WISE COUNSEL

In 1929, Mezz Mezzrow was on the edge of a nervous breakdown:

I used to sit huddled up on my [subway] seat, shrinking into a corner, my head shoved down between my knees and my arms wrapped tight around it, to keep from screaming.

One day, just as the train pulled into 110th Street, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, and when I worked up enough courage to raise my head, there was a nice-looking old colored man with a thick crop of snow-white hair, looking down at me with the kindest, most sympathetic expression I ever saw.  “Son,” he said to me real soft, “if you can’t make money, make friends,” and with that he stepped out on the platform and drifted away.  He saved my life that day.

from REALLY THE BLUES (1946).

making-friends-78

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