Happy Father's Day to the Fathers whose children never knew them

And then there was a very special man who saw his children only from afar. One who never got to play the role of dad but never forgot the two sons he had fathered once he was made aware of them by their their mothers whom he had met along his travels.

Although the children were raised well by step-fathers, he knew they shared his blood. He saw his likeness in their faces and watched them grow when his path took him through their separate towns.

Amazingly the two boys ended up attending the same college and grew to be best friends. One day he sat on a bench outside a building at the university and saw them exiting together after class. "It was like looking into a mirror of me in my past," he said. "I couldn't believe that the two young men didn't know they were brothers." Then again, maybe something special drew them together and they shared common interests.

He never got to shoot hoops with them or teach them to play the saxophone like his dad had done with him. Unknowingly, they probably grew up listening to his music and admiring his talent, eventually seeing him on TV and even possibly in a movie.

In some cases, men like these were wonderful, unselfish fathers who missed out on the joys of participating in their children's lives. Instead this one followed in his father's shoes, playing music throughout his life. Eventually his talent and many moments of serendipity led to a life on the road, to special places representing his country in an Army band and on to a successful, professional career. The baritone saxophones he owned were his children; his bandmates his family.

Telling this story, staring off into the past, tears formed in his eyes. Living as a musician has its rewards. It also has its sacrifices.

Copyright © 2013 Susan Cross – All rights reserved

Did I say deadlines?

I'm staying up 'til 2 AM and every day I find one more detail that needs to be addressed. Just when I thought I was closing in on my final 'to do' list and getting my manuscript ready for the editors. I'm not complaining, just frustrated.

Looks like I've secured more photos of Leroy Cooper with Ray Charles from the olden days that will definitely add value and credibility to the context of Leroy's memoir. They're worth waiting for. In addition, I finally made contact with Cynthia Scott, a former Raelet, who just returned from Japan. I'll be doing an interview with her on Monday.

As if that's not enough, and it's not, I will also be interviewing renowned baritone sax player Howard Johnson who played with Charlie Mingus, Hank Crawford, Miles David, Taj Mahal and other jazz greats. Sharing their love of the baritone, he and Leroy were close so I can't leave him out.

View Cynthia Scott's Official website and listen to current music: http://www.cynthiascott.com/Cynthia_Scott/Home.html.

View Howard Johnson's Official website, sit baack and listen: http://hojozone.com/.

This close to playing with Count Basie

Over the years, Leroy Cooper met and mingled with so many jazz, blues and big band musicians. Count Basie was one of the favorites. Everybody wanted to play with his band. Leroy told me a story about an opportunity to play with Count Basie that slipped through his fingers in just a few moments.

"Count Basie used to have a song called Every Tub. Every tub sits on its own bottom. That meant that everybody had to give it all they got. That was a wonderful band. I always wanted to play in that band. I was about 5 or 10 minutes from it; we were on tour with them in London. The baritone player got detained in some way so they asked me to sit in. But by the time it took for me to get on the bandstand, he popped in the door. That’s the closest I ever got."

The bari player was a friend of Leroy Cooper's. When Leroy left Ray's band to go work at Disney, he tried to get him to take his place but it didn't work out.