Two of the most treasured musical moments of my life concern the late great saxophonist, Sonny Stitt. Both took place in 1959. The first occurred on a Jazz at the Philharmonic concert in Edinburgh. Sonny always played well. But on this occasion he had played so brilliantly, so spectacularly, that when he got on the bus as the last member of the troupe, to return to London, everyone to a person, including Ella, stood up on the bus and applauded him. Imagine it! That people like Lester Young, Dizzy Gillespie, Bill Harris, would jump up from their seats, screaming and applauding enthusiastically in appreciation of what they had heard that night, gives you some idea of the incredible musical genius of Sonny Stitt.

The second musical moment I refer to came during a record date in Paris. Norman Granz had decided to document Sonny's great talent at this point in his career by recording him almost immediately after the tour. I was pleased that he elected to use my trio as the rhythm section for the session.

I want to draw your attention – those of you who own this recording – to the tune called I Can't Give You Anything But Love. After having played several beautiful choruses of the tune, Sonny gave way to the trio and allowed us to make our musical statements. The moment I refer to occurs upon Sonny's return after the trio solos. He starts back as if he had never stopped playing, reels off the first eight bars, and then proceeds to play the next complete section as one continuous solo line, never once breaking the cadence of his ideas. To this day I still marvel at this magical and spontaneous burst of pure musicality, and I continue to bring it to the attention of young players, stressing to them that this is an excellent illustration of sustained and cohesive musical thinking from the standpoint of improvisation. It is a musical moment that is indelibly inscribed on my inner senses, one that I know will never leave me.