Last scribblings: an autograph hunter's collection goes under the hammer
For Erkki Rapo (1946-2004), gathering autographs was a life's work, and it made him a celebrity of sorts in his own right.
By Miska Rantanen
"And then there's this Bruce album... on vinyl... there seem to be a few scrawled names on this sleeve, too. Let's put it in with these others. What do I hear for this pile of albums?"
Auctioneer Mauri Sinisalo is not one to hang about: we are here to put under the hammer the personal effects of one Erkki Rapo. Rapo died in February at the age of 57, with no immediate family, and his estate is being auctioned off to pay outstanding debts and death duties. The prized collection that it took Rapo above forty years to put together is going to be knocked down in the space of a little over sixty minutes.
Hands go up from the audience; music fans are in seventh heaven. The clutch of miscellaneous vinyl albums, topped by a Bruce Springsteen recording with the signatures of The Boss's E-Street Band on the sleeve, is eventually knocked down for just 80 euros.
Erkki Rapo, known more familiarly to concert-goers and celebrity-followers as "Uncle Eki", was without a doubt Finland's most fanatical autograph-hunter, a man who dedicated himself to his hobby with a passion that blotted out almost everything else.
Those who visited Rapo at his apartment home have described the place as chaotic, and there was probably understatement in the word. This also comes through in the nature of the goods heaped on the auctioneer's table in downtown Helsinki.
There are autographs everywhere and on everything: in notebooks, on taxi receipts, neatly in wooden frames, less neatly on the back of supermarket receipts (along with the purchase of a couple of litres of milk and some sausage soup), attached to publicity photos...
What was the secret of Uncle Eki's success? The gift of the gab for one thing, and also a shrewd gift for advance planning, reveals Jukka Häkkinen. Häkkinen served in his spare time as Rapo's driver and court photographer during the autograph safaris from the late 1980s until Uncle Eki's death.
"Eki would always be clear in advance about the star's schedule: he knew which hotel they were staying in, what time the sound-check was supposed to start, and what route they would take from the hotel to the gig", explains Häkkinen. The information came from promoters and journalists, whom Eki would bombard with calls until he got the goods.
Then when the star was within striking range, Eki would shoulder his way through the throng, thrust a small Helsinki flag into the celeb's hand, and use all the powers of persuasion at his disposal to secure a signature.
Some celebrities, Tom Jones for one, got to know Uncle Eki - and his sidekick Häkkinen - by name, but in all honesty many simply scribbled their autograph to be rid of the over-zealous Finnish fan.
"He would go on and on until he ground out a favourable response", laughs Häkkinen. It did not always work. Sometimes the star would get uptight at the pressure. On a gig in Helsinki back in 1989, Bob Dylan had had enough of Uncle Eki's constant traipsing around after him, and he allegedly yelled out "Stop following me!"
The next day, when Dylan was signing albums and scraps of paper for fans outside his Helsinki hotel, he spotted Eki in the crowd and promptly abandoned the whole autograph-signing exercise.
The same scenes were played out seven years later when His Bobness came to the Pori Jazz Festival. Dylan's young fans got his autograph, but Eki got the cold shoulder. Rapo recalled the incident, saying that Dylan had grunted that he didn't like giving autographs to adults, but preferred children. This is perhaps an indicator that for once Dylan's gift for reading people let him down.
The search after thousands of famous-name signatures was a life's work that left little room for anything else.
Even though many of the autographs were signed "To my best friend Uncle Eki", in reality Erkki Rapo led a lonely, hermit-like life. Whenever he was interviewed - for Rapo himself became something of a C-list celebrity in his own right, always turning up in pictures of the famous - Uncle Eki never forgot to point out that there was a vacant spot for a wife in his household.
A series of odd-jobs as roadie, club MC, embassy limo driver, and as a porter at the university were secondary to his one real pursuit in life.
Rapo reportedly sold off some of his most cherished treasures simply to keep body and soul together. This fact - and some doubts about the provenance of some of the items up for auction - may have reduced the prices paid last week.
"Eki nearly always had half a dozen or more autographs on him that he was forever trying to sell off. If the price seemed too steep to the potential buyer, he would offer a photocopy instead. When we were at a gas station on the way to and from a gig, he could march into the kitchen and ask the chef whether he could get a meal in return for this or that autograph", recalls Häkkinen.
Häkkinen himself got nothing out of his role besides a few autographs and petrol-money.
"But then again when I was out and about with Eki I got to meet and shake hands with a whole galaxy of world stars. Chatting with them was more important for me than just the autographs on a bit of paper."
Erkki Rapo's autograph collection could be admired by the public back in 1988, when an exhibition was arranged in the Martinus Hall in Vantaa.
His first catch was Paul Anka, whom he collared at the Linnanmäki Amusement Park when the American teen idol arrived here for a concert in 1959.
In 1966, he captured The Beatles in London, and his list of conquests extended to the likes of Jim Morrison, Frank Sinatra, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, Placido Domingo, and Bill Haley, of Rock Around the Clock fame. Aside from the brush-offs from Bob Dylan, he always regretted not being able to persuade Dean Martin to part with his autograph.
In Rapo's later years, the chase frequently had to be called off as his health deteriorated, and he died in hospital from complications of diabetes.
Helsingin Sanomat / First published in print 20.6.2004
MISKA RANTANEN / Helsingin Sanomat
miska.rantanen@hs.fi
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| 22.6.2004 - THIS WEEK |
 Last scribblings: an autograph hunter's collection goes under the hammer |
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