Return to Stage a Personal Triumph for Teddy Pendergrass

By Mary-Louise Piner

Photo of Teddy Pendergrass, by Tony Cutajar and courtesy So What Media & Dream Street Management, Inc.

Soul music legend Teddy Pendergrass had achieved many a young musician's dream by age 32. A string of hit songs such as "If You Don't Know Me by Now" with The Blue Notes and "Love TKO" as a solo artist had made the 'Teddy Bear' a 1970s icon. A near-fatal car accident in 1982 changed that but, as Pendergrass has shown with a series of live performances, his voice and his ability to hold an audience captive are still intact.

Because his return to the stage represents a personal victory, because of his involvement with programs that will assist others with spinal cord injuries improve the quality of their lives, and because, as a high-profile person with a disability, Pendergrass can't help but be seen by some as a role model, the Solutions Marketing Group recently interviewed him for our Profile in Excellence.

Learning a new life

In the twenty years that passed between his March 1982 accident and his May 2002 return to the stage, Pendergrass, now 52, never disappeared from the music world. In 1984, he began recording again and had three consecutive gold records. This was "a big boost for me," said Pendergrass. He began to do appearances at award shows and, in 1985, he sang at the Live Aid benefit concert, which was broadcasted in front of an estimated 1.5 billion people.

During that time, Pendergrass also began to find his way in various business pursuits and, he says, focused on "learning my new life, and learning how to live it productively." That new life included learning his limits and accepting his spinal cord injury.

Pendergrass never focused his energies on trying to walk again or find a cure. Instead, he focuses on quality of life. Says Pendergrass, "Although I would absolutely love to be able to walk again and experience total independence, I am a realistic individual who doesn't want to rely on or put my hopes in a cure ideal that may or may not happen in my lifetime." While Pendergrass applauds the efforts of scientists and researchers working on cures, he says, "it is extremely important to me to concentrate on continuing to reach my life's goals and not direct my energies towards research."

Although Pendergrass was always interested in the idea of returning to the stage, he says, "I would only do it at the level I left." That challenge required a lot of preparation. "It took years of feeling in a place physically and emotionally" before he felt prepared to return, he relates.

Reception

Although Pendergrass felt that he was ready for the stage again last spring, he did not have the same assurance that audiences were ready for him. But the response to his return to live performing has been overwhelmingly positive, from fans and peers alike. "Recording again and doing concerts has gotten me past patronizing views," he maintains.

Asked whether he felt that his music is still taken seriously despite the time that has past and his change of lifestyle, Pendergrass says, "People still pay $70-$80 for a ticket. That's taken seriously." Overall, he's been pleased with the reception he's received. "It's been great—a real spiritual awakening," he says.

But while being on stage has been enjoyable, it's getting there that's hard work. Once he's on stage, Pendergrass says, "it's a breeze. I block out everything else" and enjoy performing. But leaving his home in Philadelphia, boarding a plane, hoping his health holds up, hoping his wheelchair makes it through the luggage hold unbroken—these are greater concerns than the music.

"I have a staff of twenty-some people who don't get paid if I don't do a show," Pendergrass says. Although he hasn't had to cancel a scheduled performance yet, he says that if the situation arises, "I must give in to my health."

His fans agree that Pendergrass' music, his ability to deliver a performance at the level he left, haven't changed much. In the twenty years since he was last on stage, Pendergrass says he's gotten "older and wiser," but otherwise his approach to his music is still the same. His ability to return as he has gives him a great sense of accomplishment, Pendergrass says. "It means a whole lot more to me" than if his life had taken a different path, he relates.

Pendergrass maintains that "My music hasn't changed, but what's changed is how I go about physically writing the music." Pendergrass keeps his audience in mind when he writes. "I try to make sure my lyrics speak to the broadest audience: to people who are able-bodied."

In his music, as in his worldview, his disability doesn't take center stage. "I don't and can't deny that I'm a disabled person, but I have to maintain the same professional image that I had before the accident. I don't need to draw sympathy or enlighten someone in my music by focusing on my disability."

Teddy Pendergrass Alliance

A few years ago, Pendergrass established the Teddy Pendergrass Alliance based on his belief in the importance of achieving the best quality of life for himself and others who have survived spinal cord injuries. "Throughout my career, people provided me with opportunities," says Pendergrass. The Alliance is his way of doing the same for others. "I believe that with opportunities, people can make great achievements."

The Alliance has as its goal getting the best productivity for people with SCIs. Says Pendergrass, To that end, the Teddy Pendergrass Alliance focuses on education. "I love education," says Pendergrass. "I'm a firm believer that, with education, people with spinal cord injuries can succeed." The Alliance, now going through a restructuring phase, partners with universities and colleges as well as businesses to help achieve that goal. "Preparation is key," says Pendergrass, "not just luck." Rather than just giving handouts, Alliance aims to help people become self-sufficient. "We're not going to focus on getting people 'things,' like a wheelchair or transportation. We want to work with people who are ready to buckle down and go to school, with the goal of getting a job that enables them to live a full life."

Talent agency

Although the Alliance is on hold for the moment, another Pendergrass-backed project is in the works to help artists with spinal cord injuries get a chance at a big break. Together with Doug Heir, the president of the National Spinal Cord Injury Association, Pendergrass recently established the International Talent Agency for People with Disabilities. Still, Pendergrass cautions, "it's very difficult to get in" to the music business. He credits his positive reception last year to his past history and past success, a circumstance that most others with disabilities would not share.

Says Pendergrass, "It's difficult being a 'celebrity' but also negotiating life as a quad." Noting that, as a well-known musician with a significant disability, he's in a unique position, Pendergrass says, "I've had the responsibility to open the doors. Still, he maintains, "I'm not trying to prove anything" by returning to the stage. " I have to live my purpose. I don't stomp the ground; I just be me. The best I can do it try to be the best I can be." Although he doesn't set out to be a role model, "if [my achievements] give people incentive" to better themselves, then that will be their personal victory.