R.I.P., Milford Graves

This came as a shock and my first thought was "I should have called him" so my regret is deep. I actually first met Milford when he came to the hospital to visit Don Pullen when he was sick. It often feels like jazz musicians have a fear of sickness since we live so much "at the moment", but there Milford was, warmly connecting with Don and sending his always-positive vibes. Years later Milford hired me to play with him - including at the Sans D'Hiver Festival in Paris, and on stage at the Vision Festival with Kidd Jordan - and his playing was always such a force of nature, capable of both perfect sonic control and an at times almost otherworldly intensity that I've never encountered with any other percussionist. I will also always fondly remember visiting his home in Jamaica, Queens, heading down to his basement "lair" with his fascinating investigations of the human heart (we spoke of him recording my own heartbeat but never got around to it). I will miss his warmth, curiosity, and unique genius. R.I.P.. Milford Graves.