Dan Morgenstern

"As an unintended result of the Nazi occupation [of Denmark, where Morgenstern lived at the time], jazz became more popular than ever—a phenomenon universal to countries under the Hitler jackboot. In France, Django Reinhardt enjoyed the greatest acclaim of his career, and even in Germany, there were clandestine groups of jazz fans who'd meet to listen to records. Jazz was anathema to the Nazis. who considered it a mongrel affront to Aryan "culture," the product of an unholy alliance between Africans and Jews. But to those who hated the Nazis, jazz stood for freedom, for democracy, and for the spirit of America, which, especially after Pearl Harbor, seemed to embody hope for a better future."

"While most first-time visitors wanted to see the Statue of Liberty (arriving by ocean liner, I'd already seen it) or the Empire State Building, I wanted to go to Fifty-Second Street, that legendary block of jazz clubs I'd read so much about. It wasn't much to look at from the outside, though the names on the various marquees and sandwich boards made me drool. History tells us that by the spring of 1947, the street was well into its decline and fall, and to be sure, there were signs touting strippers and comedians. But having Sidney Bechet, Charlie Parker, and Billie Holiday all on the same block wasn't shabby. I soon discovered that it was possible to hear a lot of music from outside the clubs, if their wasn't too much traffic noise and the doorman didn't chase you away. Eventually I learned how to nurse a beer through several sets of music by drinking from the bottle, which was opaque, instead of from a glass, which the bartender could easily spot when empty, or, if I wanted to stick around all night, to tip the bartender well on the first transaction, after which he'd leave me alone with my empty bottle."

"Then the next thing we did, which was in 1955, Art Tatum had a trio at Storyville [in Boston, Mass]. I really wanted Tatum solo. Guitar and bass – it's a fine – but I wanted to hear him himself. So we propositioned him. That turned out to be something that he immediately responded to. So we made sure that we got the best piano on campus and had it tuned to a T. I wrote a piece about him. The concert was terrific. ... Tatum played wonderfully. Then when we took him back to Boston and thanked him profusely, he then said – and this was something that I think jolted me and gave me maybe in the back of my mind the thought that I might want to get involved in this kind of thing – he said, "I want to thank you, because this is the first time I've done a solo concert all by myself." What he meant by that was that he had of course performed publicly solo piano before, but always as part of a program where there were other attractions. 1955 is a year before his death. It's astonishing."

"My first assignment for Down Beat was to do an interview with Milt Jackson, whom I didn't know and who was not a very easy interview. I asked several of my musician friends. But the fortunate thing was that he was recording for Atlantic, and Down Beat arranged for me to attend the session. He was recording with Coleman Hawkins, whom I had at that time already befriended. In fact, Coleman did a very big thing for me in terms of establishing me in the musicians' circle. Coleman was known for never buying anybody a drink. It's not that he was cheap, but he once explained it to me. He said, "You buy somebody a drink. Then they buy you one. You wind up drinking more than you really want." But he was noted for not doing that. We had become friendly. Coleman had this big, booming voice. Even in a noisy bar you could hear him over the crowd. His voice really carried. He said to me, "Danny. What are you drinking?" Everybody turned around and looked. That was like my initiation. Anyway, Coleman was recording with Milt Jackson. I had a little bit – he could see that I – after the session, when I started talking to Milt, that Milt was – he didn’t know me from Adam. Who is this guy? I was not – I couldn’t say that I was an experienced interviewer by then. So Coleman came over and just put his arm around and said, "He’s okay." Then Milt opened up."