Before she was known as Marci Lee, she was Marzetta Freeman — a radiant young woman born in 1940 in Los Angeles, California, to Curtis and Lillie Freeman. The only child of hardworking parents employed in domestic service for affluent LA families, Marci’s early years were often spent in the loving care of her grandparents, Edmund and Ellen, a preacher and evangelist. Their home rang with gospel hymns and faith — the perfect cradle for a girl who would grow into one of the most distinctive contraltos of the 1950s rhythm and blues scene.

 

Music was in her blood. Her father Curtis was a Pentecostal singer and evangelist, and young Marci soaked up the sounds of Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Louis Jordan and other swing and jazz greats on the radio. At Fremont High School, her powerful voice drew instant attention — deep, warm, and unmistakable. She sang in both the regular and a cappella choirs, and soon joined a local doo-wop outfit called The Echoes, alongside Edward DeVold, Elmo Jones, and Miles Grayson. (Grayson later noted that the name might have been inspired by Los Angeles’ Echo Park.) The group’s chemistry sparked — and grew even stronger when they added another future legend, Darlene Love (then Darlene Wright).

 

Through promoter Mabel Weathers, The Echoes landed their first record deal with Jake Porter’s Combo Records in early 1957. Of four recorded songs, two were released: “Aye Señorita” and “My Little Honey,” both featuring Marci’s sultry, commanding vocals. The remaining two tracks, “Take My Hand” and “Have a Heart,” surfaced later on collector’s compilations, revealing a young singer already blending gospel emotion with nightclub sophistication. Though “Aye Señorita” failed to chart, it introduced a voice that could not be ignored.

 

Weathers soon secured a second chance for the group — this time with Specialty Records, under the legendary Bumps Blackwell. The sessions produced the haunting ballad “Someone” (with an intro inspired by Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata) and a moving rendition of “Over the Rainbow.” Both singles earned positive reviews in The Cash Box review magazine and brought The Echoes a wave of attention, performing alongside the likes of The Penguins Jessie Belvin, and The Platters across Southern California.

 

But like so many young Black vocal groups of the 1950s, The Echoes hit a wall. Specialty Records founder Art Rupe had shifted his gaze toward flashier prospects — funneling his studio muscle behind acts like Little Richard, whose Here’s Little Richard LP had just exploded off the presses — and relegated The Echoes to background duty behind acts like Little Clydie King. The label’s energy moved upward while the group’s momentum sputtered. A dream gig at the Apollo Theater slipped through their fingers when funding fell short — another heartbreak in a decade full of them for promising R&B hopefuls. By year’s end, the sisterhood splintered: Darlene Love found her next chapter with The Blossoms, and Marci Lee struck out on her own, signing a six-year solo deal with Specialty — ready to gamble on her voice, her name, and her future.

 

At the same time, Marci’s striking beauty was opening other doors. She was a Beauty of The Week for Jet Magazine and a pinup girl for publications like Jive and others. As a model and pageant contestant, she became a graduate of John Robert Powers Charm School and competed in Miss Bronze Los Angeles, a glamorous showcase of rising Black talent at Hollywood’s Moulin Rouge nightclub sponsored by The Omega Psi Phi Fraternity. During the 1958 competition, she performed in the talent portion before an audience that included Sammy Davis Jr., Frank Westmore, and Nat King Cole himself. Cole was so impressed that he introduced her to Eddie Beal and other executives at Capitol Records — “the House That Nat Built.” Soon after, Marci broke her contract with Specialty and signed a five-year deal with Capitol.

 

That move brought her into the orbit of Johnny Otis, the “Godfather of Rhythm & Blues” who was noted for discovering talents like Marie Adams and Etta James and had just released the hit record “Willie and The Hand Jive” the previous year. The chemistry between Johnny and Marci was instant. In January 1959, they recorded four tracks together, including the infectious “Castin’ My Spell” — a swaggering Bo-Diddley-beat duet that climbed to No. 52 on the Billboard Hot 100 and became one of Otis’s final Capitol hits. Marci’s earthy, magnetic vocals were also showcased on “Telephone Baby,” hailed as a “sleeper hit” in The Cash Box review magazine and a fan favorite in The Netherlands, where it was featured in Tuney Tunes magazine in July 1959.

 

Soon, Marci joined The Johnny Otis Show, performing on his KTLA television revue and NBC’s Music Shop with Buddy Bregman. Her charisma made her a familiar face on Los Angeles screens, and Ebony Magazine featured a three-page spread on the rising star. Hollywood noticed too — Doris Day invited her for a film screen test, and Falstaff Beer made her the face of a national ad campaign.

 

In clubs around LA and later Las Vegas, Marci captivated audiences with her signature rendition of “Over the Rainbow,” her contralto voice shimmering with both control and ache. Those who heard her live often noted her ability to hush an entire room with her commanding presence, stunning vocals and charm. Her mother Lillie would later recall that admirers like Marlon Brando frequented her shows — but fame wasn’t Marci’s only dream. At the height of her ascent, she chose family over the industry, marrying and continuing to perform locally at venues like Club Harlem, The It Club, and The Swinging Lantern eventually relocating to Las Vegas where she subsequently remarried and resided until her passing in 2024. 

 

Though her recording career was brief, Marci Lee’s impact endures. Her work with The Echoes and Johnny Otis captured a pivotal moment when gospel-trained Black female singers were reshaping American music. Her artistry lives on in stories she shared with her grandson Ashley Faatoalia, a recording artist she inspired and mentored in his own musical journey. To this day, Marci Lee’s voice — smoky, soulful, and spellbinding — still echoes through the grooves of her records and the hearts of those who remember her.