The Music That Never Leaves Me
Listen, at the end of this essay:
Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzie Gillespie and so many more great jazz artists. I still hear their music in my mind.
From the time I was a little boy, music has been part of my life. I can still picture it now, sitting at the kitchen table while my mother moved around the apartment on her day off. The radio was always on, always tuned to WNEW, which played all the popular songs of the time. Back then, we listened to AM radio because FM hadn’t really arrived yet.
The announcers had a way of introducing the songs that made them feel special, like each one was a little gift. And oh, the voices we heard. Frank Sinatra. Ella Fitzgerald. Nat King Cole. And yes, one of my mother’s favorites, Perry Como.
The music played while we had breakfast. It played while I was drawing or building things or just watching my mother. Those quiet mornings with her and the music became part of me. I didn’t know it then, but they were shaping something inside me that would last my whole life.
Years later, when I was a teenager, my brother and I would go to Lewisohn Stadium on 138th Street in Manhattan. It was part of City College, what we now call the City University of New York. It was an open-air stadium with a big stage, and they held concerts there during the summer. The tickets were inexpensive, which made it possible for kids like us, and for working-class families, to attend.
One night, we went to see Ella Fitzgerald. She was already a big star, and that night, she sang all her famous songs. It was wonderful. At the end of the concert, she came out for a few bows and then left the stage. The crowd began to leave, but a group of us gathered near the front of the stage and started to chant, “Ella, more, more!” And would you believe it, she came back.
There we were, standing around the stage as she returned and began to sing just for us. One song after another. It felt like a dream. I still get tears in my eyes thinking about it, even now, so many years later.
Eventually, she gently explained that the stagehands had a contract and needed to stop working soon, so she had to end. We applauded, we cheered, and we let her go. But that night never left me.
We saw other great performers there too. One I remember clearly was Louis Armstrong—Satchmo. He was amazing. There were others too, though their names have slipped away over time.
What made those concerts so magical wasn’t just the music. It was the setting. The open air. The subway ride to get there. The walk through Harlem to reach the stadium. The crowd was mixed—Black and white, young and old—and everyone was welcome. These weren’t concerts for the rich. They were for people like us. For the kids from the Bronx and upper Manhattan. For the families who worked hard and needed something beautiful in their lives.
I can still feel it.
Much later in life, when I was older, I found my way to a jazz club on the Lower East Side called The Blue Note. That’s where I listened to Dizzy Gillespie, one of the greatest jazz trumpet players of all time. Sitting there, in that small dark room, the music felt like it was alive in the air.
Music has always been more than just sound to me. It has been memory. It has been love. It has been comforting. And it has been a thread that runs through every part of my life.
Even now, in the quiet moments, I hear a melody from long ago, and I am right back there—with my mother in the kitchen, or standing by the stage with my brother, or sitting in the glow of a jazz trumpet. The music never left.
And it never will 
There is more about music that I plan to write
And if you want a taste of heaven, listen:

You were so blessed to be exposed to such great music. The Ella Fitzgerald concert sounds other worldly! Get yourself an Alexa, and you can start asking Alexa to play you the songs that you remember so fondly. It’s so easy to listen to music that way.
Music is the shock absorbers in your car, the sweet in your tea, and the rhythm in your veins. You can listen and dance lying down.
The memories age, but the colors are still fresh.
Have a wonderful day.