SHE WAS MY SISTER

WHEN I FIRST MET TINA, we had an instant connection. Back in those days, her name was “Little Ann.” I was sort of the crazy, funny one, and she was looking for a laugh. She had a real healthy, bust-out laugh. She never thought she was a great singer. She was a rough singer. [But] she was a great performer. Nobody could do it like her. She was an entertainer from her heart. We were all 21, just trying to make it.

Ike was very serious. The Ikettes and Tina would rehearse all the way in the car, rehearse in hotels. We would rehearse any place that he called a rehearsal. We didn’t realize we were making history because it wasn’t glamorous. We went to our gigs, traveled by bus, went to the hotel, rehearsed, and the next morning did the same thing over again. It was just trying to keep surviving, focusing on becoming the best.

I’ll never forget this reader [fortune teller] told Tina back in the Sixties that she would live in Europe and she would marry somebody there. She held on to that. She was looking for hope. We were all concerned about [Ike’s abuse]. Tina was like a sister to me. We would try to get her to leave. We talked about it all the time, every time it happened. Even though it didn’t happen in front of us, we knew what happened. Back in the day, you didn’t know what a person was going through behind doors. Eventually, she came out and told her story. It was inspiring to a lot of women — even though your past might be muddied up, you can overcome it. I was happy for her, proud with my chest sticking out. It always inspired me: If she’s still doing it, maybe one day I’ll be able to do it. I will always love her. The bond that we have will always be in my heart.