On Nov. 9, the day after Donald J. Trump shocked the world, Larry Coryell was sitting in his Orlando home, cussing out the president-elect, fuming about the outcome of the election and plotting an exit strategy for himself and his wife, Tracey. “We’re going to move to Europe,” he declared. “Now that Trump is in … we’re going to make good on our promise to each other to move to either Germany or Ireland.”
Coryell was clearly agitated as the reality of a Trump presidency was sinking in. “This is an unacceptable situation,” he snarled into his phone. “We cannot let all the work we’ve done as jazz musicians to help relationships between people … we can’t let all that go to hell. And that’s what this election is going to do. It’ll take us back to the Dark Ages and people will think that it’s OK to be prejudiced again. Well, I don’t accept it. We have to stand up. … [Trump is] an impostor, a huckster, and he’s got to go. And because I’m a Buddhist I’m going to chant about it and try to turn poison into medicine, and just get deeper and deeper into my music.”
—Bill Milkowski, (2017, February). Remembering Larry Coryell. Downbeat.
