Here’s an excerpt from Ronnie Pierce’s Book: Memories & Lots Of Love. Ronnie is a local jazz musician who has been on the music scene for many years. He’s well known because he has played with some of the greats. He’s in music books and audio tapes of Seattle’s history, but he wanted to tell this story with me, using songs from the latest CD he recorded.

“Introduction: I Thought About You   

Scene: The Panama Hotel, International District, Seattle, WA.

‘The Panama Hotel is one of the oldest landmarks in Seattle, built in 1910 by a Japanese Architecture graduate from the University of Washington, Sabro Ozasa. The hotel is built on a hill and has two adjusted levels matching the decline of the sidewalk. It’s a classic charmer. It was the home for generations of Japanese immigrants, Alaskan fishers, and International Travelers. It has the only remaining Japanese Bathhouse left intact in the United States.’ http://www.panamahotel.net/history.htm

Ame (my daughter) took clarinet lessons from Ronnie when she was a kid and went out on jazz gigs as his singer when she was a teenager. Today, she’s a classically trained opera singer crafting her music and singing all over the world. We’re meeting Ronnie today at The Panama Hotel to start the storytelling process of Ronnie’s life. We park on the downward side of the hill.

We get out of the car and walk towards the hotel. I want to run down the hill, but I remember I’m an adult, so I don’t. I get to the steps of the cafe and open the door and feel the history and nostalgia like I’m in a scene as mysterious, romantic and glamorous as a Golden Hollywood Film.

I breathe in this unknown recollection of feelings evoked from such a movie set and walk onto beautiful, old wooden floors. I feel the many untold secrets I’ll never know.

I cozy up to the bar which is a piece of wood that has amazing, elegant lines to touch. I order coffee for Ame and me and linger with my hand holding onto this piece of wood that might have been one of the original trees felled for this hotel during Seattle’s beginning urban development.

The Asian man at the register knows Ronnie and says he’ll bring our drinks to the lower level when he finishes making them. There is no hurry. I am in no rush to leave. In fact, I mean to stay awhile. I see people at tables with their laptops as I see at Starbucks, but Starbucks can’t come close to this aged hundred and seventeen years of created ambiance.

As if on cue, Ame and I hear music as we step downstairs to meet Ronnie. Is that real classical music playing? It sure is as we pass the young man who is playing on an upright piano.  We push aside chairs and go around the library table and make our way to Ronnie who is sitting at a cafe table kiddy corner from this piano playing man. And the invisible camera rolls for our recorded storytelling session.

It’s been three or four years since I’ve last seen Ronnie. Was it at one of our Thanksgivings, the Latona Pub or Tula’s Jazz Club? Where has the time gone? His band members started dying so maybe that was the disconnect, or the Latona lost its charm with Don’s murder or when Ame went to Australia for over a year, and I lost my singer and my need for music. These memories rewind, and I edit them to ease the pain of my timeline. I see Ronnie and smile.

Ronnie’s much thinner from when I last saw him and a maternal instinct reaches out from me to want to fatten him up a bit, maybe like the witch in Hansel and Gretel but no, Ronnie is his unique, fairytale and he’ll be okay no matter what happens to him. I love this man. He’s exuberance itself, talented, delightful, and kind; excited all the time but quietly and calmly. His breath is calm. You know it has to be if he blows the wind and mouth instruments he knows how to play. I’ve known him for over fifteen years, and I can’t get over the fact how timeless he is. Yes, I see his body aging, I see the physical decline, but his heart and soul are ever present.”