All That Jazz

MY BIG FAT MUSICAL DREAMS

Mom and Dad taught us that every Sunday was the Lord's Day, and that Saturday night was the time to get ready for the Lord's Day — to get our Sunday clothes arranged, take a bath, and study our lessons for Sunday school. Still, my religious life as a boy in Cleveland was a rather nominal one. My real interest in the church wasn't so much worshiping God and studying His Word, but playing in the church orchestra.

   Around this time, both Clarence and I were getting pretty good on our instruments. We were taking weekly lessons and learning our way around a lot of great classical music scores.

   I enjoyed the clarinet, though my first choice had been the alto saxophone. I loved the cool, mellow sound of that instrument. My idol was Johnny Hodges, a sax player who had songs like "Jeep Blues" and "On the Sunny Side of the Street"

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that were out of sight. However, my dad's brother, Albert Jones, who had been a first clarinetist in the Negro Symphony Orchestra of Chicago, urged my dad to make me take up the clarinet. "They don't use saxophones in symphony orchestras," Uncle Albert said. "You start that boy on the clarinet, and if he ever wants to play a saxophone, he'll have the foundation to do it." And so, despite my initial protest, I became a clarinetist.

   Clarence and I got better, and we began getting invitations to play at other churches. We played duets and were identified as promising young musicians.

   A few years later, when Clarence and I entered our teens, our parents decided to move the family to Oberlin, which was fine by us. My brother and I continued to study music and took special training from professors at the Oberlin Conservatory.

   I played clarinet in the Oberlin High School band. And later Clarence and I accepted an invitation to join a local dance band. Grandma Mungeon bought me a new alto saxophone, and I became the first saxophonist in this newly formed nine-member jazz orchestra headed by Wesley Stewart, a fine musician who worked at Oberlin College.

   Soon we were playing for dances, parties, school proms, and nightclubs. I was thrilled, because I had dreamed of someday becoming a famous jazz musician.

   Sharply decked out in white shirts, gray jackets, and black trousers, our band traveled throughout Ohio and into Pennsylvania. We played for both white and black audiences, and it gave us a sense of fulfillment and power to see people enjoying our music. Some crowds would dance, while others would sit there bobbing their heads. But the common factor

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was that we were in control — our music provided pleasure, entertainment, and escape for a variety of different folks.

ON THE WILD SIDE

   Of course, when we played outside of churches, we were not always guaranteed a trouble-free performing environment. In fact, a lot of the clubs and parties where we entertained could get downright dangerous.

   There was one dance that started off fine enough. We were playing a smooth song, couples were swaying, and everything seemed to be all right. Then suddenly, a heavyset woman burst into the dance hall and caused a commotion. Apparently, she saw her husband in the arms of another woman. And, man, was she furious! In one swift motion, she picked up a large clock off of a counter and hurled it at her husband. I guess you could say time was flying. The clock hit him in the back, and when he turned around, she began to chase him around the room. The scene escalated into a free-for-all, with people screaming, cheering her on, and throwing glasses, ashtrays, and whatever other objects they could put their hands on. If you haven't already figured it out, most of the people at that dance were pretty sufficiently tanked up with booze.

   Meanwhile, our band continued to swing away, until it became obvious that this thing was getting out of hand. So we grabbed our instruments and took cover under some tables until the chaos subsided.

   It was a wild night, but we still loved the lifestyle. Most of the time, our gigs were not as dramatic.

   The music of the jazz world had me in its grip. I was a slave to it. Even now, I recall the many times I would stand on a

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dance floor listening to an outstanding orchestra play and wishing it were mine. I actually prayed to God that one day He would enable me to lead a famous orchestra, like Duke Ellington, Count Basie, and others.

   My brother got a chance to play with Basie. Clarence was a great trumpeter, and a few years after leaving our group he joined the U.S. Army and played in the military band down in Fort McClellan, Alabama, where he was stationed. He got to play with some of Count Basie's band members down there, and he was so good that they passed the word on to Basie. One day, after he left the service, he got a call from Basie himself asking him to join his band in New York. My brother, however, had started a family by then and didn't have a great interest in leaving home.

   Still, back in the day, circa 1939, we were both obsessed with becoming renowned players. I knew in my heart that I would one day be playing before enthusiastic crowds at places such as the Apollo Theatre in Harlem. I wanted it all — the fame, the money, the excitement of traveling the world with my horn. No one had bigger musical dreams than I had.

GOD WALTZES IN

   About this time, a series of evangelistic meetings were held at my grandparents' church, Mount Zion Baptist in Oberlin where my mom and dad had also become members. One evening my brother and I and several friends attended the service. That night the evangelist preached a powerful sermon. He warned the congregation about sin and the need of getting right with God. Moved emotionally, I along with my brother and some other friends, went forward after the service.

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The Christians gathered around and prayed for us.

   As I knelt at the altar that night, I felt I should join the church and be baptized. I was sure if I did that, it would ensure me a place in heaven when I died. When we rose to our feet, the pastor and people began to shake our hands and rejoice that we had agreed to be baptized and become members of the church.

   But one woman went deeper than mere congratulations. She called me aside and said, "Howard, I am so glad you are going to be baptized and become a member of the church. You will be giving up the dance orchestra now, won't you?"

   Her question caught me off guard; but I answered her right away, because I had no intention of doing any such thing. "No, I am not going to leave the dance orchestra," I answered. "There is nothing wrong with it. I have studied music very hard. Now this opportunity has come to me, and I'm going to stick with it. I want to become a famous band leader someday."

   Actually, I still did not know what it meant to be saved from sin, to be born again and live a separate life for the Lord Jesus Christ. I was only performing an outward ceremony without any inward conviction.

   One month later we attended a Sunday night baptismal service. The church was filled to capacity. As the service began, the people who wanted to be baptized moved slowly one by one to the pool. I waited eagerly for my turn.

   At last my brother and I were immersed. After coming out of the water, we hurried back to the dressing room and changed our clothes. With our heads still wet, we went out the back door of the church into a waiting car and sped away to play for a big dance. But as we drove along, to my surprise,

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a strange feeling of guilt overwhelmed me. I realized in my heart that what we were doing was wrong. With effort, I pushed the feeling aside and soon lost myself in our discussion of the big dance gig.

   Time passed by swiftly for me in those days. The orchestra was already becoming popular, and we filled more and more important engagements. We were now in the public eye, and we gloried in the good feeling it gave us. We reveled in the great reviews we got in the local press. At last, it was as though we were on our way up the ladder to musical success. The future was bright.

   Then, suddenly, everything started to go wrong. Or should I say, go right?

Chapter Three  ||  Table of Contents