It was early that same month when I got a call. It was from Dusty Springfield in England, and she informed me that her record company, Philips, had awarded her four tickets to the annual Carnival in Rio. She asked me to go along. She said, "Do you really want to see people dancing in the street? Well, join Tom, my brother, Madeleine Bell, and me for a holiday." There were no gigs on the books during that week, so I accepted her offer for mid-February.

We met in New York City at La Guardia Airport. We had both traveled from cold climates and had on big bulky sweaters that we wished we could pull off. We flew together on three different planes and boarded, slept, disembarked, filled out papers, showed our passports, and ignored the stares as we enjoyed each other's company.

We finally landed in the land of the samba. Rio de Janeiro was more that I imagined, and it was a welcome change from where I had just been. It was hard to realize that freshly fallen snow now covered the East Coast of North America in a midwinter storm. Only hours away I was basking in a tropical climate.

I really liked the strip that ran from one end of the beach to the other. You could walk from Ipanema to Copacabana. From every point that we traveled, we could see the large statue of Christ on Corcovado with the arms extended. Sugarloaf Mountain was off in the distance and looked just like a big sleeping bear. It was thrilling just being there. We met up with Tom and Madeleine and had a wonderful week, going to parade after parade and seeing some of the grandest costumes I had ever dreamed I'd see. And the music was nonstop. Up and down the strip there was one band after another. Conga rhythms were heard each time they came and danced by, everybody joining in the parade of colorfully dressed natives and tourists with the same festive spirit.

This was an incredibly fascinating time in my life. I had new friends from all over the world and this was my first trip where I was at leisure - and I had Dusty to thank for it.

From Dancing in the Street: Confessions of a Motown Diva by Martha Reeves and Mark Bego,
Hyperion Books, New York, 1994.

More recollections from Martha