When you’re a jazz fan, you’re accustomed to being a minority. Popular musical tastes run in other directions.
So it was on Saturday night, when my wife and I attended a jazz concert at Harris-Stowe State University in St. Louis. We were among a decided minority of whites in a predominantly black audience. But it wasn’t uncomfortable in the least.
In fact, race didn’t seem to matter. What bound us together in color-blind unity was our love of music. And there was plenty of that to love.
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