Cityzen.tv: Because of Basie

April 1965
Stonybrook University; Stonybrook, NY

The powers-that-be at Stonybrook University were
in a quandary. The Count Basie Orchestra, legendary swing-era big band, was scheduled to perform a concert on campus in two days. Stonybrook was
brand-new and lacked the facilities necessary to hold said concert.

It was late on Sunday night when Pete got the phone call. The voice on the other end of the line wanted to know if Pete could build a stage in the gymnasium. Pete was cocksure with youth, and guaranteed the frantic administrator that with men and lumber, he most certainly could construct a stage fit for the Count.

The eighteen-year-old freshman had gone to the storied Brooklyn Technical High School, and in no time at all was able to produce the necessary schematics. The crew of young men began early Monday morning and worked around the clock.

The last nail was hammered into place as Basie’s tour bus rolled into the parking lot.

Out of the bus lumbered a massive black man. He was led into the gymnasium and shown the newly constructed podium. The fat man eyed the stage critically. He then slowly climbed upon it and walked to the center. Suddenly he leaped in the air; over and over again he jumped, his great rolls of blubber quivering every time his feet impacted the platform. When he was done, his chest heaved and his forehead shone with perspiration. Having apparently deemed the makeshift stage suitable for the Count, the fat man turned his attention toward Pete.

“You built this?”

“Yeah,” replied Pete in his gruff-toned Brooklynese.

The fat man reached into his back pocket, and with his sausage-like fingers procured two front row tickets to that night’s concert.

Pete left the gym and started toward his car. He was filled with the satisfying exhaustion of accomplishment. His white t-shirt was yellow with sweat, and emanating from his body was the signature aroma of contractor; a ripe funk mixed with sawdust and cheap beer.

He was contemplating the tickets in his pocket when his eyes registered on the figure walking across his path. He would later recall – in his rough-hewn vernacular – “the longest goddamn legs you ever saw.”

Pete, never one to be shy, called out, “hey gorgeous!”

Startled, the young woman stopped and looked at him with wide, blue eyes.

Pete gazed into those eyes and said three little words: “You like jazz?”

Her name was Sue, and she did indeed like jazz. And that moment would turn out to be the most serendipitous moment of each of their lives – or rather, of their life.

This October they will celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary. They still flirt like the teenagers they were in ’65. And when I, the youngest of their three children, see them do that, I roll my eyes upward, smile, and think, ‘All because of Basie!’