Christmas 14 years ago, my wife and I packed ourselves and our two-year old daughter into the van and drove back to Wisconsin to visit family. A week later, we were driving back to Seattle through the middle of Montana. Teresa, our daughter, was asleep, and, having grown tired of the children's music we'd packed into the stereo to keep Teresa from dying of boredom, I started aimlessly scanning the radio dial.
My expectations were low. The middle of Montana, and I'm going to find some decent music to while away these endless miles? Yeah. Right.
All of a sudden, the scanning stops on a radio station that's playing some Dizzy Gillespie. Wow! I'm stoked. Who would have thought, Diz in the middle of nowhere, Montana.
The song ends, and, without pause, another Dizzy song comes along. Way cool! A double dose of Dizzy. This could end up being the most enjoyable stretch of highway on the whole trip.
The second song ends, and on comes another Dizzy tune. At this point, something in the pit of my stomach started sinking. It hadn't dawned on me yet, but something was up.
At the end of the third song, the DJ came on and announced that Dizzy Gillespie had passed away. January 6, 1993. I'll never forget that date nor where I was on that day.
In remembrance, here's "And then She Stopped" featuring James Moody on saxaphone and flute.
My Trusted MOGs
nice lil tribute post to mr. dizzy gillespie. it's amazing what an impact music has on our lives, so much so that when legends pass away we'll always remember where we were.