The Blue Note smelled of gin and jazz and the particular kind of desperation tha
Hazel Montgomery found it on a Wednesday in October 1925, drawn by the sound of a trumpet that seemed to be arguing with itself in the key of heartbreak. She pushed through the heavy door on State Street and into warmth and noise and smoke that tasted of expensive tobacco and poor decisions. She was supposed to be at the library. She had a paper due on the economic impact of Prohibition that...
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