Meet Ramona Collins, the 'hardest working singer' in Toledo

Oct. 17—Chances are you've heard of Ramona Collins.

One of Toledo's best-known jazz singers, she first took the stage here 53 years ago and shows no sign of letting up.

But what a lot of people don't know about her is the extraordinary balancing act she's maintained throughout her life.

Collins, known simply to friends and family as "Mona," has five children, 11 grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren. She was pregnant with her second child, Brian, when she graduated from high school, on time and with her class, according to her oldest son, Brett Collins, a former journalist now in charge of the Art Tatum Center at the Toledo Lucas County Public Library's Kent branch in the Old West End.

He said he admires her "multi-tasking muscle," and because she "managed to find a balance between being a mother, developing her craft and pursuing her dreams," someone who at times also opened their house to extended family members who needed a place to live. Along the way, she held a series of day jobs, too.

"I think one of the reasons she is so focused on being accessible and generous with her time is because she received help at crucial times while raising us and balancing a day job and a career as a performer," Brett Collins said. "It has not always been easy and it was hard to see her have to go to perform on nights when she wasn't feeling up to it. But she showed up and did what she had to do."

Ramona Collins continues to be one of this area's most in-demand performers, and her many bookings include anything from wineries to churches to festivals, plus a wide assortment of clubs in Toledo, Detroit, Ann Arbor, and other cities, even New York with the famed pianist Johnny O'Neal. Plus, there have been major events such as the recent Solheim Cup Fan Fest. She performed as the warmup act for Gladys Knight's 2018 show at Promenade Park.

Musicians love her because she fits in seamlessly with many types of groups, from jazz trios and other small combos to large orchestras and, of course, as a solo act or duet.

They describe her as a consummate pro.

Collins is a little surprised by her staying power, believing it must have something to do with her being equal parts singer and entertainer.

"Normally, when you're a female entertainer, things slow way, way, way down after age 40," said Collins, who turns 73 on Oct. 28.

Though she most often has the jazz singer label attached to her, Collins is also a fan favorite because of her versatility. She's just as comfortable singing pop, rock, Motown, blues, rhythm and blues, soul, and even some country.

"I don't really get hung up on what genre something is," she said. "Audiences are very hip. They know what they like and what they don't like."

Doug Swiatecki, a jazz historian and photographer working on a book about the Toledo music scene, calls Collins "the hardest working singer in Toledo jazz."

"She knows how to work a crowd like nobody I've seen," he said.

Born at the former Maumee Valley Hospital in South Toledo in 1948, Collins was the oldest of nine children and grew up in Lansing, Mich.

Her late mother, Alice Collins, who died in 1989, used Lansing as a base of operations for her career as a jazz pianist, which took her across parts of the Midwest. Her mother also played organ in church. She performed with many greats, including jazz legend Jon Hendricks, the "father of vocalese" and the "James Joyce of Jive," who is considered a pioneer in scat.

Ramona Collins said her mother was one of her biggest influences and mentors.

"She always told me when you're on a big stage you have to look like you belong there," she said.

Collins said she accompanied her mother several times to the famous 2,700-acre Idlewild resort, sometimes called the "Black Eden of Michigan," when it was operated from 1912 through the mid-1960s. An outlet for Blacks during the Jim Crow era, it drew some of the nation's top African-American performers, then faded in popularity once the 1964 Civil Rights Act integrated resorts which had been segregated.

Ramona Collins said she loved singing around the house, and her mother saw the stage as a way of helping her overcome the powerful shyness in her.

"The reason I got into singing was because I was very, very shy," Collins said. "She would take me to jam sessions to get me over my shyness."

Collins began performing as a youth in Lansing and, at age 20, felt it was time to break off on her own singing career.

She said she came to Toledo in 1968 because the music scene — and, thus, the opportunities — were better than they were in Lansing.

Her reputation grew with regular gigs at venues such as the former Rusty's Jazz Cafe, a nationally known club operated by the late Margaret "Rusty" Monroe which featured live jazz performances seven nights a week for almost 40 years. Collins also became a mainstay at the former Murphy's Place jazz club downtown, which carried on the tradition of continuous live jazz for many more years.

Swiatecki said it was amazing to watch her pick up a microphone and sit in with that club's two best-known jazz artists, pianist Claude Black and bassist Clifford Murphy, often on an impromptu basis. He said Collins is unlike many of today's university-trained musicians, in that she grew up around greats such as Black and Murphy as a club performer.

"She learned in the clubs and on the road from her mother," Swiatecki said. "Ramona grew up with it and around it."

Fellow jazz singers spare few adjectives in their assessment of Collins and her impact on the local music industry.

Lori Lefevre Johnson calls Collins "the real deal" and said that in every way she is "a complete and masterful performer and human being."

"I am continually in awe of not only her ability to deliver a song in heartfelt and skillful ways, but the depth of her understanding of style, emotion, and technique," Johnson said. "I remember hearing Ramona many years ago at Rusty's when I was just beginning to sing jazz and was totally awestruck by her ability to hold an audience in the palm of her hand. Truly remarkable."

Kim Lynch Buehler said she was "blown away" watching Collins perform at Murphy's Place, and has learned a lot by watching and performing with her.

"Her ability to command an audience and make them feel like they're part of the show is something I pay very close attention to," she said. "I'm honored to share the stage with her and even more honored to call her my friend."

Another jazz singer, Sheila Fleming, called Collins "a consummate entertainer."

"She has her own unique style of song through her phraseology and tempo, and she never sings a song the same way twice," Fleming said. "She is an entertainer, performer, mentor, and teacher. She has and continues to take countless young musicians under her wing to teach them everything she knows about the business."

Fleming added this: "There's not a musician young or old who doesn't love working with her."

Fellow jazz singer Jean Holden was recently cited for lifetime achievements herself at jazz drummer Keith Bernhard's Second Sunday Jazz Jam and at the city of Toledo's Great Lakes Jazz Festival at Ottawa Park.

She jokingly remarked how female vocalists can sometimes be catty toward one another.

But not with Collins, whom she said gets "genuine respect and love" from other performers.

"She is such a blessing to the music scene. For so many years, we were both going different directions, not always performing to the same audiences. In the past few years, we have worked more closely around each other," Holden said. "I have such respect and love for what she does and who she is."

Now 81, Holden said she also admires Collins for her continued energy and her full booking schedule.

"I'm not sure she'll slow down anytime soon," she said.

Bernhard saw her perform many times while he was drumming at Murphy's, and at venues such as the Toledo Zoo Amphitheater.

He said he admires her for helping to maintain Toledo's jazz culture.

In the late 1990s, when Collins was president of the Toledo Jazz Society and Bernhard was a board member, he "came to recognize her total commitment to promoting jazz in her adopted hometown."

"There is no way to gauge the wide-ranging and intense impact that Ramona Collins has had on Toledo jazz and beyond, in Detroit and other environs around Michigan," Bernhard said. "The day will eventually come when she'll hang up her microphone, but I think we have an unspoken pact that neither of us will stop unless the other does, and that won't be anytime soon."

Brett Collins attributes her longevity "to her passion and the fact that she avoided the pitfalls that cut short a lot of her peers' careers."

He also said the family is lucky to have had a gifted jazz pianist for a grandmother, someone who saw his mother's "gifts early and encouraged her to use them."

"We were fortunate to have a mother who listened to her mother in that respect; seeing her develop and pursue her career while maintaining a home life was a great example of what is possible if you believe in yourself, put yourself out there and put in the work," Brett Collins said.