“I grew up in a shotgun house in the country outside of Yazoo City. My dad worked at a grain elevator. My mom kept the house spotless and taught me how to cook. Mom and Dad took care of each other, but they were old school. I can still feel the whippings Dad gave me when I was bad. Sometimes Mama said it was her turn. Keeping me in line was how my parents showed love. Now, hugs are the way I show love.

I played sousaphone at N.D. Taylor, the Black high school in Yazoo City. They integrated the schools in 1970 and sent us to Yazoo High School. I was one of the first Black students, but I could get along with anyone and it went okay. I stayed out of people’s ways and showed respect. A few White students took me under their wings.

After high school, I fought in Vietnam. I made it through by the grace of God. It was horrible, and the memories stay with me to this day.

I got out of the Army and moved to Chicago. I lived for a few weeks with someone I knew who showed me the ropes. I worked in maintenance and fixed cars, catching the bus with my bag of tools and going to what needed fixing. I also worked in a meat packing plant. Rent was about $65 a week. That sounds good now.

My mother got sick, and I moved back to Yazoo City in 1997 to care for her until she passed. I am 69. It’s hard getting older. I have had times of being lost, experimenting with bad things, and being pulled in the wrong direction. I made mistakes and lost my marriage and my parents’ home. Those hurt, but God continues to provide. I look at how many times the Lord has forgiven me and remind myself He doesn’t make mistakes.

There are many restless spirits out here. A kind world helps settle the spirit and ease the pain that others can’t see.

My sister was killed while I was in Vietnam. I came home for her funeral then they sent me back to the war. I didn’t get any counseling or help. Years later, I still have PTSD. Trying to process all of that has made me closer to God.

I turned back to music, but the sousaphone was too big and expensive. I got a raggedy trumpet and practiced a couple of hours a day. When I started out, a friend told me that I was terrible, now he gives me a thumbs up.

I play everyday around Yazoo City and blow by the spirit. When the spirit hits me, I blow. When I have a bad day, playing music relieves me. My heart, pain, and anxiety come out through this horn. People don’t just hear me, they feel me. I love it when someone tells me that my playing lifts their spirits or gives them chill bumps. It’s confirmation. People have even given me a couple of horns.

I play Amazing Grace, When the Saints Go Marching In, and Swing Low Sweet Chariot. I want to learn the Battle Hymn of the Republic. I read music a little bit, but my eyes aren’t what they used to be. I play a little harmonica and guitar.

A little girl recently gave me a dollar bill for blowing my trumpet. I kept that dollar because it has her spirit on it. I can’t buy the smile she gave me. If I can make you smile, then everything is alright

People in Yazoo City call me the Trumpet Man. I am proud that I made a name for myself.”

Tommy