Second day I was there they brought me to the Rhythm Club, Red Allen and my uncle. Introduced me to some musicians. He said, "It takes time. " He had patience, Paul Barbarin. He said, "It takes time, but you get to know the guys, and don't be discouraged, because you can play. You got the rhythm. You got the feel. You from home. You play like you play at home, and you'll be all right. " He introduced me to Alphonso Steele. Alphonso Steele was up in his forties then. Alphonso Steele was a little guy. You'll see him on a picture I got here. I'll show you some time. He knew everything. He was from St. Augustine, Florida. His family got in some trouble in the South, and they migrated to New York. St. Augustine, Florida. That's where he was from. So Paul Barbarin said . . . He introduced me to Alphonse Steele. Steele say, "Yeah, you're going to do good here, kid. " [? (inaudible)] on a cigar. Said, "Yeah, you're going to do good here, kid. " Got his Chesterfield coat. "Yeah, you'll do all right. " Big [? (inaudible)]. Medium [? (inaudible)] drummer. He was originally a waiter, but he played drums too. He played a little funky butt piano. He could play enough piano to play a party. He was into music, but he made his money as a waiter. Then later on he start playing drums full. So he said, "Yeah, you . . . don't worry about it. I'm going to introduce you to the right people. I'm'a tell you who's the cats and who's the dogs. " That's the way he talked. That was Steele. Steele used to tell me everything. He showed me everything. Everything I wanted to know, I asked Steele, and Steele would tell me. And when he say, "See Jelly Roll Morton on the corner, talking. " I say, "Yeah. " "See Jelly Roll Morton. He's a great musician, but he talks too much. He's great, but he talks too much. He get on your nerves. I don't want to hear him talk about what he did and what he didn't do. " Jelly Roll Morton Morton talk what he was doing that nobody knew nothing about. Jelly Roll Morton Morton was from New Orleans, and he had heard great jazz, where these people in New York didn't know nothing about no jazz. They never knew about getting down. You grab a woman and do your thing. He was in a hurry, so they say, from the adage of New Orleans, you don't want to be in no hurry with no woman and all that jumping around. Get her close to you, breast to breast, bosom to bosom, belly to belly, and you dance with your woman. Up there they in a hurry, or they're too proper. The woman's here and you over there. You're holding her from a distance. Right here you grab on right. First thing you try to get as close as you can, in a sneaky sort of way. You try to bring her in. [laughter] You seen all that. There's a corner in New York, 131st, '32nd, '33rd, '34th Street, and Seventh Avenue. That's where the Lafayette Theater was. There was Connie's Inn there. There was the Madhouse there. There was the Rhythm Club this street, and the Band Box around the corner. Everybody, the show girls, the show women, all the show people, when they came out, they came around Big John's. It was Prohibition then. Up in between the alley and the Lafayette hall, there was a alley up in there. Good size. You could pull a cart through. Up in there was Big John's. It was a speakeasy. He had some kind of in with the law. All the performers used to hang in there, and he sold booze across the bar, which was against the law down here, but in New York they overlook it, because average New York, when you get there, they ain't from New York anyhow, so they don't know about what's too wrong, because you go there and you get your whipping. It's lots like going to fight Muhammad Ali, going to New York, because they're punching at you from all angles, because you don't know.