Maestro Horace Silver

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Ms. Jemela Mwelu

Re: For The Record–Horace Silver

I have just read your thoughtful and heartfelt account of Maestro Horace Silver’s last days. It is always enlightening to read of someone who in one’s mind and heart one has felt an affinity an intimacy with, but who in actuality one does not really know. This is probably often the case with people who connect with the heart through the miracle of music such as Mr. Silver and others.

I remember purchasing Mr. Silver’s album “Song for My Father” from a department store in Boston, Massachusetts as a young co-ed. In those days it was always comforting to me to feel the heft of the LP’s as I carried them around from place to place boldly displaying the cover-art for any would-be lookers. Today’s music hides quietly behind ear buds and shuffling tracks on MP3 players–not so then.

I have always kept that album close to me in many forms and have relished the title track and a number of others that I have played regularly including ‘Lonely Woman’ which became a sort of anthem of mine. Thus, I ‘knew’ Maestro Silver through the intimacy of his music.

As you recounted the experiences of you and your son attempting to provide a dignified, loving and friendly space for Mr. Silver’s time of aging and sunset, I resonated with my sense of what it must have been like. Attempting to preserve someone’s dignity and privacy when many think that they deserve access because they once or now know a person or have a perceived sense of ‘intimacy’ with a ‘famous’ person has to be a tricky tight-rope walk. Brava for you efforts and your success!

I will continue to honor the life and works of Maestro Horace Silver. I pray that you who were blessed with a true familiar intimacy with this great icon are smiling and comforted that you were also able to witness his true humanity and to guard his honor, privacy and dignity in his later years with your love and dedication.

Linda Tauhid

 

Spring

spring
has broken
in February.
the sun shines;
It warms the air
and me.
the darkness
of last week’s
winter
has lifted.
the smell of
curry
and marsala
are wafting–
the neighbors
are cooking
breakfast.
the water
Is calling me;
the Gulf
is about
an hour
away…
i wish to
walk
it’s shores,
smell the freshness
of its
breath.
while I breathe…
relaxed,
enlightened,
hopeful,
at this moment
when felicity
is
mine.

Linda Tauhid
2/9/15

BUTTERFLIES

i wore
that dress
with butterflies
and the pin
in my crown.
it was flowing
and long
as Rasheedah
and i
sashayed
up highways
and
across bridges
that connected
the bodies
of water
we danced
around.
two beautiful women
diverse, yet one
in longing
and
in spirit.
we dreamed
and hoped
for more
over salads
and fajitas
and unshed
tears..
we expressed
a freedom
that some would
have denied us
had they known;
the husbands
we left;
the ones
we were
yet
to know…
two girl-spirits
pushed harshly
into
a world
of morbid
responsibilities
that
tainted
our dreams…
we relish
now,
wise women
of the ages–
grand
mothers
and grateful
survivors
and conquerors
of
our fates.

Linda Tauhid
2/8/15