“In 1964 I was in Paris ... [in] a bar (I think it was the Blue Note) where there was a very drunk man sitting peacefully alone, when to my surprise someone led him (drink in hand) to the piano. I groaned at the thought of what was going to be inflicted on us. He took a large swig, and then played some of the most beautiful, fluent jazz I have ever heard. After half an hour he was helped back to his table where he slumped with his drink.It was Bud Powell.”