Tom Wayburn, PhD
I believe it was in 1958 that Chet and Philly Joe Jones lived with me on East 20th Street (close to where Theodore Roosevelt was born but rent controlled at $19.05/ month). Chet's father came to visit him. Chet's dad and I drove uptown to pick up Chet at his connection's place and "Dad" told me about his (Dad's) days playing banjo with Charlie Teagarden's band. (Charlie was Jack's brother.) Also, he related a discussion with Chet throughout which he gave all the arguments for sticking with "pot" and leaving heroin alone. This was before Chet had tried heroin. I have many additional stories from those days but I am growing old.
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Earlier I memtioned that I had more than two sets of drums. While I was still employed as a chemical engineer. I had enough money to collect drums as opportunities arose. A had a couple of tom-toms that I no longer had plans for; so, I begrudgingly agreed that Philly Joe could take them to someone he knew in Brooklyn who would give us money that could be used for drugs. We took my car to Brooklyn. Chet was the designated driver. He looked nearly as much at home behind the wheel of a car as behind a trumpet. (I would have been willing to believe he was the second coming of James Dean in those days.) Although, it was already late in the evening, Joe took the two drums and left Chet and me ( respectively) in the front and back seats (respectively) where we promptly fell asleep. Now Joe had no intention to share the proceeds from the sale of the drums. He never returned to the car. Nor did Chet and I wake up until well after dawn.
As it turned out Chet had a record date at Riverside Records later that day but not that much later. He had no intention to make a record while enduring the beginnings of drug withdrawal; so, we headed for the bridge to Manhattan and Chet's uptown connection. But, just before we got to the bridge, out of gas we ran – and we with very little cash. Chet said, “No way do I play that record date without scoring first. I am going to walk over the bridge and take a train up to Harlem.” I said, “Look! There's a gas station over there [less than a block away].” I could fill a gas can with the pocket change I had on me and we would be on our way very quickly. For some strange reason, he was having none of it. As he disappeared into the ironwork of I forget which of the three bridges (I think it must have been the Manhattan), I was reminded of the ending of some movies (such as Chaplin in Modern Times) and I never saw him again except for a few minutes backstage at Carnegie Hall (to be described later).
As I understand it, he was busted later that day, made bail, and escaped to Italy.
My articles on drug legalization:
The Case for Drug Legalization and Decontrol in the United States
Fallacies and Unstated Assumptions in Prevention and Treatment
A Review of the 1990 Drug Policy Foundation Conference
A Seven-Point Post-Prohibition Policy
Can the State Teach that Drugs are Wrong and Harmful?
Despite Recent Flurry of Anti-Drug Propaganda, Drug Prohibition is Indefensible
Two Crucial Issues in the Argument for Drug Legalization