My grandfather passed away recently. Not too long ago actually, just about a week ago. I didn’t know him very well but I still felt that he was a part of the family. The only things I really knew about him were what were told to me by family members. Self-centered, arrogant bastard, that was still somehow lovable. His brief time he spent dabbling in the musical world of the fifties and sixties really seemed to be his peak, and boy did he take pride in it. Interviewing musicians and what not.

We didn’t know each other well, but I somehow seemed to win over his 1975 Lincoln and his fine pair of brown loafers that he believed could win over any woman he approached. Great, thanks for the car I guess, even though it only got eight miles to the gallon. Apart from that I was also left with a box. A box that appeared to be filled with scraps of paper and folders. I didn’t think much of it.

One day out of boredom I decided to take a peak. Perhaps to try and find a piece of treasure he might have hid in there so no one could find it. Fingers flicking through endless sheets of paper, I didn’t find anything. What caught my attention was the dark “De” and “1956” my index finger landed on. I stopped, and looked at it. Curiosity soon took over and my eyes became fixated on the lines of text.     

December 16, 1956

Dear Mr. Coltrane,

I know that you are a very busy man so I will keep this as brief as possible. It has been three weeks since we last spoke, and yet I still feel like we spoke just a few hours ago. I am extremely grateful for allowing me to interview you and learn more about your world. Not many other people can say that. I’m not one for publishing everything I hear in hopes of making a quick buck, so everything you spoke about with me is safe. The music you’re doing is great. Actually, better than great, it’s fantastic. I have a feeling I spoke with a future super star. Anyways, keep up the good work trane. Perhaps we can become better acquainted as both time and our careers move forward. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Perhaps we can see each other again soon.

Sincerely,

Paul H. Hennion

I couldn’t seem to understand why he would keep this. Plus, who was Mr. Coltrane? I had never heard that kind of name before. Whoever he was, he was a pretty interesting writer. Actually, more organized than anything. He attached each one of his responses to the letters my grandfather sent to him. Behind each of my grandfathers letters another one attached and written in different handwriting which I could only guess was that of this Coltrane, which was faded almost to the point of unreadability. He didn’t seem to add much to his responses. He more or less just acknowledged what my grandfather. It seemed a little hard to believe that these guys were actually good friends.  I found it uninteresting, yet I was still intrigued to continue reading.

May 29, 1957

Mr. Coltrane,

It was great running into you yesterday. I’m glad to hear that everything is going well. I’m also excited to hear your first album! I’m sure it must be exciting for you as well. You seemed a little off though from the last time we saw each other. As if you were sickly looking. Just know John that as a friend, I’m here for you. If you ever need to talk or get something off your chest, you got me. It stays between us. Hope to hear back soon.

Sincerely,

Paul H. Hennion

Huh. Whoever this John Coltrane was, my grandfather seemed to have been pretty close to him. I began to question if that name should be familiar to me or not. It somehow sounded familiar, yet this was the first time I remember ever hearing it. I continued to read on.

July 7, 1957

John,

    I had a feeling something was up. Do you think that stuff is going to make you a better musician or something? ‘cause it won’t. What do you expect to get from drinking yourself to sleep every night? This could really hurt you in the future. And not just you, probably your career as well. I am glad you opened up to me about this John. I’m gonna help you get through all of this. Let’s meet up soon.

Sincerely,

Paul

This guy, John, must've been like every other musician of the day. Drinking and snorting his way to the top. Sounds like an average drunk to me. But he must’ve been close to my grandfather to tell him about that in the first place. They must’ve been close enough for my grandfather to slowly become more informal in each one of his letters.

September 20, 1957

John

    It’s good to see that you’ve cleaned up a bit. I noticed that you started going back to church. That’s great. To have something to turn to. By the way, I listened to your new album. Brilliant, as always. “Blue Train” could blow up, it’s a great piece of work. I wouldn’t be surprised if people, your fans, began to call you “trane”. I personally like it. You know the press is going to probably begin recognizing your stardom so don’t be surprised if you get requested for interviews and performances. I’m going to be away for a little while. I’ve gotta take care of some business overseas, but we’ll keep in touch.

Your friend,

Paul

Now THAT is a name that sounds familiar. “Blue Train”. I’ve seen those words together. Somewhere. I leaned over to look at the highest shelf in the old closet in my grandfathers bedroom. Resting on that shelf were stacks and stacks of vintage records. I stood up and grabbed the one that stuck out from the others by the quarter of an inch. I blew off a thick layer of dust and there it was. “John Coltrane, Blue Train, Blue Note 95326”. That man on the cover was Coltrane himself. I have to say, I didn’t really imagine him to be African-American. I wanted to see what my grandfather was talking about however. If this piece of work really was “brilliant”. I moved out to the living room where I spotted the polished, brown, antique record player that was sitting on a shelf. I placed the record on top, dropped the needle on it, and hoped that I didn’t break it. As the music began to play I was more astounded with how I was able to get the machine to work rather than the music that I was hearing. It sounded just like smooth jazz. I felt that it was only appropriate read the rest of my grandfathers letters while hearing the tunes of quite possibly his best friend in the background. I grabbed the last few unread ones, laid on the couch and continued to read some more.

April 4, 1965

John!

    It’s been a while old friend. I hope everything is well. When I was abroad, I could overhear people talking about what I swear was your name and your music. You’re a global hit! A jazz legend if you will. I know you may not see yourself as one, but believe me you are. I heard you were going on tour with Miles Davis too. He reminds me of a younger version of you. I just hope he knows that he’s gonna be performing alongside a legend. I hope we can catch up in person. It would be great to see you again.

Your friend,

Paul

At this point I really started to feel a bit dumb for not knowing who this John Coltrane was before. Even while hearing his music being played. That was when I really started to think about how my family really saw my grandfather. We all saw him as this old curmudgeon, but according to his letters, he seemed to have lived a pretty fine life. Although I guess it would be hard to see that based on the only things that he left us after he passed. I had one sheet left, so I began to read.

July 10, 1967

John,

I was just thinking about you recently. I actually ran into Alice a few days back.  She told me some things that were a pretty big shock. Liver cancer? That’s pretty serious. I still can’t seem to wrap my head around the thought. But you’re strong, I know get through it. You’re a tough man to bring down John Coltrane. I’m in Chicago on a business trip, but I should be back in a week. As soon as I come home, I’ll stop by to visit ya. Get better soon ol friend.

Best wishes,

Paul

The music stopped soon after I read that last line. That was the last letter that was written to John by my grandfather. I found out later than John died of liver cancer just a week after my grandfather wrote that letter. I couldn’t imagine what he went through when he heard the news. He lost a friend and his beautiful music. I never would’ve thought that this man would have had such a prominent impact on my grandfathers life. I’ve never listened to jazz or payed much attention to my grandfathers stories about his life in the music world, but after his last signature read, I really wish I did.

    I soon found myself packing the letters back into that cardboard box where they came from with such precision that it seemed no one had ever even touched it. I picked up the box and began to walk out the door, but stopped myself halfway outside. I turned around and went back inside to look around one last time. Before that day I had never really appreciated the wisdom and knowledge that my grandfather had that was overlooked by the rest of my family. He lived an incredible life that no one else was able to see. Not so much as what he did, but the people he met and was friends with. Like Mr. John Coltrane. It was that man that allowed me to see that different side of my grandfather and it was his music that inspired my grandfather and the rest of his generation. It’s incredible to just think that he had the honor of calling him his friend. I walked back over to the record player and dropped the needle back onto the record. John’s sweet tunes began to resonate throughout the house once again, and would continue so until the next person would come to clean out the rest of the house. Hopefully those people would be as inspired  and appreciative as I was when they heard that music for the first time. I placed the box in the back of my new Lincoln, and drove away down the road with those sweet melodies still resonating in my eardrums.