By Walter White

I answered the phone one afternoon in 1989 and the voice on the other end said, “Hi, this is Maynard Ferguson… uh, who's this?” Hi, Maynard, it's Walter White, I replied. “Oh, Walter!! (Ha-ha) That's my name, too!... must be some kind of Freudian thing! (Ha-ha-ha!)”. Thus began my formal invitation to join the Big Bop Nouveau Band. I joined the band in Ojai a few weeks later to begin rehearsals. I was pretty keyed up when he walked in on the first day ready to run down the tunes for the tour including a duet with me , ”The Fox Hunt”, an up-tempo two-trumpet battle by Mike Abene based on the changes to “Lady Be Good” (It would later be dubbed, unofficially by the band, “The Two Walters”). Maynard put everyone at ease with a joke and we all settled into playing together for the first time.

Besides his contagious laugh and great sense of humor, there are many things I'll remember about Maynard; his powerful, triumphant trumpet sound, his love of Indian culture and philosophy, and his penchant for telling rich stories (sometimes more than once!). I'll remember his generosity on the bandstand and his unmatched ability to transmit energy to an audience and get the band to play beyond their own expectations, no matter how tired we were. His spirit was so immense, confident and truly joyful, that the better you played, the more excited he got. I'll never forget the thrilling experience of standing shoulder to shoulder with him night after night playing “The Fox Hunt” and learning through osmosis, breath for breath.

I first heard of Maynard in 1972 when I was a third-grader at Jackson Elementary in Oak Park, Michigan, near Detroit. As a reading/writing exercise, we were to choose an album from home and write out the title and song list (my choice was a Louis Armstrong record). A classmate and fellow trumpet player in the band brought in M.F. HORN (with Eli's Comin, MacArthur Park, Chala Nata, etc.). I thought; Maynard Ferguson, what a weird name and wild looking guy! Then we played the record at my house after school and my world changed forever. I'd been checking out Louis Armstrong, Al Hirt and Herb Alpert, but this was something completely different! From then on, I borrowed and bought every M.F. record I could find and waited anxiously for the new ones to come out. I would go to hear the band live and sit in the front row, hoping to get “anointed” by the water flying out of Maynard's horn.

I heard the M.F. band again while attending Interlochen's National Music Camp in the summer of ‘76. When the trumpet players (Stan Mark, Dennis Noday, Joe Mosello, and Ron Tooley) played from the audience during Pagliacchi the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I knew this is what I wanted to do. It was around this time that I started to play along with the records, particularly “Live at Jimmy's” and “Chameleon”, trying to emulate Maynard's sound and style (as I did earlier with Louis Armstrong, one of Maynard's favorite players and early influences). I would always play with my bed behind me in case I passed out! (That only happened once or twice).

Two years later, I started 10 th grade at Interlochen Arts Academy. I found out later, to my surprise, that Maynard's kids had gone there, as well as saxophonist Bob Mintzer, drummer Peter Erskine (who played in Maynard's band from ‘76-'78 after working with Stan Kenton), and Dave Brubeck's sons. Maynard later joked that he and Brubeck had an on-going contest as to who had the most kids expelled (When I asked Brubeck about it, he said, “I won that one!”). In my class was Maynard's youngest daughter, Wilder, a dance major, who definitely did make it to graduation! Although she may disagree, I tried not to bother her too much for news about her Dad! Wilder married Christian Jacob, the superbly talented French pianist who joined the Big Bop Nouveau band during my tenure. Maynard seemed to get a kick out of speaking French with Christian.

I first met Maynard professionally in 1988 through Maynard's road manager, Ed Sargent, who I'd become acquainted with earlier through saxophonist and recent M.F. alum Rick Margitza, also a buddy of mine from Detroit. Ed arranged for Rick and I to sit with the band (along with Lew Soloff and Chuck Mangione) at Maynard's 60 th birthday party at the Blue Note in New York.

One story Maynard enjoyed telling was about playing opposite Miles Davis' group at Birdland in the late 50's during the Christmas holiday. Maynard and his “Birdland Dream Band” had just finished their set with a seasonal medley, complete with band vocals on “Silent Night.” When Maynard approached the bar he found Miles standing with well-known radio personality, “Symphony Sid” Torin, who proceeded to loudly dismiss the Christmas medley. Without hesitating, Miles cold-cocked Sid, knocking him off the barstool, and said calmly to Maynard in his raspy voice, ”I liked it.”

Another one he loved to tell was about himself as a kid playing a concert with the Scottish Regiment band in Montreal with his parents and teacher in attendance. When he missed the high C at the end of a piece he smashed his horn against the wall. His teacher leaned over to his folks and told them, “he's going to be a hell of a trumpet player”.

We shared many fabulous meals at Indian restaurants across the states and in the UK, most notably, Gaylords, in Chicago and London, where we would always order Lamb Vindaloo, our favorite dish, and a healthy portion of Tandoori Chicken. To this day, I still think about Maynard every time I whip up a batch of vindaloo. Maynard was a devoted follower of guru Satya Sai Baba of Bangalore, India, and had fun sticking Baba stickers on our cases (and other places) when we weren't looking. We talked about ragas and of working on a piece together.

While the public will most likely remember Maynard for the high notes, those who knew about his days recording for Paramount Pictures (The Ten Commandments) know he possessed great technical skill on the trumpet and could play anything he wanted to. Knowing I was classically trained, he would wait until I was outside his dressing room before a show and play purposely hideous examples of double-tongued scales. Then he would stick his head out off the dressing room door and ask in mock seriousness, “Was that alright, Walter? Too-Koo-Too-Koo-Tooo!... (Hahahaha!!)”

After my time in Big Bop Nouveau ended, I would see Maynard, Ed, and the latest band from time to time in different places around the planet. Maynard would often invite me to sit in with the band or graciously introduce me to the audience and give me a plug as ”a great trumpet player”, once again selflessly promoting another. I'll also remember a concert in Oklahoma, when opening for Maynard with Tulsa University's band, I had the daunting task of playing Don Sebesky's arrangement (for Maynard) of “Danny Boy” while Maynard stood in the wings watching and listening (it went OK and he said he loved it).

I feel very fortunate to have played with him one more time in March of '06 when I filled in for a couple nights for Patrick Hessian, his last full-time lead trumpet player. I traded solos with Maynard and had a blast. I felt very welcome. It was as if no time had passed since the days of playing “The Two Walters” Some nights when we played it, he would cut off early on the last, screaming chord and triumphantly wave me up to his last note, with a big, broad smile on his face. Music minus Maynard is less joyous, but his spirit will live on for the multitudes he touched.