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Prime Times Weekly publication of the Mail Tribune , Medford, Oregon They call him the... Satchmo of sand Trumpet player rocks Atlantic City's sunbathers AP photos Fred Ehrlich, 75, wearing his characteristic wrap-around sunglasses and Charlotte Hornets cap, plays his trumpet on the beach in Atlantic City, N.J. He started performing on the beach in the late 1940s and has been doing it ever since. Although six uncles who were musicians wanted him to go into that field, his parents wanted him to enter one of the professions. He became a dentist, but never lost his love of music. Top : Fred Ehrlich plays his trumpet in this photo taken during his early years of entertaining on the beach. A friend of his, a guitar player, convinced him to join a beach band. Ehrlich, a lifelong bachelor, says he enjoys the interaction with other people. By JOHN CURRAN The Associated Press ATLANTIC CITY, N.J . -- Trumpet player Fred Ehrlich didn't plan to stay long when he brought his horn onto the beach to play for sunbathers one day in the late 1940s. Fifty years, two trumpets and several hundred renditions of "Mack the Knife" later, the retired dentist with the beat-up horn, the 1,000-watt smile and the Louis Armstrong voice remains a summer fixture on the beach at Providence Avenue. Two days a week, June through September, he holds forth with a beach-chair band of sunbathers. Some have known him for 40 years, some for 40 minutes. Everyone's welcome. Armed with marimbas, cymbals, tambourines and maracas, they accompany Ehrlich as he belts out "When the Saints Go Marchin' In," "When You're Smiling," "New York, New York" or dozens of other songs, on request or otherwise. There's no sheet music. Ehrlich doesn't need it. He plays from memory. "He livens up the whole beach," Sal Panettieri, 70, of Emerson, says, watching from a nearby beach chair on a recent Thursday afternoon. "No amplifiers, no loudspeakers, just an old-time horn blower. On a sunny afternoon, it couldn't be better." Ehrlich, 75, is an American original. The son of a Baltimore strip-club owner, he took up trumpet at age 11 and never let go. His six uncles, all musicians, wanted him to be a musician, too. But his parents wanted him to be a "professional man." Ehrlich became both. He went to college and dental school, opened his own practice and later became an assistant professor of dentistry at the University of Maryland. All the while, he was playing trumpet at night at Piccadilly, his father's club. When Ehrlich was still a student, a guitar-playing friend asked him to join him on the beach. Ehrlich brought along his $40 Conn trumpet, and an open-air tradition was born. His friend eventually moved on, but Ehrlich stayed. He has cut down, though, from five days a week to two. His home base is Towson, Md., and he plays professionally in the Baltimore area with the Eddie Kane Band. When he's around, that is. Each January, he heads to Hollywood, Fla., where he plays the beach for three months. Then, after a couple of months back home, the lifelong bachelor spends his summers here. Once he hits the beach, he is two parts jazz, one part vaudeville, and all ham. Wearing blue-and-white swim trunks, beach shoes, black wraparound sunglasses and a Charlotte Hornets baseball cap, he bends his taut, tan body into a question mark as he blows the horn. His sister, Nina Rosenthal, 77, sits in a beach chair with a cymbal planted in the sand. She whacks away, keeping time. Others tap marimbas and tambourines against their chair arms as they sun themselves and sing. "Are we ready? Watch my foot!" Ehrlich says, tapping it on the sand as he breaks into the opening bars of "New York, New York.'' During a pause, he exhorts them: "Lemme hear ya'!" Next it's "I Just Called to Say I Love You," the Stevie Wonder song. "I need some voices on this one. Here we go." Those hearing him for the first time are intrigued. "What is it, a family reunion?" Diane Barrett, 55, of Cranford, asks, peering over her sunglasses. "Sounds great. Sounds like fun. Sounds like I want to join in." Joining in is very much encouraged. Ehrlich loves a party. Sometimes it's toddlers. Sometimes it's old-timers. And sometimes it's ice-cream vendors. "The ice-cream men come over to me and request numbers. When I play them, they open their packs and say, `Take anything!" says Ehrlich, grinning ear to ear, his perfect white teeth shining. "Any day can start out as a quiet day. But by the end, you don't know what's going to happen. I had a 75-year-old lady do a striptease ... . We've had flamenco dancers join us. Everything," he says. Five years ago, a young man and his father sauntered up. "Play some jazz," the young man said. "How's `Sweet Georgia Brown'?" Ehrlich asked. "Fine." When he finished, the young man thanked him. "My name is Harry Connick Jr., and I'm playing at Bally's Grand tonight. I'd like you to join me onstage." Ehrlich demurred. "I can only play when I'm in sand," he said. He got free tickets, anyway. Still, he has no regrets -- and no plans to give up his routine as Satchmo of the sand. His profession saved him, he said, acknowledging he'd either be "tops or starving" if he'd stayed in music. "I've been able to have a profession. I retired at 59, and I've been able to play my music." Prime Times front page Mail Tribune front page Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, Oregon USA