You must bear in mind, when I graduated from this school, in other words the same age as some of you within sound of my voice, jazz was such a new thing that they weren’t even sure how to spell it. Some spelled it j, a, s, s, and I’ve seen Victrola records with Jass Band instead of Jazz Band printed on the label. But I’ll tell you one thing. If you ever heard Red Watson sing “Jazz Me” you knew it was spelled with two z’s. To be quite frank with you, I’m always hesitant about coming here and speaking about Red Watson, because as the –I hope-respectable editor of a family newspaper, I don’t consider Reds a proper subject for a talk before a group of young high school students. If I weren’t so convinced that you know as much about some things as I do, I’d have to decline your invitations. Or at least I’d choose another subject. But then I always say to myself, “These young people today, they know a lot more than I did when I was their age, about certain things, and maybe I can sneak over a moral lesson somehow or other.” And I can. You see, boys and girls, or young ladies and gentlemen, Red Watson was an example of great talent wasted. He had a God-given voice, completely untrained, but I was told that he was given many offers to go away and take several rich people up there wanted to pay for his vocal training, but he’d have no part of it.