During the holidays when the family drove to New Jersey or the Bronx to visit Elinor’s relatives, Frederick was ready to go as soon as the presents were opened or the meal was done. He didn’t have any time for just talking and laughing—that didn’t come naturally to him. The idea of spending all of Christmas Day at someone else’s home was too much for him. No matter how tired the kids were, they always drove home the same day and never spent the night. Frederick was always ready to leave.

It wasn’t just family gatherings that made him uncomfortable. Even a neighbor’s adult party made Frederick socially awkward. He would talk only to Elinor, which isolated her from other people, the last thing she wanted.

“My mom, she liked to dance,” said Chris. “In fact, that was always a point of—it wasn’t a disagreement, it’s just that my father was self-conscious of the fact that, you know, he’s German, and he didn’t have a sense of rhythm. A song would come on and he’d be clapping to the wrong beat.”

There was something Frederick managed to truly bond with his sons over, and that was his obsession with jazz. He never lost his love for it, and he willingly, openly, and unapologetically shared it with his sons. The good times together as a family revolved around jazz, especially when Stephen and Chris were of the age when they could appreciate the sound. If there ever was a moment when Frederick became animated, it was when jazz was the topic of conversation. When the boys were old enough to play instruments, they challenged their dad on different styles. Chris was more inspired by bebop and post-bop jazz, like Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, and Miles Davis; Stephen loved Chet Baker. Frederick, however, was exclusively drawn to jazz from New Orleans. The debates were lively and fun. The three would even have impromptu jam sessions from time to time.22

“When he would come home from work, he would have rented either a brass instrument like a trombone or more frequently, a trumpet or clarinet, and then probably before dinner, he would pick up the horn and just play it furiously, in the most musical way he could conjure up,” said Chris. “He would put on a record of Louis Armstrong or Sidney Bechet and he would try to play along. But of course with no training or no intuition in terms of any brass technique, one out of every four notes might be right.”