Like Dizzy Gillespie's Cheeks

Fifteen

In the late '40s, Ben Webster was getting his band, aptly named the Ben Webster Band, together to take his first-ever tour of Europe. By that time, Ben not only played piano in his band, but also composed and arranged the music. That's usually the way "cats" became leaders.

Two days before they were to leave for Europe, Ben received a call from his older sister, Elsa, telling him that his mother had had a stroke and he needed to come home.

By this time, Ben's conservative, rather successful business-owning father, who never liked the idea of Ben being a piano player in the first place, had passed away from a massive heart attack. Sadly, his father dying was the only reason Ben was able to attend Juilliard. His mother supported his desires, and with some of the insurance money his father left, Ben was able to pursue his studies.

Ben canceled the Europe tour, disappointing himself and his band members, who were now in search of new gigs for the time being. He bussed home to Alton for what he thought would be a brief stay. Naturally, he worked on his music charts the whole way, never seeming to be satisfied with the way things were.

Ben didn't understand what a stroke was or, for that matter, how serious they were. He thought it was some sort of flu, that it was just a matter of her temperature going down before she came out of it, so it was a shock to him that his mother had slurred speech, no control of the left side of her body, and couldn't remember who he was. He felt helpless and confused. He wondered what this wonderful, gentle, loving woman ever did to deserve this horrible episode.

As the days and weeks crept on, she only got worse. His mother's illness dragged on for about six months, costing Ben time away from New York, Paris, the West Coast, or wherever the jazz scene was heating up—as well as eating up what money they had left for doctor bills.

Since East St. Louis was about four hours and thirty minutes closer to Alton than Chicago, Ben would play with his New York buddies when they came to East St. Louis, and only on occasion, much to his sister's displeasure, would he make the five-hour trek to Chicago and gig on the weekend.

On one of his trips to Chicago, Ben met Clara Clarke, sister of drummer J. J. "Stix" Clarke. She was at the Lighthouse that night with a couple girlfriends enjoying her brother's band.

With one eye squinting from the smoke of a cigarette dangling from his mouth and a scotch waiting next to him on the piano bench, Ben sat at the piano during a break and furiously scribbled notes on a chart.

"Excuse me, Mr. Webster?" Clara said softly so as not to intrude. She looked back at the table where her friends were giggling like teenagers and signaled for them to shut up.

Reluctantly, Ben looked up. What he saw stopped the earth's rotation; all sound ceased to exist, and a flush of warmth enveloped his body, like a baby safe in the arms of his mama.

"Yes," he said, as he quickly, as if by instinct, grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and put it out.

"I'm sorry to bother you—"

"No bother," Ben interrupted.

"My friends and I really enjoy your music. As a matter of fact I saw you play in New York last year when I was visiting J. J." She stopped abruptly as if she didn't know what else to say ... Or maybe it was due to her overprotective brother eyeing her from across the room.

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Clara. Clara Clarke," she said hesitantly as she smiled and extended her hand.

"Are you a musician, Clara?"

"Oh, no. J. J.'s the only musician in the family. I'm going to be nurse. Well, officially, I am a nurse ... I just graduated," she said proudly.

Ben couldn't take his eyes off her. There was an innocence about her that was intoxicating. It didn't matter what she said, Ben heard music every time she spoke.

"Clara!" J. J. stepped in. "Let me talk to you." He grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. Ben stood up to watch as J. J. gave her the older brother speech, warning her to stay away from musicians.

Once he finished with Clara, J. J. was ready for Ben.

"Listen, Webster, I know you lonely up there taking care of your mama and all, and ya ain't had none in awhile and all, but stay the hell away from Clara. She ain't but twenty-one."

"Stix, you're a piece of work, man. You know that?"

"What the hell you mean?"

"I mean, last time I checked, it was a free country. That means if I want to talk to your sister and she wants to talk to me, that's too bad for you. As a matter of fact, I'm going to write her a song."

If a musician writes a song for a woman, it's a pretty serious thing. And it's certainly not something you joke about. It takes passion, warmth, and lots of love to pen a chart for a woman.

"The hell you are. You ain't writing no song for Clara."

"Hell I ain't! Calling it ... uh, 'Adoring Clara.' Yeah, 'Adoring Clara.'" J. J. stormed away, but as a true musician, he finished out the last set. It's in a musician's blood to play. And no matter what happens in his life, if he's got a chance to gig, he'll be there.

As it goes, J. J. had some astounding solos that night. Being a drummer, the aggression probably helped his cause.

Although the way they met was like one of those romantic stories from an old black-and-white movie, they had a bigger problem than Clara's brother. Ben had to go back to Alton and his sick mother the next morning.

Since Clara was a nurse, and Ben's mother was ill, Ben insisted that Clara come to Alton and help take care of her. She agreed. Problem solved.