Some People Retire. Lew Roht Keeps Playing.
Some people retire from music. Lew Roht never got the memo. In his late 80’s, Lew is still playing jazz—and still doing what he has loved for decades: bringing musicians together and making music.
Lew is also the dad of one of my best friends, which makes this story personal for me. I’ve known Lew through the years, but seeing him continue to play at this stage of his life has made me want to learn more about the story behind the music and, most of all, to celebrate the fact that he’s still doing it.
After having a hip replacement and beginning rehabilitation, Lew didn’t decide it was time to put the saxophone away. Instead, he continued to play with his buddies at his assisted-living community.
That, to me, says a lot about Lew.
Music isn’t simply something he did when he was younger. It’s something that is still very much a part of who he is.
The Little Big Band
For more than 17 years, Lew Roht and the Little Big Band have been part of the Kansas City-area music community.
What began informally with a group of local Kansas City-area friends gathering to play for family and friends eventually grew into a 16-piece swing-jazz band, with Lew on saxophone and at the helm.
And what a band it became.
The Little Big Band developed into a familiar presence around Kansas City and Johnson County, performing for audiences at places such as LC’s Barbeque Restaurant in Martin City, the Kansas City Jazz Museum and other local venues and events.
Over the years, Lew expanded not only the size of the band, but its musical library as well. Today, that collection includes more than 2,000 musical arrangements.
That’s a lot of music.
It’s also a lot of years.
Years of rehearsals. Years of performances. Years of musicians coming and going, friendships being made, and countless hours spent doing something simply because they loved it.
Keeping the Music Going
There’s something special about a big band.
It takes a group of people willing to show up, listen to one another and play together. It takes commitment. It takes patience. And it takes someone willing to keep the whole thing moving.
For the Little Big Band, that person has been Lew.
Kansas City has a legendary jazz history, with generations of musicians carrying the tradition forward. Lew and the Little Big Band are part of that continuing story—not necessarily from the pages of the most famous jazz histories, but from the clubs, stages, rehearsals, friendships and countless hours of music that keep Kansas City jazz alive.
And perhaps that’s what I love most about Lew’s story.
He’s not simply looking back at the music.
He’s still making it.
A Saxophone, Some Friends and a Lot of Years
What makes Lew’s story particularly remarkable is that the story isn’t finished.
He’s still playing.
Still showing up.
Still surrounded by musicians.
Still making music for an audience.
Even after a major surgery and the hard work of rehabilitation, Lew found his way back to the thing he loves.
He didn’t need a big stage.
He didn’t need a packed club.
He just needed his saxophone, his friends and a reason to play.
And maybe that’s the beautiful thing about music. It can follow us through every stage of life.
The venues may change. The audience may change. The circumstances may change. But the music can still be there.
Still Shining
After seeing the band in action, I can tell you this: the Little Big Band is still shining and going strong.
And so is Lew.
There’s something pretty wonderful about watching someone in his 80s continue to do something he clearly loves. In a world that sometimes seems to measure everything by what’s new, fast or young, there’s something refreshing about a man who simply keeps showing up and playing his music.
Lew Roht reminds us that you don’t necessarily stop doing the things you love just because you get older.
Sometimes you adapt.
Sometimes you recover.
Sometimes you find a new place to play.
And sometimes, you just keep playing.
Because sometimes the best history isn’t found in a book.
Sometimes it’s sitting beside the bandstand, listening to a 80-something-year-old musician pick up his instrument and play.