Growing up, I was always sensitive to "the other side" or whatever you want to call it. There are a number of stories I could tell, but none as important to me as this. As a bit of context, Bix Beiderbecke was one of the most influential white Jazz soloists of all time (arguably) and around a phenomenal cornetist. He was almost the musical antithesis to Louis Armstrong, playing with a clear concise tone and more "cool jazz" than Louis' hot jazz. Because of this, there is a large jazz festival in his home town of Davenport Iowa, and most anyone from the quad cities area could give you a cursory description of who he was. However our story starts elsewhere, with a young man who started playing trumpet (the school band wouldn't let me play cornet) in order to be just like this famous player. As a result, one of my dream places to go on vacation was New Orleans, one of the most if not the most important hub of jazz music in the world. Eventually, I was finally able to go.

Now, as I have stated in previous posts on this subreddit, I can only really feel what's going on and see it in my minds eye, whereas my father sees spirits as plain as you or me. As such, I am much more of a ghostdar (ghost radar, i.e. being able to sense things and their location; trademark pending) user than my father. So when we one day went into Preservation Hall in New Orleans, I was the first to notice the presence back in the shadows of a small grated off back room. Upon my father inspecting the figure, he realized that it was none other than one of our favorite musicians, Bix Beiderbecke.

Upon realizing that my father saw him, Bix and my dad went into the lobby type area of the venue, where he began to have a conversation with him, using his phone as a guise to not look totally bonkers. They discussed where he had been (kicking around to jazz spots around the world) and what he thought of the changes around him. They talked for around 20 minutes, and I was able to hear every maybe 10th word that he was saying and that my dad was responding to, so to those who may think he's nuts, it would be incredibly unlikely that we would be hallucinating the same thing separately at the same time. In any case, this would start the most long term interaction with a spirit I believe my father ever had. Occasionally when Mr. Beiderbecke was feeling like it, he would pop into my father's office or show up at the house and have a chat. He even gave me a trumpet lesson once, which helped tremendously. In any case, we haven't seen him in many years, and are starting to think maybe he passed on (in which case, we're happy for him). My dad told me not to tell anyone this, which is why I am doing it anonymously here, because I had to get this off my chest.