I had the pleasure of knowing Bill Green for more than half a century. When my children were very young, our families shared a babysitter, and I would run into Bill on gigs and recording sessions. Later, I would play next to him in Bill Berry’s Big Band and the Capp-Pierce Juggernaut Band, just to name a couple of the bands.

We each excelled in different instruments, with different styles. Bill was more of a classically trained musician, featuring flute, piccolo and clarinet playing, as well as playing all of the saxophones. He taught on and off throughout his life and career, and took the time to learn to play and teach all of these woodwind instruments well. On the other hand, I grew up learning to play by ear, listening to records and emulating the styles I heard.

It’s difficult to think of one thing to write to memorialize Bill Green. We were buddies and writing about Bill has been a trip down memory lane for me. But one thing that stands out for me is that Bill respected my jazz and blues playing abilities, and I respected him as a well-rounded and schooled musician. So we learned from each other. Also, because I had the privilege of substituting for him in his classes from time to time, it allowed me to analyze what it was that I was doing, and to write it down on sheets of paper, as teaching exercises for my students. So our styles and strengths complemented each other and helped us both.

Later in his life, Bill would come over to my home to study the way I practiced and improvised because that is the type of person he was: He was a lover of the knowledge of music, and never stopped learning. One of Bill’s favorite mottos, which he lived and taught me and others, was to never stop practicing.

Bill, we had some great times together, and I am thinking of, and missing, you.

Plas Johnson