Longtime musician and bandleader Pat Longo was a genuine Jersey boy.

His alacrity with the alto sax and love of the big band sound took him from New Jersey to Los Angeles with forays to Las Vegas, and eventually back home.

That’s where Longo died on March 26 at age 90 of the effects of COVID-19, his family said. He left behind a loving wife and family, and a legion of friends and fans of his music. 

He served in the Marine Corps in World War II and pursued his passion for music throughout his life. He played lead alto in the Harry James Band, performed for Hollywood’s elite and the Boy Scouts of America, played big rooms and one of Rod Stewart’s weddings. In fact, he played and led a band until mid-March. He started to feel ill after a trip to a crowded doctor’s office, and his condition suddenly declined dramatically.

When you’re fortunate enough to live nine decades, it can be easy for others to reflect that you’ve had a long life, as if longevity were death’s consolation prize. No life should be written off because others think it’s past its expiration date. Longo not only entertained others, but also inspired them.

That’s what I find so disconcerting about some approaches to the novel coronavirus pandemic as it rages on around the globe. You hear it in the political conversations that attempt to weigh the health of the economy against the safety of the population.

No one has raised that devil’s bargain at a higher level than President Trump, who all-cap tweeted on March 22, “WE CANNOT LET THE CURE BE WORSE THAN THE PROBLEM ITSELF. AT THE END OF THE 15 DAY PERIOD, WE WILL MAKE A DECISION AS TO WHICH WAY WE WANT TO GO!”

The chaos and mixed messaging surrounding the national response to the pandemic further feeds that uneasy sense that the pandemic, as some of Trump’s supporters have opined, would have the effect of “thinning the herd.” But while it’s true the coronavirus is taking a withering toll on the elderly, economically disadvantaged and those with pre-existing medical conditions, it doesn’t discriminate and is also killing the young and healthy, too.

Each of those lost had their own life to live and story to tell. Although many would probably be considered ordinary, they had a champion in the great folk singer John Prine, who twice survived cancer, but died this past week of the effects of COVID-19 at age 73. Prine’s life and music are being well remembered.

There was a time the Pat Longo Orchestra and his Hollywood Big Band was well known in Los Angeles. In addition to recording with many greats, his big band was among the best in the West. And he had swinging bands on both coasts.

Changing popular musical tastes and the flickering marquee didn’t dissuade Longo in the least. He not only played his sax and led the band, he was an influence on other musicians, too. He taught the music he loved to a new generation. Whether gifted or merely game, a long line of players learned to swing to their heart’s content thanks to Longo.

“He did have an interesting life,” son Steve “Sky” Longo says. “It was his love of music that got him to that stage. He loved to play.”

Growing up in a household with a mother who had sung with Harry James and a father who at times had two different big bands going, music was everywhere. Sky remembers his father as impeccably clean and nattily attired, and a meticulous practitioner on clarinet and alto sax. Pat maintained a quality sound until the end.

New Jersey musician Martin Hoff recalls in a post the encouragement Longo gave him.

“I met him at a Paterson musician's union hall rehearsal,” Hoff writes. “He must have heard something in my playing he liked because he asked me to occasionally rehearse with his band. Over the last couple of years I have played many of his rehearsals becoming a permanent sub. I was honored to play with his big band and honored and of course saddened to play his last rehearsal of his last band on March 10th.”

Sky Longo’s wife, the musician Lisa Coffey, says there’s a message in Longo’s life and devotion to music.

“I think Pat is an excellent example of the terrible losses this virus is causing - especially as he was 90, definitely in the age group that some might regard as ‘dispensable’ - while he was still playing and performing and swinging with the latest incarnation of his big band,” she says.

That’s how his family and friends will remember Pat Longo. Not as a 90-year-old man, but as someone who lived life as he played his music – swinging until the final note.

John L. Smith is an author and longtime columnist. He was born in Henderson and his family’s Nevada roots go back to 1881. His stories have appeared in Time, Readers Digest, The Daily Beast, Reuters, Ruralite and Desert Companion, among others. He also offers weekly commentary on Nevada Public Radio station KNPR. His newest book—a biography of iconic Nevada civil rights and political leader, Joe Neal— "Westside Slugger: Joe Neal’s Lifelong Fight for Social Justice” is published by University of Nevada Press and is available at Amazon.com. Contact him at [email protected]. On Twitter: @jlnevadasmith