Lance played jazz back in the ’40s…and ’50s…and ’60s…and ’70s…and on and on and on.
He remembers Jim Crow times, traveling to bars throughout the South to play in places where he couldn’t eat.
Although he’s nearly blind now, he still knows his way up and down a saxophone, and in and out and everything in between.
But the look on his face when he is listening to another great player…that’s the most beatific look I have ever seen on a human face.
Em Turner Chitty 