Who Do You Look Up To?

 This letter is part of Nina's epistolary blog 'Nina's Diary', where she shares letters with her inner circle of close girlfriends. She overthinks films, books, and heritage sites to make sense of life.

New York, September 25, 1958

Dearest Nina,

I have carried your last letter with me all week and could not quite decide what sort of reply to send you. Until today.

I spent the afternoon giving piano lessons to little Caroline Whitmore. The moment I stepped through the kitchen door, before I had even removed my coat, Mrs. Whitmore informed me that her daughter was making no real progress at all.

She told me, “Really, Billie, I do hope we shall see improvement before Christmas.”

How on earth am I meant to teach this stubborn child not to press the black keys when I ask her otherwise? She refuses to learn her scales, kicked the piano stool halfway across the room, and at one dreadful moment declared she hated me altogether.

I nearly told her mother the child would rather climb trees than touch a piano for the rest of her life, but naturally, I smiled instead.

We are two months behind on rent now, and if it were not for these lessons, I do not know how we should keep my little brother Walter properly clothed for school this winter. Plus, since we had to sell our own piano, those few minutes after Caroline’s lesson are the only chance I have left to sit at the keys and practice Sarah’s* songs.

By evening I had returned to Harlem for my shift at the Blue Lantern on Lenox Avenue. Have I told you I work there as a waitress now? The tips are respectable enough, and Mr. Russo keeps things orderly and the girls are treated decently there.

During the main act’s intermission, a young fellow carrying a saxophone asked whether he might play a number or two for the room. He could not have been more than twenty-two. I had noticed him earlier in the evening waiting quietly near the back of the room in a carefully pressed suit.

Mr. Russo watched him from behind the bar while I waited to pick up my tray of drinks.

He said: “Poor kid ... thinks hard work’s enough."

I asked him what he meant.

“Means he’ll struggle same as the rest of them. Every week some kid walks through that door thinking he’s the next big thing. Dice are rolled already. Only a handful ever make it out. Look at Charlie Parker**. Genius of the century, and look how he went out. Dead at thirty-four. Now half these young people only know the legend, not the music. At least you got sense, Billie. Real job, steady hands. That’s your chance in this world. Find yourself a decent husband and leave all this nonsense to foolish boys.”

I do not believe Mr. Russo meant to upset me, but his words followed me all the way home. Mama and Walter were already asleep by the time I returned, so I sat by the radio in the kitchen and listened to Sarah Vaughan long after midnight.

I think I have done this every time doubt has found me these past few years. When life feels smaller than the dream, I listen to Sarah sing and somehow find the courage to believe again.

I am sending you her photograph along with this letter. Perhaps, while Paris feels uncertain and your own dreams seem far away, you too will find your own Sarah Vaughan - someone whose success keeps you strong enough to believe in yourself whenever doubt creeps in.

As for me, I still do not dare speak my dream aloud to anybody but you. But tonight, at least, I have not let go of it.

With all my love,

Billie

(*) Sarah Vaughn (1924-1990): "The Divine One", overcame the fierce racism and financial instability of the early jazz era. Launching her career at Harlem's Apollo Theatre, her breathtaking, operatic three-octave range and pioneering bebop phrasing triumphed over industry exploitation, cementing her as one of the greatest vocalists in music history.

(**) Charlie "Bird" Parker (1920-1955) revolutionized jazz by pioneering bebop, introducing blistering tempos and complex harmonies. Though a towering musical genius who redefined the alto saxophone, his life was tragically cut short at age 34 due to a lifelong, debilitating battle with heroin and alcohol addiction.

💌Next: Read Millie's Letter to Nina - Breakfast at Tiffany's, What Shook Me So

This photograph of The Sarah Vaughn is part of Billie's Iconic New York Polaroid Collection: 12 historical snapshots printed on real Instax Square film.