![]() |
||||||||
![]() |
||||||||
| It was a beautiful sunny day in New York City; we were crossing Amsterdam Avenue on 96th street heading east to Columbus Avenue. As we approached the newsstand on 96th street off Amsterdam, I noticed something familiar, a stately elder gentlemen talking with the newsstand attendant. As we got closer I recognized him and we walked over to say hello. I called his name and he smiled as I reach to shake his hand, then I looked at my son, and said, " Josh, this is Max Roach the great jazz musician." Max smiled at Josh shook his hand and said hello; Josh smiled and said hi. Max joined us as we headed eastward towards Columbus, It struck me, what a nice man he was, and I was also surprised to see how much he had aged. We always see photographs of celebrities, and their image and age stay fixed in our minds. I loved the music that he, Clifford Brown and Sonny Rollins made together I actually got to see him years earlier. It was June 5th 1991, at a benefit concert " The Third Annual Evening with Friends of Charlie Parker," at the Village Gate, Dizzy Gillespie was there. Max didnt play he strolled in late in the show looking cool, walked by the stage and sat down at a table with a very beautiful companion, as Dizzy played. As the three of us strolled along, I was trying to impress him with the fact that I was a fan and with how little I knew about jazz. I was also trying to press upon Josh the importance of understanding in whose presence we both were in. Josh was not impressed, and to my surprise neither was Max, the both were kind of ignoring me and engaged in their own little world. Eventually, I would get it I was not there to impress anyone or to get Josh to recognize the importance of the great contribution this man made to music and society. I was there to observe, record and cherish this historic moment in time, to eventually share with Josh when he was old enough to understand, perhaps while introducing him to some of Maxs and Clifford Browns music. I can tell him the story about the day, when he was about three-years-old in the spring of 1999, we met the great jazz legend Max Roach at a newsstand in the neighborhood. And how the two them, Max and Joshua Myles, held-hands, talked, laughed and played together on West 94th street as we headed home. © Richard K. Manigault 2006 |
||||||||
|
|
||||||||
|
Please feel free to review our parent company TMG's promotional page.
|
||||||||