Back when he was only 76, the veteran saxophonist, composer and educator was recognized as a Jazz Master by the National Endowment for the Arts. Nine years J later, he’s not slowing down. b y Stephanie Stein Crease IMMYVISIT WITH HEA here is a great photo of the actress Lauren Becomes the Last Great Bebopper Most?” A diminutive Bacall in a “What BecomesTH a Legend Most” jazz giant, Heath, named an NEA Jazz Master in 2003, is ad—she’s smiling, fabulous, ageless. A the last bebopper not just standing—but performing, similar image sprang to mind when I met arranging, conducting, composing, and traveling. Tthe octogenarian jazz musician Jimmy Heath. What Today, at age 85, Heath is also the last jazz musician caption could capture him—forever sharp, smart, hand­ who still lives in the Dorie Miller apartments, in Corona, some, funny… and forever, well, working? Maybe “What Queens. In 1964, he and Mona, his wife of 52 years, 30 March / April 2012 Jimmy Heath outside the Dorie Miller apartments, 2005 JIMMY 31 “All three Heath brothers moved there, into the same build­ were young. “‘I am really lucky,” he says, for the first of ing that Clark Terry, and Cannonball several times that afternoon. became jazz musicians. and Nat Adderley lived in. The But it took more than luck for Heath to create and At various times, Corona neighborhood—afford­ sustain a multifaceted career as a saxophonist, able, safe, near the airport, and full bandleader, composer, arranger, and jazz educator. either two or all three of trees—was ideal for the many Talent, a deep work ethic, a stubborn streak, and a worked together in musicians who gravitated there. great sense of humor kept him going through his Other neighbors included Dizzy challenging early years on the road as an African bands led by such Gillespie, Lena Horne, Ella American musician, changing musical styles, bouts with superb artists as Fitzgerald, and Louis Armstrong, drugs, and the loss of family, friends and colleagues. whose house is now a museum. Heath was raised in Philadelphia, a city that had a Dizzy Gillespie, Heath was a mover and shaker thriving jazz scene when he came of age in the 1940s. Howard McGhee, during the pivotal years when His parents, Percy, Sr., and Altheia, were from North and swing morphed into bebop and South Carolina respectively; his paternal great­grand­ Miles Davis, John Lewis, totally modern jazz, a story he mother was born during slavery. Percy, Sr., was an auto Kenny Dorham, and recounts in his 2010 autobio­ mechanic, but his passion was playing the clarinet in graphy, I Walked with Giants. the Elks Quaker City Marching Band. Altheia sang in the Clark Terry. When the When I spoke with Heath at his church choir and sometimes with the marching band. Modern Jazz Quartet home in December, he had just The family sang at the piano every night, and his returned from three weeks of con­ parents’ musician friends often came over to practice disbanded in 1975, stant traveling that took him and hang out. All four children studied an instrument. they formed almost around the globe. He’d Elizabeth, the eldest, studied piano; Percy, Jr., violin, gone to Novi Sad, Serbia, for one then double bass; Jimmy, saxophone; and Tootie, the The Heath Brothers.” concert with the Heath Brothers, drums. his working band with his younger Remarkably, all three brothers became jazz musicians; brother, drummer Albert “Tootie” Heath, who turns 77 at various times, either two or all three of them worked in May. “It took us almost 17 hours to get there. Then I together in bands led by numerous superb jazz had to come back for a concert at Flushing Town Hall. musicians—Dizzy Gillespie, Howard McGhee, Miles The next day I got back on a plane for 14 hours to go to Davis, John Lewis, Kenny Dorham, Clark Terry, et al. Japan for a week.” He returned home briefly and then When the Modern Jazz Quartet, the group Percy is most went to Washington, DC, to celebrate with the 2011 commonly associated with, disbanded in 1975 after 20 Kennedy Center honorees, notably his old friend, fellow­ years, they formed the Heath Brothers. Jimmy and octogenarian­saxophonist Sonny Rollins. Being at the Tootie have maintained the group (with younger side­ awards was one of many high points of a long, full life. men) after Percy died in 2005. Endurance is a family trait. Not just shaking hands with the Obamas and sitting When times got really tough for their parents near Meryl Streep, but also being seated with Ravi during the Depression, Jimmy and Percy were sent to Coltrane at one meal, and telling Ravi what his father Wilmington, North Carolina, to live with their grand­ was like “before anybody knew that John Coltrane was parents and attend high school. Their grandfather ran a John Coltrane.” grocery store; food was plentiful, but so were racial Heath’s living room is piled with books, CDs, and inequities. Wilmington had “hardcore segregation,” instrument cases. An iPod connected to a set of small says Jimmy. “It was sit in the back of the bus, the speakers is perched on the coffee table. Photos line balconies of theaters, and all that.” The all­black high every wall, illustrating a career that stretches back to school ended in 11th grade, and classes in higher math the 1940s. Heath points out pictures of himself along­ and science were not offered. When Jimmy was 16, his side Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie (“my mentor in music, in father sent him an alto saxophone, his choice. He joined life, in everything”), Miles Davis, and many others. The the school’s marching band, and learned quickly. Back piano is topped with photos of his children when they home the next summer, he studied with a teacher con­ 32 March / April 2012 At home in Corona, Queens nected with the Philadelphia Orchestra. “That was the extent of my formal training on the saxophone,” he says. The rest has been on the job. The summer after he graduated, he and some friends in Wilmington were invited to form a small dance band. They played at carnivals and for USO club dances: one night they’d play for the white club, the next night for the black. Later that summer, Jimmy moved back in with his parents and started gigging around Philly. Since many older musicians had been drafted, there were plenty of opportunities; Percy was in basic training with the Tuskegee Airmen. Pretty soon Jimmy joined a dance band led by Calvin Todd, a trumpet player. They played stock arrangements and built up their book: “You could buy a score and all the parts for 75 cents, and we made up head arrangements, and copied things off records.” In 1944, Todd’s band was the most popular dance band in the Philly area. After they’d gathered enough arrangements and confidence, Todd bought an old school bus and they booked their own tour of Delaware, Virginia, and the Carolinas. “We wanted to present our­ selves as a band, but we had no recordings—no one knew who we were. We’d show up at these places, and there were no people!” Heath recalls. They played gigs for as little as two dollars and survived on canned ham and biscuits. Tragedy struck one night when the bus broke down and they had to push it down the road. A New York City, 1967 soldier coming really fast crashed into the back of the bus and was killed. Though their bus driver was called down to the police station, they managed to get to 33 He also learned a lot about other things, especially from another sax player who introduced him to the new bebop records of Charlie “Bird” Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. Jimmy jumped on the style right away, lis­ tened to the records constantly and started copying Bird’s solos. “I was so enamored of bebop music at that time. I loved the way that Bird and Dizzy could play any­ thing they wanted, at any tempo. I heard them in Philly with Billy Eckstine’s band, with Art Blakey on drums, and Dexter Gordon and Gene Ammons in the band. They’d play bebop at intermission. We were so startled by their technique and the skills they had!” Towles let Heath take bebop solos—unusual music for the band’s dance audience—and Jimmy started making a name for himself among musicians. Bebop was a game changer. When Jimmy returned to Philadelphia after ten months of touring, he wanted to follow Dizzy Gillespie’s latest move. In 1946, Dizzy had started a bebop big band that was stupefying everyone on the New York scene. The band played swinging bebop charts and pioneering Afro­Cuban jazz charts and featured phenomenal soloists. Dizzy gathered the best young musicians to fill out his sections, and Jimmy did the same in Philadelphia. Visiting musicians often sat in with Jimmy’s band, Percy, Jimmy, and Tootie Heath, Bergamo, Italy, 1975 including—on a night Jimmy will never forget—Charlie Parker. Gillespie generously let Heath’s band play tran­ their gig. But the place was surrounded by state troopers. scriptions of some of his arrangements, and a couple of “We were so nervous, we had vibratos like Guy his arrangers even gave Jimmy charts. In 1949, Dizzy’s Lombardo’s!” personnel were in a state of flux, and Jimmy’s big band After the band returned to Philadelphia, Jimmy was had fizzled when both Jimmy and Percy were touring invited to audition for the Nat Towles Orchestra, one of with Howard McGhee’s Quintet.