Legendary jazz trumpeter Maynard Ferguson died yesterday. I was privilaged to hear him in person twice with his band. What a talent, what a showman. And a class act. The first time I heard him some friends and I (I think we were still in high school) drove down to the Kansas City area to a concert at a college. We arrived early and were wandering around campus before the show. From across the way we hear the unmistakable sound of Maynard, warming up by playing scales. We followed the notes in the air and found our way to a dressing room in the back of the auditorium. We stood gawking at the open door until one of us found his voice and said "Uh, Mr. Ferguson?", then we asked him for his autograph. He asked how many of us there were, saying he did not have much time to get ready for the show. When told there were only three of us, he most graciously signed an autograph on an album. Nice guy. Most high school and college trumpet players I knew back in the day wanted to play like Maynard: high and bold.

A tribute on Power line is here.