The jazz widows
Creators: name: Bradford, Melba Joyce
Publisher: name: No Publisher Supplied
Year: 2013

description: While women have played significant roles within the genre of jazz music, most have been celebrated as vocalists. However, the stories of women who supported their artist husbands in partnership have not, to my knowledge, been documented.    My thesis, The Jazz Widows, documents the role of women who spent their lives with their husbands, jazz musicians, and their participation in the success of their husbands’ careers. This musical art form called jazz is the music created by the black man. This music is one of the most important in America, because it is indigenous, originating from another Africa, a musical genre called “the blues.” Just as Italian music was bought from Italy, and Greek music was brought from Greece, neither ever facing the challenge of being taken or changed, the blues, which evolved into jazz, stand. Whereas the staff and certain notations were used in its organization, these are the elements that, I believe, some white Americans want to use to justify their ownership. This is not enough to claim anything, let alone ownership. This music had to do with the ear of its founders, its creators.     Essentially, because of the importance to the culture of black people, the women are involved in the preservation of the art form, our legacy, our contribution to this country. One would believe that this would be sufficient proof that, just as other cultures contributed to America, so have we.    The made-up story of racism must be defeated. For it is nothing.    My interest in the role of the jazz widow was inspired by the late Mona Hinton, the wife of Milt Hinton, a legendary bassist who was featured with the renowned Cab Calloway and his 18-piece orchestra. The band traveled across the United States and abroad. However, their road trips in America were mostly traveled by bus, which took them to areas that were historically dangerous, due to racism. For black people, especially 18 black men and women, Jim Crow was alive and well. Another hanging would only be another heinous event (an event that was never justified), just for sport, as it had been many, many times in America.    From 2005 to 2008, I was the featured vocalist with the Count Basie Orchestra, touring across the country and abroad. The men in the band were very young, in their twenties and thirties, except the leader, Bill Hughes, John Williams and myself. As we traveled by bus, stopping for food and other supplies, I listened to these men as people who were conscious of the lurking dangers, tales, memories and the feelings of black men in America, feelings of those aware of what could happen. In my heart, I felt hurt that even after so many years and so many changes, they had to experience this kind of abuse. After all, we pay taxes and participate in everything that the law requires of its citizens here in America. Why in the 21st century should we be exposed to such treatment, made to feel this inhuman way?    This is the true reason the women went on the road with their men. They were there protecting their men and the dreams of their men. The Monas who travelled with their men.     Having the experience of watching a documentary of the road trips of Cab Calloway and knowledge of Mona Hinton’s story about how her husband, Milt, who was featured with the Cab Calloway Orchestra, traveling across the country and what they had to do in order to stay safe. Although Cab was very light skinned, this was only one portion of the band’s protection. He would, most likely, not be attacked. They would park the band bus some distance from a restaurant for safety. Mona was actually a roadie and a security guard. That’s what we call assistants who perform errands as the band sits and waits for whatever needs to be done. One black person is not a threat, especially a woman. In this case, Mona would go to the back of the restaurant and purchase food for everyone. As Mona and I spoke about the challenges of riding on the bus with all these men, my heart sank. These are not the words of Mona, but a woman knows the heart of other women. We know the story of an American life and of the mistreatment of black men.     As I revealed that I had seen the documentary, she only had this to say, “Melba, please don’t let them forget me.”     Over the course of two years, I personally interviewed eight jazz widows, recording their accounts of their lives, struggles and accomplishments. Like the music we created, so revolutionary in spirit, so is the spirit of a black woman who is in love.     I am confident that the reader will appreciate the depth of the jazz song, this road that many of these legendary artists forged with the help and steadfast dedication of their wives.     Thank you.  Melba Joyce  Jazz artist and author