Star-Crossed : Quartet Was on Its Way to the Top--Until the Watts Riots

Eddie Lewis hasn’t forgotten how it used to be. The gold records. The packed nightclubs. The concerts with the Temptations and Gladys Knight.

Twenty-five years ago he sang tenor for the Olympics, a popular quartet positioned at the edge of stardom. Already nationally known for a string of hit tunes on the pop charts, including the classic hits “Western Movies” and “Do the Hully Gully,” the Los Angeles natives were at fame’s doorstep.

The Watts Riots slammed the door in their faces.

In less than a day, the group lost two members. One singer, Charles Fizer, was gunned down as he drove to a rehearsal. And a second singer, Melvin King, left the group after his sister was accidentally shot to death by police officers investigating a domestic dispute, Lewis recalled.

The shooting “happened right in front of (King),” said the 53-year-old tenor, resting his thin arms on a dinner table covered with yellowing posters and old newspaper clippings about the group. “That was it for him. We lost two members just like that. But we knew we couldn’t quit. The group went on.”

But it was never the same. Despite another pair of hits the year after the riots, revamped versions of the quartet were unable to maintain its earlier success. The fanfare, the record deals, the airplay--all evaporated soon after the upheaval.

Now, a quarter-century after the riots, the Olympics are trying to recapture lost glory. The group--which includes Lewis, William DeVase, Kenny Sinclair and original lead singer Walter Ward--is shopping around new songs and reviving old dance steps. They are performing more--the quartet recently played to a packed audience in Reno--and looking for a record deal.

“Our time is coming,” said Sinclair, 51, who has been with the group 19 years. “We still have what it takes.”

The quartet formed from the 1956 duo of Lewis and Ward, first cousins who whiled away their time at Inglewood’s Centennial High School crooning for friends. After months of honing their talent in Centennial’s bathrooms and hallways, the pair dubbed themselves the Challengers and took their act to the stages of local talent shows.

“We would beat everybody,” said Lewis. “Seriously. We were in talent shows something like ‘Star Search.’ We didn’t lose one match. There just weren’t any groups around who could touch us.”

One of the losing groups included Fizer and King. Defeated by the Challengers at a talent show near the Imperial Courts housing project, the two singers decided they would rather perform with Lewis and Ward than against them.

“We let them in and then drew names from a hat a few days later, when we decided to change our name,” said Lewis. “That’s how we picked the name Olympics.”

It quickly became one of the hottest names on the rock circuit. The group’s first hit, “Western Movies,” went gold in 1958. “Do the Hully Gully,” which started a national dance craze in 1960, and “Big Boy Pete,” released the same year, both sold more than 500,000 copies, Lewis said. The quartet climbed into the Top 100 three times in 1960 alone.

Over the next few years, the Olympics shared stages with rock ‘n’ roll legends Little Anthony and the Imperials, the Coasters and Jackie Wilson.

But then it all ended one tragic August evening--25 years ago this week. That night in 1965, as Fizer drove through Watts, his car was riddled with gunfire--sprayed, Lewis claims, by National Guardsmen.

“His car was shot 15 times,” said Lewis, his voice lowering. “He wasn’t rioting. He was coming to rehearsal. But they still shot him. Fifteen times.”

Los Angeles County records show that Fizer, 22 at the time, died Aug. 14, 1965, shot in the head at 102nd and Long Beach streets. His death certificate indicates he died “during riots.”

However, Fizer’s name is not among the 34 victims on the official list of those killed during the violence.

A spokesman for the National Guard said the names of all known victims of guardsmen’s bullets were reported to government investigators.

“If we shot him, we said we shot him,” said Col. Roger Goodrich. “If (Fizer’s shooting) hasn’t come to light until now, I’m not going to investigate it. That would be inappropriate.”

Then, as now, Fizer’s death remains a puzzle to the surviving members of the Olympics.

“We knew he wasn’t rioting,” said Lewis. “We weren’t political. We didn’t even know the riot was going on until the second day. We had been out of town, so Charles had no idea of what was going on.”

Hours later, the group received more bad news. King’s sister was shot in the head after two police officers went to her home to check on a report of a domestic dispute, Lewis said.

“We just couldn’t believe any of it,” said Lewis. “The whole group was hurt. It was strange, though, because we had a show to do that night in San Diego. We went and did it, too. And Melvin went with us.”

But when the show ended, Lewis said, King quit.

In the years that followed, the group recruited several new members to replace King and Fizer. None seemed able to help the Olympics sustain their popularity. A host of contract problems with record companies and producers compounded the group’s troubles.

“The public has never heard all the songs we had,” said Lewis. “And we didn’t get paid a whole lot for the ones we did write. We got ripped off by lawyers and record companies.”

In 1971, Sinclair joined the group. DeVase signed on nine years later to round out the roster. Ward and Lewis say the two have provided the group with a chemistry the Olympics have lacked since Fizer’s death.

Unfazed by the prospect that they might be considered out of step with the times, the performers say their new sound will be a refreshing addition to a popular music market currently dominated by the likes of soul idols like Bobby Brown and rap groups like Public Enemy.

“We can do it now,” Lewis said, “just like we did then.”