No one told me Phil Schaap died

No one told me about Phil Schaap's death in September, or perhaps better yet, I somehow missed his obit in The Times. 

No one told me I suppose because my father is the only person who would think to tell me and now he’s not fit to tell me much, given all of his health problems.

The funny thing – wrong phrase but we use it this way all the time – I wrote about Phil Schaap for the first time earlier this year, which has had me thinking so much about him this year, and especially this summer.

Not only thinking about him but also seeking out his one-of-a-kind voice on his radio show on WKCR. Indeed, just over the weekend I indulged my typical driving-through-New York-on-my-way-to-Jersey habit of losing myself in my favorite old NY radio stations, WKCR and WFUV.

And there he was on “Bird Flight,” of course (the radio station re-broadcasts his shows).

I wrote about him as part of an essay for CNN about my father, and how much I don’t know about him even as he heads toward his human twilight. I also talked about what I did know: that he’s always loved Jazz and he passed on that reverence and passion to me, partly through marathon Jazz shows broadcast on Columbia's WKCR. 

What I loved about Phil Schaap is his full embrace of the subject. As Franz Kafka once said, "Follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly." Which means Schaap can be an inspiration to us.

You can read Schaap’s obituary at this link below. I would have loved to read it in the newspaper itself – an odd journalistic treat since placement and space indicate so much about the person’s importance when you’re dealing with an obit in The Times.

And Phil Schaap was important because he told us Jazz was important. And it is, it so very is.

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/09/08/arts/music/phil-schaap-dead.html