I was Duke Ellington’s personal assistant. We were on the road, had been on the road for a long time. He’d just finished a show and we were back at his hotel room. He was wearing an old, worn avocado green cardigan sweater. It was something he always had with him on tour to put on after the show; it made him feel comfortable. I could tell he wasn’t feeling well and was in some kind of pain. He told me he had to lie down. I asked him if we could stay here for awhile or if we had to leave for the next gig right away.

"I don’t know," he said. "But I’ve got to sleep now. I feel ill."

"If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know. I’m here for you if you need anything at all," I said.

He looked over at me with tears in his eyes, a sad smile. The pain on his face momentarily melted away. He hugged me and then tenderly kissed me on neck.

"Oh Duke. You take such good care of us," I said. It was hard to keep from crying.

Once again he kissed me on the neck. Then he waved goodbye and closed the door of his room.