It took him 71 years to get there, but Preston Stewart is finally where he wants to be: Center stage, armed with a mike, singing everything from “Rocky Top” to “Ave Maria” for diners and drinkers.

Preston Stewart at his new job (Jeff Swinger photo) | ZOOM |

        Until recently, he had been doing it weekends at D'Andrea's Conservatory at Watertown Yacht Club. Right now, he's negotiating with a couple of night spots. And loving every minute of it.

        But getting there, well, it's been a long and winding road, one that took him from the Carolinas to Michigan to Tennessee and finally Cincinnati in 1959.

        As Mr. Stewart understates, “My life has been one hell of an experience.”

        No doubt. The 71-year-old newlywed (October, 2000) has a bachelor's degree in zoology and master's degrees in psychology and counseling. He's been a blue collar worker in Detroit, on the faculty and dean of men at Lane College in Jackson, Tenn., and, for 32 years, a teacher and counselor in Cincinnati Public Schools.

        Through it all, he's been an entertainer. Singing in church, playing sax here and there, jumping onstage to sing in clubs, doing karaoke at the drop of a liner note.

        Oh, and a club and wedding reception DJ on the side to supplement his income when he was a single parent raising three kids, working under the name Pres in such places T.J.'s Mineshaft, Viking, Sha Rha Lounge and “every VFW and Knights of Columbus hall in town.”

        What he really wanted to do was sing, but “I had to make a decision a long time ago. I had custody of three kids, 16, 12 and 9. Did I want to chuck the weekly paycheck for the iffy life entertaining? Could I take that chance with my kids?”

        He couldn't. He stayed with CPS until he retired and, at 70, built up the courage to launch a new career. “I finally decided to practice what I was preaching. For 32 years, I told students that failure is inevitable if you don't try. I decided to go after it with all four feet.

        “My mom used to love to hear me sing. She kept saying "Pres, you have a gift. You should use it.' It took me this long to listen to her advice.”

        Mr. Stewart comes by his talent naturally. “My great, great, grandfather was a slave. A house slave. He learned to play violin on a Stradivarius and played for the master's guests. He taught my great grandfather. My father's father also played. My father's whole side of the family, they were all musicians.

        “I played saxophone and never sang a note until I was in college. We'd go down to this little bar for a few beers and one night, I opened my mouth and this tenor voice came out. Up until then, I didn't know I could sing.

        “But after that, songs would run around my head all day. I'd wake up singing. And when I went out and sang, people would clap, but I still didn't take it seriously. It was just a hobby then.”

        And anyway, he was too busy teaching and counseling, though getting the job in the first place was a struggle: “I was interviewing for a job teaching science at Cutter (now SCPA), and I could tell the interviewer was uncomfortable. The school was 60 percent white then.

        “I finally said, "Is it because I'm black? Are you afraid if one of them calls me a n----, I'll deck him?'

        “He turned 50 shades of red, then said yes. I assured him I would be upset, but that I could find a way to let the child know it was inappropriate, that I was sophisticated enough not to overreact.

        “I got the job.

        “I thought then, as I think now, if we're going to feel good about one another, we all have to be a committee of one. To do something for race relations, you have to show people. That's my spirit.

        “I think I was a good teacher and counselor. I formed relationships with students, hoping whatever was in me, whatever made me want to learn, would rub off on them. I tried to make them see a light at the end of a tunnel in lives where they had no light all.”

        But that's all in the past. His life is onstage now, gussying up in his burgundy tux and doing shows full of big band, ballads, country, R&B and blues, even now and then some overwrought aria.

        Opera? In a bar? “You should hear them when I do it. They go crazy. And honestly, not a night goes by that someone doesn't request "Ave Maria.' I try to close with that.”

        Fine. But before he closes, how about 10 questions?

        If I had done this sooner, I think ...

That I probably would have been very successful, as long as I had the same concentration I do now.

        The biggest surprise has been ...

The good feeling I've gotten from people who enjoy my show — the response has been so wonderful.

        My advice to others thinking of doing it ...

Go for it. Don't put it off the way I did.

        If nothing comes of this ...

At least I'll be satisfied that I tried.

        I wish someone had told me ...

To do it sooner, and then been really persistent, insisting that I do it.

        The No. 1 difference in my two careers ...

        It's a lot more stressful educating. Entertaining is an exuberance you can't explain. It's like your first scuba dive, when all of a sudden you realize, "Hey, I can breathe under water.'

        If I knew then what I know now ...

I would have accomplished a lot more. And made fewer mistakes along the way.

        The hardest part of the career-switch ...

After a while, education becomes a real part of you. So much that you really hate to give it up. I'm going to miss it because I put my heart and soul in it and I really love young people.

        My one regret ...

Easy. That I didn't do this sooner.

        I wish you had asked me ...

        I hate that question. I can't think of a single thing. Can we pass on that one?

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