You Must Believe In Spring

I was bummed to learn that the great alto saxophonist, Frank Morgan died this past Friday. I came to appreciate Morgan late in his career - if you can call playing in the Warden's Band at San Quentin for thirty years a career - during a particularly dark time in my life. I felt stuck in a job I hated that payed just enough to keep me from being homeless. Most of my friends were either off at college or finishing their degrees. I was living in a camper, not even a trailer, and had to take showers at my brother's house after the shower/tub fell through the floor to the ground below. I'd recently ended a year-long relationship with a girl who would stalk me for weeks after. I had no television, which turned out to be a blessing. When I was forced to spend time at "home" all I did was read, write and listen to music. I started listening to a late-night jazz show on the local NPR/Classical music station because I had no emotional attachment to jazz at the time. Listening to my personal record/CD collection was beginning to depress me. Every song either cruelly reminded me of happier times or they fed my sorrow.One night I came home from a night out in Tampa feeling particularly low, turned on the radio and heard Frank Morgan for the first time. The song was When You Wish Upon A Star, from his album A Lovesome Thing. I had no idea that this trite little tune could catch me by surprise as it did. In the moment it was the most beautiful song I'd ever heard. The next day I went out and bought the CD, and played it obsessively.Two years later I bought Morgan's new release, You Must Believe In Spring, and was not disappointed. As a collection of ballads for alto sax and piano, it is unequaled. Morgan recruited five of the best pianists for this album; Hank Jones, Barry Harris, Sir Roland Hanna, Kenny Barron, and Tommy Flanagan.By this time I was living with Michelle (with whom I've since married) in Gainesville, Florida and things were looking up. One day I heard that Frank Morgan would be performing at the University of Florida auditorium and fruitlessly tried to convince someone to go with me. None of my friends at the time were into jazz, so I decided to go by myself. When I got to the show I was disappointed that more people hadn't turned out for the show. i also noticed that the first few rows were empty. People seemed afraid to get to close to the stage for some reason. I made a bee line for front and center and spent the next hour and a half completely transfixed. I was so close that I could hear Morgan's breath pass through the sax at the end of a long note. The set followed the structure of You Must Believe In Spring, intense yet quiet ballads for sax and piano. After a while I felt that Morgan was playing for only me. I know it's a cliche, but since everyone else stayed near the middle or rear of the auditorium it really felt like I was the only one there. I left feeling elated but also a little sad that I couldn't share the experience.Thanks Frank for helping me believe in spring.