Open Writing

While on holiday in Toronto in 1968 I spotted a deal in a travel agent's window - two days in New York, staying at The Boston Hotel on Broadway, including a night at the Copacabana night club (the Stylistics group was top of the bill), a three course dinner, a visit to the Empire State building and a tour around Manhatten Island. Not bad for 40 dollars! Also included were the flights to and from New York, and a limo from the airport.

When we arrived in New York - me, my then wife and brother-in-law - we dumped our cases at the Boston, then man, we were on Broadway! Right there and then we decided to do the town. The first bar we came to looked quite inviting from the outside. We decided to have some alcoholic refreshment, so we strutted into the bar. A black barmaid was serving drinks. Then we noticed that almost everybody else in the bar was black, and most of them were men. In those days there was still quite a bit of segregation in the States. All eyes were on us. We stood out like a pint of milk in a brewery.

We were the only white folk in there, which didn't matter to us. At that time there was none of that black and white nonsense in the UK. We ordered our drinks and the bar lady pleasently served us. As I looked along the bar I spotted a famous drummer, Papa Jo Jones who played with the Basie band. I asked the bar lady if it really was Jo Jones the drummer and she said "Yes, that's Mr Jones.''

I asked the bar lady to ask Mr Jones and his friends if I could buy them a drink. They accepted, all raising their glasses to me. After a few minutes Mr Jones approached us and said "Thanks for the drinks man. Do I know you?''

I told him that we had never met, explaining that I was a fellow drummer from London and I knew how great he was. He called his mates over and introduced us. Then he said he would be playing with Milt Buckner at Ronnie Scott's Club in London the following week, and asked if we would be in town. I said I thought I would be. He asked if I would call in and see him, and I said I would love to.

After the formal introductions we drank and danced in earnest. I didn't see money going over the bar. Maybe the bar lady was giving us free drinks, or maybe Mr Jones and his friends had a tab. Boy oh boy, did we get drunk! We missed the show at the Copacobana. We missed the Stylistics and the meal. We managed to make it back to our hotel, only to find that we had lost our passports. Luckily we got them back when we returned to the bar. We had dropped them on the floor and the lovely bar lady was keeping them for us.

We got our trip around Manhattan Island. We went to the top of the Empire State building. Our hangovers were as terrific as the view.

I didn't get to see Mr Jones at Ronnie Scott's. Shame. But what a night in New York! It proved that jazz musicians around the world are all brothers.