There came a time ten years ago when Mary Lou Williams decided that jazz was the devil's own music. She was among the best of the bebop pianists, but out on the scene she sensed evil all around her. She could even hear it echo in her playing. One blue night in Paris, "the badness" overwhelmed her; she got up from the piano and quit jazz cold. She drew up a list of names to pray for (urgent cases marked in red), and before long she had an endless coil of sadness, an encyclopedia of bad trouble, a roll...
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