I barely knew Tommy Chase. I saw him a handful of times when he was playing intermission at Blues Alley in Washington, D.C. The reason I know it was just a few times is because in those days I was very poor, and though Blues Alley wasn’t expensive, it was if your typical evening meal cost a dollar. But I can prove I saw him, because in 1966 I took a single photograph of Tommy that somehow survived all these years. The one print I have has faded and looks terrible; the original Ektachrome transparency is little better. But the wonders of Photoshop restored the image to its original, pristine color. I have no idea how I managed to hang onto the transparency but I’m glad I did. There aren’t a lot of pictures of Tommy Chase floating around these days.

Tommy was born in northern Virginia around the turn of the century, but grew up in Washington, D.C. He was active musically in that city, as a pianist, occasionally doubling on trumpet and tuba, but in the early 1930s, he left the United States and didn’t return until war broke out in Europe. He performed in New York City during the 1940s before he was drafted. After his military service he returned to Washington, D.C. and was something of a fixture on that city’s music scene, such as it was. He was probably a good deal better earlier in his career than when I heard him 1966. His career had, after all, stretched all over Europe, Northern Africa and the Middle East, where he only played the best clubs, in the most interesting cities. He even went as far south as Casablanca for extended engagements, and rumor has it he was the model for Sam, as in “play in again, Sam,” as in Casablanca. 

He left behind one recording, which I helped my friend, Johnson McRee, issue in 1969. I’m sure it is not reflective of Tommy’s real abilities, and the dreadfully out of tune piano is not helpful. Frank Driggs recorded a few extra selections in New York City, but most of those released were recorded at Blues Alley, before an uninterested audience. I don’t recall the piano ever sounding so bad, but maybe I was just so thrilled to be inside in those days, I didn’t pay attention to the problem. The only time I ever made a live recording at Blues Alley I kept a piano tuner with me at all times. Maybe I remembered Tommy’s record when I recorded Willie The Lion Smith in 1971. Willie’s turned out a little better.

In any event, the record of Fat Cat’s Jazz is all there is. Tommy plays one blues, a couple of stride numbers, where there are flashes of what he might have once been, one semi-modern piece, Lil’ Darlin’, plus a few songs that he probably played regularly for non-jazz, café society-type audiences, songs, like Poor Little Rich Girl and I Kiss Your Hand Madam. The brief biography that piano specialist, Johnny Simmen wrote in Coda magazine in 1970, the notes Frank Driggs crafted for the LP and an essay by Frank and George Kay in the April 1970 issue of Coda are all that is known about Tommy Chase. I have never seen his name in any book or, other than Coda, any other publication, not do I know anyone alive, other than Frank, who has even heard of him.

This story may seem sad, but my guess is Tommy Chase probably had a pretty good time for three or four decades, first as an itinerant pianist, and then a local Washington musician. I don’t remember anything about meeting him, but the one photo doesn’t show an unhappy guy. And I’d like to think he had a good career and fine life. All to often, good musicians, particularly those with just a local reputation and following, can fall between the cracks and be forgotten. This may be the last time anyone writes anything about Tommy Chase, who was pretty good the few times I heard him.

Tommy Chase, Blues Alley, Washington, D.C., 1968