I found this on a F******k group of which I am a member. Thought this would interest many, particularly Bluesnik & his tape recorder.
Here is the text copied - the link also has a rare photo indeed of Dupree Bolton.
Here is the text copied - the link also has a rare photo indeed of Dupree Bolton.
I just found this one among my memorabilia. It was probably in March, 1980.
The photograph shows the prison inmate band I directed from July 1, 1979 - October 1, 1981. I was hired by the Oklahoma Department of Corrections, the Oklahoma Arts and Humanities Council, and the National Endowment For The Arts as part of a program that was designed to study the effect of arts programs on recidivism and other issues among prison inmates in Oklahoma.
The music program was extremely successful, receiving quite a lot of media attention in Oklahoma and beyond. In fact, this band was featured in a new story that closed a telecast of the NBC nightly news in October 1980.
Although I remember all of their names, I’ll identify only one for reasons of privacy for those former inmates who are still alive.
The trumpet player in this photograph who is third from the left (and just to my right - that’s me with the big walrus mustache) in this photograph is Dupree Bolton.
Dupree had been one of the young jazz trumpeters in Los Angeles in the late 1950s and early 1960s who was showing great promise. He was the jazz trumpet soloist on an album titled, “The Fox,” recorded by the great tenor saxophonist, Harold land, for example, and he was gaining the attention of other jazz greats of the time.
Unfortunately, Dupree had a terrible drug problem and was incarcerated many times. He was in his mid-50s in this photograph. And it was his fifth time to be incarcerated.
Dupree was not just a brilliant jazz musician. He was quite the erudite and articulate conversationalist, too. Dupree and I had many engaging conversations during the time he was in the prison band before he was paroled. We even co-wrote two jazz compositions together. I always enjoyed hearing Dupree play and spending time with him in conversation, too.
However, I also found myself exasperated with him in that he remained incorrigible in his refusal to do anything about his drug problem. I saw him a few times after he was paroled and I even played a couple of jazz sit-in performances at jazz clubs in Oklahoma City - clubs he was not supposed to be in because of the rules of his parole.
Fortunately, he was never caught in those situations.
I lost track of Dupree around March 1983. No one at that time could say where he had gone. But, I found out later that he had gone back to California where I think he may have been incarcerated yet again (I haven’t verified this, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all if that happened to be the case). During his time in California Dupree had evidently alienated virtually everyone in his life because of his incorrigible drug problem - so he ended up alone and penniless.
I got a report somewhere around 10 years ago that Dupree had died in 1993. As I understand it, he died in the street somewhere in Sacramento. No one claimed the body and he was buried in a graveyard for indigents of his type.
To this day, the utter waste of human potential that was so strikingly apparent in Dupree‘s abilities as a musician and as communicator evokes a feeling of loss in me. He had so much to offer in the way of being an inspirational figure, like Clark Terry was, for example. But, it was never to be.
And that’s a shame. That I had no power to change that reality about Dupree leaves me, to this day, with a feeling of quiet resignation and melancholy.
The photograph shows the prison inmate band I directed from July 1, 1979 - October 1, 1981. I was hired by the Oklahoma Department of Corrections, the Oklahoma Arts and Humanities Council, and the National Endowment For The Arts as part of a program that was designed to study the effect of arts programs on recidivism and other issues among prison inmates in Oklahoma.
The music program was extremely successful, receiving quite a lot of media attention in Oklahoma and beyond. In fact, this band was featured in a new story that closed a telecast of the NBC nightly news in October 1980.
Although I remember all of their names, I’ll identify only one for reasons of privacy for those former inmates who are still alive.
The trumpet player in this photograph who is third from the left (and just to my right - that’s me with the big walrus mustache) in this photograph is Dupree Bolton.
Dupree had been one of the young jazz trumpeters in Los Angeles in the late 1950s and early 1960s who was showing great promise. He was the jazz trumpet soloist on an album titled, “The Fox,” recorded by the great tenor saxophonist, Harold land, for example, and he was gaining the attention of other jazz greats of the time.
Unfortunately, Dupree had a terrible drug problem and was incarcerated many times. He was in his mid-50s in this photograph. And it was his fifth time to be incarcerated.
Dupree was not just a brilliant jazz musician. He was quite the erudite and articulate conversationalist, too. Dupree and I had many engaging conversations during the time he was in the prison band before he was paroled. We even co-wrote two jazz compositions together. I always enjoyed hearing Dupree play and spending time with him in conversation, too.
However, I also found myself exasperated with him in that he remained incorrigible in his refusal to do anything about his drug problem. I saw him a few times after he was paroled and I even played a couple of jazz sit-in performances at jazz clubs in Oklahoma City - clubs he was not supposed to be in because of the rules of his parole.
Fortunately, he was never caught in those situations.
I lost track of Dupree around March 1983. No one at that time could say where he had gone. But, I found out later that he had gone back to California where I think he may have been incarcerated yet again (I haven’t verified this, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all if that happened to be the case). During his time in California Dupree had evidently alienated virtually everyone in his life because of his incorrigible drug problem - so he ended up alone and penniless.
I got a report somewhere around 10 years ago that Dupree had died in 1993. As I understand it, he died in the street somewhere in Sacramento. No one claimed the body and he was buried in a graveyard for indigents of his type.
To this day, the utter waste of human potential that was so strikingly apparent in Dupree‘s abilities as a musician and as communicator evokes a feeling of loss in me. He had so much to offer in the way of being an inspirational figure, like Clark Terry was, for example. But, it was never to be.
And that’s a shame. That I had no power to change that reality about Dupree leaves me, to this day, with a feeling of quiet resignation and melancholy.
Comment