Horn of Plenty

updated 01/18/1993 AT 01:00 AM EST

originally published 01/18/1993 AT 01:00 AM EST

HE WAS A MAN OF PERPETUAL MOTION. If he wasn't at a jazz festival in Europe or Asia, he was playing the national anthem at a New York Knicks basketball game or appearing on Arsenio or doing a three-night gig in a jazz club. Just four years ago he gave 300 concerts in 27 countries. He worked so hard, so often, he was literally forced to take a night off in 1990 so he could receive one of America's highest cultural honors, the Kennedy Center lifetime achievement award. "You can't take it easy on the trumpet," he told a recent interviewer. "You have to keep at it all the time."

Last week the trumpet of John Birks "Dizzy" Gillespie, 75, fell silent. Jazz's great elder statesman died of pancreatic cancer in a hospital near his home in Englewood, N.J. To jazz buffs Diz was known for helping to create the angular rhythms and harmonic complexities of bebop, for introducing Latin sounds into jazz, for being a willing teacher to new musicians and for outliving virtually every jazz great he worked with, from Charlie Parker to Thelonious Monk. "We in the jazz world thought of Dizzy as the King," says tenor-sax giant Sonny Rollins. "He was a great, great artist who could reach all of the people and still retain the deep respect of his peers."

Gillespie, born in Cheraw, S.C., inherited a love of music from his father, a brick mason and amateur musician. The Diz was the personification of the humorous hipster, complete with goatee, beret, dark glasses, pipe and dashiki. He became famous for his bullfrog-cheeked playing style. And when a 1953 accident bent the bell of his horn upward at a 45-degree angle, he kept it that way, claiming he could hear the sound better. Privately he held strong beliefs—he was a follower of the Baha'i faith—and even ran for President in 1964 to protest racism. Childless, he stayed married to the same woman, Lorraine, for 52 years—a show-business rarity. "He was a role model for jazz musicians because he had his personal life together as well as his music," says bassist Milt Hinton. "He attained the greatest heights a musician can attain but never lost his relationships with his friends."

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