours, had some real fun with this, and the crowd loved every second of it.
The audience, gifted free admission, was entirely supportive of the POWs and all the performers. They even seemed to remain patriotically loyal to the lost cause during this, the later stages of the Vietnam War until the very end (the 1973 Paris Peace Accords had been signed the very day that “Tie a Yellow Ribbon” was recorded). They stood for the national anthem, they prayed when Rev. Billy Graham took the stage, they sang, they laughed, and they cheered on cue.
Still, there was a cruel irony to the sight and sounds of 400-500 POWs returning to a country they barely knew, centered inside football stadium like mannequins, propped up on a giant stage under the bright lights who were in many cases just weeks and no more than a few months after being released from captivity as prisoners of the North Vietnamese from the infamous Hanoi Hilton. These were brave men who had suffered, endured, and somehow managed to survive unspeakable deprivation and torture now each one of them struggling to make sense of it all and to adjust to whatever “normal” was supposed to be.
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The Rest of the Story
Now, continuing with Tony Orlando’s recollection of that first performance of his hit song and the one POW up onstage who didn’t seem to be enjoying the show:
After the show, I went up to Bob Hope and asked, ‘Mr. Hope, did you see that one POW who wasn’t clapping his hands or singing along? Do you think I said something to upset him?’ He said, ‘Why don’t you just go and ask him?’ So I went up to the POW and said, ‘Excuse me. My name is Tony Orlando. I opened the show tonight and I hope that I didn’t say anything to upset you. I noticed that you weren’t clapping and singing along.’ He said, “Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry. My name is John McCain. I hope you won’t be offended but they broke and pulled my shoulder out of its socket so I can’t clap my hands. What you didn’t see were my big toes keeping time in my shoes.’ We became friends after that.
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Ribbons that Bind Us
Since that night in Dallas nearly 50 years ago, “Tie a Yellow Ribbon” has become more than just a hit song.
From that first performance, the tune became one of the most popular songs of all time.
But Tony Orlando and Dawn’s song was far more impactful than just for fame and fortune. Later, Orlando recalled the release of the hostages from Iran in January 1981, when neighborhoods across the country were draped in yellow ribbons as a display of homecoming. Then, after the terrible tragedy of 9/11, ribbons again became a symbol of our unity and healing.
Even today, a pink ribbon stands for Breast Cancer Awareness. Ribbons have become both a statement and a comfort.
And it’s perfectly okay to sing along, clap our hands, and even….tap our toes.
Read other articles in this “Classic Concert Reviews” series: