Street Sax Silent     

   His funeral will be tomorrow at a Baptist church in Cincinnati.

    Max Pierre made his living $1 at a time. He entertained people in Tampa for 17 years, outside baseball and hockey venues, and among late-night crowds. He was 60. 

   Once in Chicago, we passed people on Michigan Avenue drumming on plastic buckets.

   One creative man was dressed and painted in pewter, skin and all. He posed as a statue - we weren't certain - until our grandson placed a dollar in his bucket and the "statue" slowly bowed thank you. 

   We assumed these men had to do this to survive. Not so with Mr. Pierre, who could have done it some other way. He studied music in college, then worked as a street musician in New Orleans. 

   He had begun playing saxophone in fourth grade and never imagined another way of life. He turned down opportunities to play in R&B bands. 

   His mother said, "He was just very good-spirited and loved to play his music. And the people loved him." His brother added, "He made a decent income from his street stuff and never really seemed to worry about anything else."

   Last Thanksgiving, Pierre returned home to Cincinnati and played with the church choir. His mom said members still talk about the time he played, There is a Fountain Filled with Blood.  

   In Tampa, Pierre played in the hot sun, then again outside bars until the last stragglers headed home. He stayed with friends, caught rides, whatever was necessary. 

   This was his connection to the world.

   He joked with sports fans and encouraged kids to dance. He intended to play until his final breath, which followed a brain aneurysm. 

       Jimmy