I remember it like it was yesterday, the day that I rose from the ashes at the Newport Jazz Festival of 1956. Our orchestra was just there to represent the older type of big jazz band, but we represented much more that night. It was a cold, moonless evening and everyone was there; everyone from record company executives to dedicated jazz fans. I was able to get Columbia Records to record our performance live. The funny thing was I was still backstage negotiating the record deal when the band started our first set. I could hear the orchestra playing my theme song "Take the 'A' Train" without me, so I bounced onto the stage to conduct the last few bars of the tune. We waited another three hours until our next set. The audience started at ten thousand people and only seven thousand remained when we were called to perform our last scheduled piece, "Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue". On the tenor sax, Paul Gonsalves started the piece perfectly, playing the right amount of time to build up the excitement of the crowd. A new wave of energy swept over the festival. I began to pound on the piano keys as Gonsalves made his way down to the front. Drummer San Woodyard and bassist Jimmy Woode joined in with a steady, rocking beat. You could see the people passing through the exits, stopping in their tracks and turning back. The audience snapped their fingers and clapped their hands with the beat. There was dancing going on in the seats and aisles, the crowd was just roaring. George Wein tried to get us to stop playing, fearing the start of a riot, but all I yelled back was, "Don't be rude to the artists!" We continued into the night until an hour past midnight. The crowd finally settled down and we left the stage, but not before I closed with my tradition line, "We love you madly." "I was born [again] in 1956 at the Newport festival" (Hasse, p. 322).
             Let me tell you how it all started. The story of my life began on April 29, 1899, in Washington...