In the world of jazz, there are legends, and then there’s Louis Armstrong. Known affectionately as “Pops” or “Satchmo,” he wasn’t just a musician—he was a cultural icon who brought joy to millions. To the kids in his humble New York neighborhood, though, he was simply Uncle Louis. Denise Pease, now 67, recalls fondly in an exclusive interview with Closer Weekly: “We’d shout, ‘Uncle Louis is home!’ He’d hand out 50-cent pieces, telling us to save for college. But let’s be honest, we’d race straight to the candy store!”

With his magnetic personality and unmatched musical talent, Louis Armstrong didn’t just play jazz—he revolutionized it. In an era marked by racial tension and segregation, he became a bridge between cultures, earning respect from people of all backgrounds. “Louis wasn’t chasing wealth or luxury,” explains Ricky Riccardi, director of research collections at the Louis Armstrong House Museum. “He understood what truly mattered in life. Whether he was on stage or off, his love for humanity shone through. He’d often say, ‘I just want everyone to love everyone.’”

But behind the charm and the trumpet was a childhood defined by struggle. Born into poverty in New Orleans, Louis faced hardships that would have broken many. His father abandoned the family, and his mother battled health issues, leaving him to grow up with his grandmother in one of the city’s toughest neighborhoods, known as The Battlefield. “It was a place where danger lurked around every corner,” says Riccardi. “Despite this, young Louis found ways to help his family, even scavenging through garbage to put food on the table.”

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Life took a dramatic turn on New Year’s Eve 1912. At just 11 years old, Louis impulsively grabbed his stepfather’s gun and fired it into the air to celebrate. The police quickly intervened, and he was sent to The Colored Waif’s Home for Boys. What could have been a tragic end became the beginning of his musical journey. “That detention center gave Louis structure and introduced him to music,” explains Riccardi. “Within six months of being released, he was already playing with a brass band. The cornet he picked up there would change his life forever.”

Building a Legacy

From those early days, Louis Armstrong went on to become a global sensation. Switching to the trumpet, he mastered the art of New Orleans-style music, performing at parades, dance halls, and riverboats. As his reputation grew, he joined big bands, traveling across the nation and refining his signature gravelly voice and scat singing. “Louis didn’t just play music; he created a language that defined jazz,” says longtime friend Dan Morgenstern in an interview with Closer.

As Louis gained fame, he began challenging racial barriers. He became the first African American to demand equal treatment, refusing to perform at venues that wouldn’t allow him to stay overnight. He also pioneered the way for black artists by hosting a nationally sponsored radio show. For three decades, Louis performed hundreds of shows annually, spreading the joy of American jazz worldwide. “He was a trailblazer, breaking down walls long before it was popular,” notes Riccardi.

By the 1950s, however, some in the black community criticized Louis for his cheerful demeanor and message of universal love. They saw it as passivity in the face of oppression. “This criticism cut deep,” Riccardi reveals. “Louis never sought to assimilate. Everything he did celebrated his black identity.”

It wasn’t until the 1957 Little Rock Crisis, when nine African American students were denied entry to a segregated school, that Louis publicly voiced his frustrations. “He was livid,” says Riccardi. In a bold move, Louis called out President Eisenhower during an interview, recounting his own painful experiences touring the segregated South. “It was a pivotal moment in his career,” Riccardi explains. “As the most beloved African American performer, he dared to challenge the government. Today, nearly 50 years after his passing, Louis is recognized as a civil rights pioneer.”

A Simple Life

Despite his fame, Louis remained deeply connected to his roots. He cherished the modest home he shared with his wife, Lucille, in Corona, New York, from 1943 until his death in 1971. “His manager tried to convince him to move to a luxury house on Long Island, arguing that it wasn’t fitting for a superstar,” recalls Morgenstern. “But Louis was firm. ‘This is my neighborhood,’ he said. ‘I’m not leaving.’”