Good Morning.

The inevitable has occurred. The unyielding hand of time has come for Papa TriSec.


Friday Morning, April 24. Aged 92 years and one month. Out of the blue.

I spoke to him at lunchtime on Thursday, where he was in fine fettle. As later told to me, he was at dinner, everything seemed fine with him, but then he just didn't show up for breakfast.

My father's entire identity was music. He did many storied and varied things over a 70-year career. Chief among them, of course, being a part of the builders of Berklee College of Music. He was also a member of the Boston Pops, and played jazz for fun and profit.

He was also a veteran.

My father served only briefly - he was drafted in 1956 and spent his time stateside, at Fort Dix. It was the US Army that initially diagnosed him with diabetes, and in those days that was an automatic medical discharge.

Unlike many among us, he never wore that on his sleeve. Perhaps because he did serve so briefly, and he saw it more as a barrier to his burgeoning musical career. Indeed - he and his band had just recorded a single in New York City, but never had the opportunity to tour or perform due to the circumstances.

Incredibly, that record is available online....so we'll leave it here today as his requiem.