Big Chief Theodore ‘Bo’ Dollis dies at the age of 71

26th January 2015   ·   0 Comments

By Geraldine Wyckoff
Contributing Writer

Theodore “Bo” Dollis was a Big Chief with a big, big voice and a big, big smile. Whether leading his Mardi Gras Indian gang, the Wild Magnolias, on the streets on Carnival Day or performing with his funk band on stages in his hometown of New Orleans and around the world, Bo Dollis lit up his surroundings with that voice, that smile and his mere presence. Following a long illness, Big Chief Theodore “Bo” Dollis died on Tuesday, January 20, 2015. He was 71.

Bo Dollis, who at age 13 first masked Indian with the Golden Arrows, rose quickly in the Black Indian Nation. After holding the position of flagboy with the Wild Magnolias, he soon became the gang’s chief when he was just 20 years old. These days, we see many young chiefs on the street but back in the day, the honored position was usually held by the elders.

Little Walter Cook, the chief of the Creole Wild West, whose father founded the Wild Magnolias and whose uncle, Leon Cook, was once its chief, says that Chief Joey Barker passed the Wild Magnolias gang on to Bo Dollis. One of the reasons, it is told, was because of Bo Dollis’ extraordinary voice. For in the pure Black Indian tradition, it is the chief who sings and improvises the story-telling lyrics while the members of the gang provide the “answering” chants. It could be presumed too that Bo Dollis’ enthusiasm for the culture, singing, life and people was a factor in Barker’s decision to make him chief. The exuberant Bo Dollis was a natural.

Bo Dollis was also an innovator who brought the Mardi Gras Indian culture to the world and revolutionized its parameters. On Carnival Day or St. Joseph’s night, he continued to hold on to the Black Indian traditions of percussion instruments – tambourines, drums – accompanying the singing and dancing in the streets. However, in 1970 he recorded a 45 rpm of his song “Handa Wanda,” which was produced by Quint Davis, the producer of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. Here, Bo Dollis’ soulful vocals were backed by now-legends with pianist Willie Tee (Turbinton), who also provided arrangements, his brother saxophonist Earl Turbin­ton, guitarist Snooks Eaglin and percussionist Alfred Uganda Roberts. That single and The Wild Magnolias’ 1974 self-titled album, which further revealed Dollis’ talents as a composer, set in motion the use of melodic instruments for shows and recordings by the Mardi Gras Indians that thrives today.

At the first Jazz Fest in 1970, Bo Dollis and his life-long friend and fellow recording and performing artist, Big Chief Monk Boudreaux of the Golden Eagles, also brought the Indian culture to the people when they paraded from the festival site at Congo Square into the French Quarter. For many spectators, it was their first look at a Mardi Gras Indian.

Since the day of his death, Black Indians have been gathering to celebrate the life of Big Chief Bo Dollis by chanting and ringing their tambourines in the central city neighborhood where he lived, roamed and “played” Indian. They have also been out there to show support for his family, his wife of 39 years, Laurita, who was also by the chief’s side as his Big Queen, and their son, Gerald “Bo Jr.,” the Big Chief of the Wild Magnolias.

At a time of such a great loss, it’s also a time for remembrances and some light-hearted stories.

Gerald ‘Bo Jr.’ Dollis – Chief of the Wild Magnolias

One thing always sticks in my mind – I think it was like 1985 and I was five years old. He had an orange Indian suit and his headpiece was so big and there was a RTA bus behind him and nobody knew the bus was there. That’s how big his headpiece was. Other RTA buses turned on their lights and people thought dad had lights inside his Indian suit.

He started with me early with me – with me not knowing what he was doing. When I was four or five, he would bring me to Indian practice and I would dance on the floor. If I was doing something wrong, he’d let me know: ‘Well, open your eyes, stop dancing with your eyes closed, don’t turn your back.’ Me being nosy and wanting to help, I think that’s how I learned how to build Indian suits – me just hanging around him. He’d say, ‘Come over here, you glue this one, you sew this, you staple that on.’ I don’t know why I’m helping. I’m just helping my daddy.

Irvin ‘Honey’ Bannister – Flagboy Creole Wild West

I traveled with him all over the world for 15 years and I’ve been masking with the Creole Wild West since I was six years old so I had to meet him (on the street) as a kid. So our friendship and relationship built up off of that. I loved being next to him when he was singing. I got all of everything he had because at every show he did he put out 100 per cent. He used to make sure that the Indian suit got on the plane before he got on the plane.

The one thing that I always remember is that at every gig, I don’t care if it was San Francisco, Utah, New York City, every morning for 7 o’clock I had to go get his cigarettes and go pick up his bags and bring them to the van. If I took too long, he’d be standing on a balcony waiting for me.

He was my inspiration. When I hear his songs, that lets me know it’s getting close to Mardi Gras so that’s what pushes me. Now that he’s gone, it’s just kinda hard to sew right now.

Big Chief Little Walter – Chief of the Creole Wild West

I was Bo Dollis’ flag boy at one time and I used to be a chief scout at one time. He and my dad were tight because my dad was the founder of the Wild Magnolias.

He had that voice you know. When I was small he used to stay around the corner from me on Josephine Street and I used to sit on his steps and listen to him sing.

He showed me a lot of things about dealing with the Mardi Gras Indians crowns and things.

We pretty much had good times, we’d sit around the table and we’d laugh and talk about the good days, like he’d say: “Time brings on the change.” Everybody has their times in this Mardi Gras. Like {chiefs} Robbe and all of them had their turn, he had his turn, I had my turn and my father had his turn.

As I look at it now, Bo Dollis was the type of man who was a go-getter. He was telling me about time changes because you go a long with this Mardi Gras and you never stop learning.

He’s gone with (chiefs) Tootie, Rudy, Jake and everybody else. I’m going to give him a phone call on Mardi Gras and see if he’s going to answer. Tell Bo to be waiting on my phone call. He might not answer but I know he’s here. I know he’ll see me. I’m gonna give him a call to tell him I’m at his front door.

A music tribute for Bo Dollis will be held at 8 p.m. on January 30, 2015 at the Carver Theatre. A funeral service will take place on Saturday, January 30, with arrangements pending.

This article originally published in the January 26, 2015 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper.