America's Polka King: The Real Story of
Frankie Yankovic and His Music
Bob Dolgan
Gray and Company

In this new millennium, Cleveland has King James, as in LeBron, the world-famous basketball player. In the last century of the old millennium, however, Clevelanders knew a different King. This one was Frank, as in Yankovic, the man who made the words polka and Cleveland nearly synonymous from the late thirties until his death in 1998. In fact, in 1948 Yankovic won the first of his three titles as America's Polka King when the competition was new. (It was sponsored by major record companies, each of which had at least one polka band in their collection.)

Yankovic won the first-ever Grammy Award for polka music. His name alone drew the largest crowds ever to many dance halls throughout the Midwest, when mobility was certainly less than it is today. In an era where the media wasn't always busy creating the new hotshot, Yankovic absolutely shined. Ten famous accordionists played for his funeral — one of the single largest memorials ever seen in Cleveland.

Recently-retired sportswriter for the Plain Dealer, Bob Dolgan knew Yankovic when they were both hardly more than pups. He has written an engaging book about Yankovic (who was not born in Cleveland) but certainly made it his homeplace for most of his adult life. Dolgan tells it like it was — both the shiny and tarnished parts — without dwelling on those so-called unsavory bits.

Yankovic was a natural on the stage: a born entertainer, he loved what he did, unqualifiedly, and made sure the people in the audience enjoyed themselves as well. The ones who suffered most were his family - his wives and children who remained behind in Cleveland as he toured for 325 days a year. The flip side of it was that he earned an excellent living by doing so; none of his wives or 10 children ever went without anything he (or they) thought they needed — except for perhaps his presence or companionship.

It may come as a surprise to some that polkas are not exclusively Polish. There are many differences between the Polish and Slovenian varieties, and Yankovic was entirely Slovenian. Once he learned how to play the accordion, he was a gifted musician, able to write lyrics to go with melodies that he wrote, or to put American lyrics to older Slovenian or Italian folk songs. He quickly made the new song his own, and happily shared with his huge audiences. His biggest hits were Blue Skirt Waltz, Just Because and In Heaven There is no Beer.

Dolgan also honors other Cleveland polka greats: Johnny Pecon and his sons Jeff and John, Jr., Lou Trebar, Eddie Habat, Kenny Bass, Johnny Vadnal, Jimmy Sturr, George Staiduhar, Dan Wojtila, Don Wojtila, Ed Sumrada, Tony Petkovsek and Joey Miskulin. There are photos, an index and a splendid discography, in addition to the history of Cleveland through the 1900s, told as a framework to the man and his music.

It's too bad that Yankovic didn't listen (or pay attention) to another popular song of his era, however. You Always Hurt the One You Love, might have saved him some heartaches along the way. Or maybe not. He was one of a kind—a showman through and through, and as Dolgan says, "He brought a lot of joy to a lot of people." Not a bad epitaph, after all.

For more information, please visit the Gray and Company website at http://www.grayco.com, which includes a sample chapter from Dolgan's book.

From Cool Cleveland contributor Kelly Ferjutz artswriterATadelphia.net

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