Dee had already been in contact with a guy who has a record store in Maine. He was disappointed that I wound up with the records. He had no way to know and didn’t realize, I’m sure, I had no intention of keeping them all. Dee put him in touch with me and we arranged for him to come to The Berkshires and make an offer for whatever he wanted. We struck a deal and he took about  220 records, including many of the rock and blues records. There were probably about 400 jazz records left. I reached out to a friend who owns a record store around here and invited him to take a look and make an offer. He came, but didn’t take anything. He did, however, bring a friend who did buy a few choice items, including the two Monk Blue Notes, which, for the record, were not original pressings but early West 63^rd labels.

At that point, I didn’t really know what to do. I had reached out to one of our loyal readers immediately when I got the collection, but he was only interested in a few items and I put them aside for him. Then on Dec. 12, I dropped a hint on Jazz Collector. In viewing records on eBay, as I do, I wrote this:

“Let’s start with Ornette Coleman, The Shape of Jazz To Come, Atlantic 1317. This is a deep groove pressing, unplayed, still with its original loose sleeve. The start price is around $200 and the auction closes today with no bidders. This record caught my eye because in my other room just down the hall I have a copy of this record still with its original seal unopened. Oh, yes, and the record happened to be owned by Ornette himself. Oh, yes, and it is part of a collection that I recently purchased and am looking to sell in toto. Intrigued? I will be providing more details soon, because, as always, there was an adventure and a story that goes with it. In the meantime, if anyone is interested you know where to find me.”

I received 5-6 responses to this hint that I dropped. But that turned out to be enough. I worked out a deal with another one of our loyal readers and wound up selling him everything that was left. He got a good deal with some great records and, in the end, I did wind up getting my money back and a little bit more for Dee.

As I reach the end of telling this story, I realize this account is lacking in some of the usual specifics: more record titles, condition, who ended up with the records. There are a few reasons for this lack. I never did write anything down. I don’t remember all of the records I had. There was a Jackie McLean Blue Note and a Freddie Redd Blue Note (not Shades of Redd, unfortunately). There was a New Jersey Sonny Rollins Plus Four. A few Monk records that Dee asked me to put aside. A lot of Ornette records. Blue Train, of course. Several later pressing of Miles on Columbia and Coltrane on Impulse.

It seemed like the records slipped through my hands before I had a chance to really enjoy them or even play them. I am also careful with details out of respect to everyone involved, including Dee, the dealer from Maine, and, of course, the two loyal Jazz Collector readers who ended up with small and large portions of the collection. However, to Dee and anyone else mentioned here directly or tangentially, even The Lovely Mrs. JC, I offer, as always, the option to comment on this post, or write a post of your own.

Separately, I once again want to remind you all that Dee still has this incredible collection of one-of-a kind photographs, some signed by the artists, and she is still looking to sell them. Plus she has other memorabilia as well. If you are interested, you know where to find me, and now you know where to find Dee.

I’ve asked Dee if she would like to have her own post to put an exclamation point on this particular adventure and I am hoping she takes me up on that offer. In the meantime, she sent the following note with today’s set of pictures.

“These artist captures should be mentioned as Ornette’s long-time band mates, photographed during his own appearances. Bobby Bradford, and Charlie Haden, in an Autographed Edition of one original vintage silver gelatin 8 X 10” print, made by the photographer within one year of exposure. Also, Bobby Bradford lived with ME, my aunt (his partner), ORNETTE, and my mother for several years in their joint 150 West 15^th Street apartment during those early years. That is where the piano Monk woke me up to play late nights was also living!”

It was a Thursday when I went to Dee’s, the week before the Thanksgiving holiday here in the States. Before I left Dee’s with my five records and four-hour drive, we had one last conversation as I was getting into my car. For a variety of reasons, Dee needed to sell the records by the Spring, hopefully in the May/June time frame. She was concerned that Spring would come and she would still have the records. I told her not to worry; if she still had the records in the Spring, I would drive back, pay her a fair price and take the records so she wouldn’t have to be concerned. She offered on the spot for me to take them all, sell them at my own pace and then pay her later. She was obviously comfortable placing a lot of trust in me, but I politely declined. I didn’t want that much responsibility, tempting as it may have been.

So I reiterated my offer to come back in the Spring, if necessary. I was hoping to be Plan B, and she would find another buyer in the meantime. I would like to think that my motivation in making this proposal was just to help her out; but, perhaps, there was a part of me that just really wanted the records. Who in his right mind passes up a clean copy of Blue Train in our weird world of Jazz Collectors?

On Friday, The Lovely Mrs. JC was taking the train up from New York, as she often does, because I like to spend as much time in The Berkshires as possible, and she has a full time psychotherapy practice in New York. We went out for dinner and I told her about Dee. I said I was concerned because she was very particular about handling the records and that she had a beautiful home and, no offense to any of you out there, I wasn’t all that confident other record guys would be as sensitive and careful as I had been.

Just saying.

Then I told The Lovely Mrs. JC about that last conversation, the one about driving back in the Spring, and she had an idea. If Dee was concerned about the records, why didn’t I just offer her the same amount I would offer in the Spring and take the records now. I realize that this qualifies the Lovely Mrs. JC for the Wife Hall of Fame, but it really did happen this way, or close to this way. Maybe it was my idea to get the records now and she approved it? In any case, I walked away from dinner with a plan.

I sent Dee a note the next day and she was, in her words, “rendered speechless, almost unheard-of!” Clearly, she was in favor of the idea. So the following Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, there I was, once again in my car, this time with 20 empty record boxes and a pocketful of cash, heading back to her rural Vermont mountaintop, prepared to drive back home with 20 full record boxes.

I realize, as I am telling this story, that there is one aspect I’ve left out. Dee had lived with Ornette Coleman for many years of her childhood. She was the inspiration for the song “Dee Dee” on the Blue Note Album “Live at the Golden Circle, Stockholm, Volume 1.” Many of these records belonged to Ornette. It was hard for me to tell exactly which ones, because some were Dee’s records, some were Ornette’s and some belonged to Dee’s mother. In any case, there were multiple copies of many of Ornette’s classics, including “The Shape of Jazz to Come,” “Change of the Century,” “This is Our Music,” and many others, including both volumes of “Live at the Golden Circle.”

I also have to tell you that I had no intent or interest in making money on this collection. I am not on eBay and haven’t sold records for years. My real writing job keeps me busy enough, too busy most of the time. My goal was to take a few records for myself and sell the rest. I hoped and expected to get back the money I had given Dee. I also told her that anything above that, I would not keep for myself but would give to her. She insisted that I take whatever I deemed was fair compensation for my time/expenses/efforts. She also shared that she’s always been squeamish about receiving “gifts,” including innumerable refused attempts by Ornette since she’d known him (beginning in approximately 1960).

Anyway, the day before Thanksgiving, late in the evening, I found myself with crates of records sitting in my home here in The Berkshires with no particular plan for what I was going to do with them. What happened next? Stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy a few more great autographed photos from Dee’s portfolio.