I Must Play

Shortly after, we lived together in a cozy one-bedroom apartment in Queens, New York. By then, Thomas had left the well-known big-band orchestra of Lionel Hampton to form his own group, writing and performing his own compositions. He was happily making a dream come true. “I don’t want to play, I must play,” he said, explaining that music was his fate rather than a choice. Thomas was deeply spiritual, and he thanked God for the privilege of being able to do what he loved.

Through the late eighties and nineties, he became widely known for his work in modern jazz with a trio that included a drummer and a bassist. Through his record label, he was regularly touring the United States, Canada, Europe, and Japan, making records and gaining a following.

And animals? They were still a steady component of his life. While our working schedules didn’t allow us to have cats, we were able to have two perky, yellow cockatiels. Tweeter and Pai. Thomas taught them words and, by whistling, he would imitate their irrepressible melodies and squawks.

As for cats, they still surrounded Thomas in the streets, darting in and out of alleys, at rehearsal spaces, at friends’ homes, and on the road. He’d find them, play with them, and adopt them on the run. He even wrote and recorded tunes that captured the spirit of the animals he had known and loved.