Tootie was quite the person (as was Jimmy –– never had the chance to meet Percy). 13 or 14 years ago, our daughter and son-in-law lived in an apartment in Chicago right around the corner from The Jazz Showcase. As luck would have, The Hearth Brothers Band (with pianist Jeb Patton and bassist David Wong) were playing at the club so we walked over after dinner for the first set. There were 4 of us, one other couple, and the Band. They talked with us, invited us to move up to the front of the bandstand, talked with us after each song, and said they'd answer any questions we had after the set was done. And they did. I spoke with Jimmy, my wife and daughter spoke with Tootie (who made them laugh –– guffaw, even –– several times. The set, by the way, was pure delight. It was the third time I had seen the group in 5 years and it was the best show I had seen them play (not the other times were so poor). A great memory! Percy, Jimmy, and Tootie were true masters!
This piece is so about life written in the moments after the death of a dear friend and bandmate. You have given us his zest for life and celebrate him in a way that will keep him alive in my memory. The three marvelous musicians, Percy, Jimmy, and Tootie, the Heath Brothers, have all passed on, but they live through the records they made. I will listen today to my favorite track from “As We Were Saying”: Fats Navarro’s “Nostalgia”, with Percy playing cello, and Jimmy playing a fine chorus on tenor, and Tootie keeping it together. They were giants.
Such a heartfelt remembrance. Albert Heath became a favorite of mine in the early 1990s when I was living in Palo Alto and just discovering the music. I initially heard him on "Ben Webster Meets Don Byas," the CD reissue of a bluesy 1968 session on the German MPS label that featured Albert in a rhythm section with pianist Tete Montoliu and bassist Peter Trunk. Not long after that, I learned that a group led by Tootie would be appearing in a free show at the Stanford shopping center to publicize that season's Stanford Jazz Workshop. (I later discovered that he was an instructor at the Workshop summer camps for over 30 years.) The free show was a wonderful chance to see Tootie's skills and consummate restraint up close. After the set, I sheepishly asked him if he would autograph the booklet of the aforementioned Webster-Byas CD, which I'd brought along for that purpose. Glancing at the group photo on the back, he chuckled briefly before signing and handing it back with a sly grin. What a career. What a life.
We all owe these masters like Tootie and Billy Hart so much. I am glad you have been able to play with and learn from both of them.
Tootie was quite the person (as was Jimmy –– never had the chance to meet Percy). 13 or 14 years ago, our daughter and son-in-law lived in an apartment in Chicago right around the corner from The Jazz Showcase. As luck would have, The Hearth Brothers Band (with pianist Jeb Patton and bassist David Wong) were playing at the club so we walked over after dinner for the first set. There were 4 of us, one other couple, and the Band. They talked with us, invited us to move up to the front of the bandstand, talked with us after each song, and said they'd answer any questions we had after the set was done. And they did. I spoke with Jimmy, my wife and daughter spoke with Tootie (who made them laugh –– guffaw, even –– several times. The set, by the way, was pure delight. It was the third time I had seen the group in 5 years and it was the best show I had seen them play (not the other times were so poor). A great memory! Percy, Jimmy, and Tootie were true masters!
This piece is so about life written in the moments after the death of a dear friend and bandmate. You have given us his zest for life and celebrate him in a way that will keep him alive in my memory. The three marvelous musicians, Percy, Jimmy, and Tootie, the Heath Brothers, have all passed on, but they live through the records they made. I will listen today to my favorite track from “As We Were Saying”: Fats Navarro’s “Nostalgia”, with Percy playing cello, and Jimmy playing a fine chorus on tenor, and Tootie keeping it together. They were giants.
Such a heartfelt remembrance. Albert Heath became a favorite of mine in the early 1990s when I was living in Palo Alto and just discovering the music. I initially heard him on "Ben Webster Meets Don Byas," the CD reissue of a bluesy 1968 session on the German MPS label that featured Albert in a rhythm section with pianist Tete Montoliu and bassist Peter Trunk. Not long after that, I learned that a group led by Tootie would be appearing in a free show at the Stanford shopping center to publicize that season's Stanford Jazz Workshop. (I later discovered that he was an instructor at the Workshop summer camps for over 30 years.) The free show was a wonderful chance to see Tootie's skills and consummate restraint up close. After the set, I sheepishly asked him if he would autograph the booklet of the aforementioned Webster-Byas CD, which I'd brought along for that purpose. Glancing at the group photo on the back, he chuckled briefly before signing and handing it back with a sly grin. What a career. What a life.
lovely comment, thanks!!