“The rigors of the never ending road.”

Abstract

It was the very early spring of 1931 when we left the Cotton Club and it was over eleven years till I once again could settle down and stay in one place. The world was now made up of theaters, trains, boats, hotel rooms, movie lots, radio stations, band buses which all come under the all encompassing heading “The rigors of the never ending road.” Of course it wasn’t a bad life once you took to it. Living out of a suitcase has its good points too, but you just don’t have any roots. No place to really come home to. In fact home is with the band, year in and year out.