The next time I saw him was at the Papagallo Bar at the Avila Hotel in
Last time I saw him, he was lying in state. He had risen to join the family of music’s historic nobility. From the silent, darkened chapel, I walked out into the sunshine. Looking up at the sky, there he was with his sticks, jamming “
I went to a bar across the street, where I ordered two añejos, one for Tito and one for myself.