Jazz fund proves its purpose

Tuesday, May 4, 2004
Edition: METROPOLITAN,
Section: METROPOLITAN,
Page B1
Byline: Steve Penn

W hen a headliner was needed with national and local appeal, Claude "Fiddler" Williams filled the bill for the Coda Jazz Foundation's concert last year.

And now, when it's needed, the Coda Jazz Fund is there for Williams and his family.

A memorial jam session on Sunday and the funeral on Monday were appropriate finales to Williams' life. Yet, there was one fact that wasn't discussed yet truly is vital to understanding jazz musicians like Williams.

Even though he had recorded CDs, played at the White House, traveled abroad and was a fiddle virtuoso, Williams died without any money.

To pay the funeral and burial expenses, Blanche Williams, his widow, had to apply to the Coda Jazz Fund last week. The fund 's advisory board has graciously agreed to pay the majority of the costs, with a private donation covering the rest.

"I know a lot of people will be surprised that we had to avail ourselves of the fund ," she said. "You know what? I am so humbled by the fact that the money is there and it's available."

The fund was conceived for precisely situations like this one.

Few people are aware of Blanche Williams' own struggles. Last year, she was diagnosed with cancer and underwent six months of grueling radiation treatments. She realized her husband, 95 at the time, needed care she couldn't provide. So with his health slipping, she decided to place him in a nursing home.

She had some savings, but the bills devoured their nest egg.

"My plan for his burial went out the window," Williams told me tearfully. "Musicians like Claude just aren't paid enough to practice their craft, unless they're among the privileged few. His best gigs were out of town, and they were few and far between."

Williams hopes her story garners more support for the fund .

"I'm not too proud," she said. "I truly value the fund ."

With the public's continued support, the Coda Jazz Fund will always be around for musicians such as Williams, a man who clearly understood its purpose.

He was the first entertainer considered when planning the first concert back in 2002. But before the event, he fell and broke his shoulder. Nevertheless, with his arm in a sling, he came out with his wife that night to support the event. I made him stand up during my remarks, which he did to thunderous applause.

I played trumpet on the finale. Later that night, I saw him climbing into his car.

"I'm going to play with you next year," he said. "That's right."

Everywhere I went, I told people, "Fiddler wants to play with me."

Last year, Williams participated in the event and was remarkable.

After he and Jay McShann finished one tune, the two men embraced. As they stood in the spotlight, the local jazz legends received a standing ovation.

The audience sensed the special nature of the moment.

Once off-stage, Williams clearly wanted to continue.

Sitting in a chair, he kept strumming, despite the performances on stage.

"Claude, stop playing," his wife pleaded.

I didn't want him to stop. And neither did anyone else. We all wanted his music to go on forever.

Blanche Williams' story illustrates the reason the fund is so important. The Coda Jazz Foundation will eternally be indebted to Williams. He supported the cause with his musical gift. He realized its importance.

At the next Coda Jazz Fund benefit concert - May 15 - he will be sorely missed.

To reach Steve Penn, call (816) 234-4417 or send e-mail to spenn@kcstar.com.