Chapters
Shownotes Transcript
Lee Morgan was a jazz trumpeter.
A prodigy who rocketed into the scene as a 15-year-old kid from Philadelphia and proved he had staying power. His music and legacy endure to this day. If you were to draw out the shape of Lee's career, it would look like two soaring peaks separated by a valley. A valley that for Lee was marked by addiction.
Like many other musicians of his time, opioid use upended his life until heroin took precedence over everything he held most dear, including music. But Lee was one of the lucky ones. He found a way out. His life took a turn for the better the moment he met Helen, the woman who loved him, nursed him back to health, helped revive his career, and then ended his life.
I'm Vanessa Richardson, and this is Serial Killers, a Spotify podcast. You can find us here every Monday. Be sure to check us out on Instagram at Serial Killers Podcast. We'd love to hear from you. If you're listening on the Spotify app, swipe up to share your thoughts. Stay with us. Hey, y'all. Marci Martin here with a little Tampax story. One time I went on vacation in the Bahamas with some friends, and of course, I got my period.
I didn't want anything to stop me from living my best life on my trip. So I was like, why not be brave and try Tampax? Before that, I really just thought tampons were for adults, and I definitely thought they'd be uncomfortable. Guess what, y'all? They really aren't. It might take a few tries, but once it's in right, you shouldn't feel it, which is great. For a better way to period, just add Tampax.
Okay, so true story, I was scared to try tampons because I didn't know if they'd be able to protect like pads. Took me a few tries, but once inserted properly, tampons shouldn't hurt. If you feel it, it's not in far enough. Believe me, it changed my life. Like pads, tampons offer up to 100% leak-free protection, whether you're on the go or chilling at home. Now I do and wear whatever I want on my period, thanks to the freedom and flexibility I get with adding Tampax to my routine. Learn more at Tampax.com.
This episode is brought to you by Oli. Back to school means food changes, early breakfasts, school lunches, after school snacks, and let's not even talk about dinner. Oli's here to help you cover all the wellness spaces, from daily multivitamins to belly balancing probiotics. Oli's got your fam covered. Buy three and get one free with code BUNDLE24 at O-L-L-Y dot com. These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease.
Before we get into this story, amongst the many sources we used, we found Tom Perchard's book, Lee Morgan, His Life, Music, and Culture, Larry Rainey Thomas' book, The Lady Who Shot Lee Morgan, and the documentary, I Called Him Morgan, directed by Casper Collins, extremely helpful to our research. Why does anyone murder?
On one side of the spectrum, there are serial killers, the cases we normally cover every week on this show. Their victims are usually strangers, chosen because they happen to fit some sort of physical profile, or because the circumstances were such that they thought they could get away with it. Oftentimes, the act of committing violence is all the reason there is.
Today's story exists on the complete other side of the spectrum. The body count may be fewer, but the motive is just as difficult to comprehend. We don't have a name for a killer like Helen Moore.
It's the 1960s. Helen Moore lives in Manhattan between 8th and 9th Avenue in a neighborhood known as Hell's Kitchen. She's been living in New York for years. She moved from North Carolina back in 1945 after her first husband unexpectedly died.
She traveled to the city to visit her in-laws after his funeral, expecting to stay for no more than two weeks, but she never left. She found work as a telephone operator by day and community within New York's music scene at night. She's become a regular face at many of the city's jazz clubs, like Birdland, which is just a short walk from her apartment on 53rd Street. It seems like everyone knows her sharp tongue and quick wit.
Though Helen presents a tough exterior, she's a nurturer by nature. Her home is something of a safe haven for the city's queer and black communities, and a watering hole for its musicians. "People are people," she says, and she welcomes them all to drop by her place unannounced, if they're ever between sets or simply looking for some good food, good music, and a good time.
It's the winter of 1967 when Helen opens her front door to Benny Green, a friend and jazz trombonist, and another man standing behind him. The man's young, in his late 20s, and he looks to be down on his luck. He's missing a few teeth and, despite the freezing temperatures outside, has no coat on. Benny says his name is Lee Morgan.
Helen recognizes Lee. She's seen him around her place before, but there's something about him standing there that stirs something inside Helen. Her heart can't help but go out to him. She asks Lee what happened to his coat and, after learning he's a musician who no longer owns an instrument, asks what happened to his trumpet too. Lee's honest with her. He says he pawned both to pay for drugs. Before the night's over, Helen offers to help get both back.
And so begins the most consequential relationship of their lives. Helen's 13 years older than Lee. What starts as a maternal relationship turns physical and eventually evolves into something more, a mutual love, verging on a mutual dependency. ♪
Lee's talents had always been undeniable. Starting as a pianist and then picking up the trumpet at 15, he began making music with legends like Art Blakey and John Coltrane straight out of high school. He toured the country with Blakey's acclaimed band, the Jazz Messengers. And not long after, heroin entered the picture.
At the time, misconceptions about the use of narcotics and opioids ran rampant in jazz circles. Many musicians looked to heroin as a way to amplify their creativity, including some of the most successful, like Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, and Cab Calloway.
Interviews with contemporary musicians in Thomas Perchard's book Lee Morgan: His Life, Music and Culture claim opioid use was so normalized that Art Blakey would often pay his bandmates in drugs and pocket the cash paid by the venues. And though Lee's struggles with addiction overlapped with some career highs, like composing his biggest hit ever, The Sidewinder, heroin eventually brought his musical ambitions to a standstill.
His bandmates couldn't rely on him anymore. They never knew if he would show up to rehearsals or gigs, and if he did, whether he'd be sober. Life for Lee got so bad that he started sleeping on pool tables in bars or on curbs outside of clubs without shoes on. On one occasion, Lee showed up to rehearsal with a bandage wrapped around his head, and when his bandmates asked about it, he shrugged off their concern.
Lee had overdosed and fallen asleep with the side of his head pressed against the hot metal of a radiator. The hair never grew back, and he lived with the scar for the rest of his life.
After that night in 1967, Helen becomes determined to get Lee's career back on track. He begins staying at her place in Hell's Kitchen, and before long, they're inseparable. Basically everywhere Lee goes, Helen's right there beside him, carrying his trumpet, keeping him in line. Helen says in no uncertain terms, she took control of him. Though they never officially marry, she starts introducing herself as Lee's wife.
Helen pays for Lee to attend an outpatient rehabilitation program. She even moves with him to the Bronx to be closer to the clinic. Lee's tried rehab before, but through no lack of trying, it didn't stick.
This time, though, with Helen's support, he's able to combat his addiction with the help of methadone, a synthetic drug that targets the same receptors as opioids like heroin without delivering the euphoric "high." Beginning in the 60s, doctors use it to reduce withdrawal symptoms while weaning patients off narcotics. It's slower-acting than other opioids, but still addictive and should only be used with medical oversight.
Lee's able to make the switch from heroin to methadone. But by some accounts, he trades one addiction for another. And another. Friends claim he goes on to keep his refrigerator stocked with methadone, which he uses to self-medicate. And he reportedly also picks up a cocaine habit.
While it's not the ideal outcome, the changes help Lee refocus on music. His old friends are quick to welcome him back. And Helen takes on a new role in Lee's life: his manager.
She books his gigs, sits in on rehearsals, collects his payments, and negotiates his contracts for him. As she does, Lee throws his energy into creating a new sound. He picks up the flugelhorn and experiments with new tones, rhythms, and arrangements. By the summer of '69, his band embarks on a tour across the United States and records a live album at the Lighthouse Cafe in California.
After finding it difficult to book larger venues, Lee becomes more outspoken. He adds his voice to the Jazz and Peoples movement, an offshoot of the Civil Rights movement advocating for more representation for Black musicians on TV.
According to Stuart Nicholson's reporting for Jazzwise magazine, Lee's fight is aided by Helen. She hosts dinner parties for all kinds of musicians and showbiz personalities, people who could theoretically help elevate Lee's career. As Lee's star continues to rise from the ashes, he begins to crave more independence in his personal life.
Friends notice a shift in their relationship. After years of love and devotion, Lee and Helen begin getting into hostile fights. On one occasion, a friend recalls Lee dumping a bottle of champagne over Helen's head and shouting at her to get out. Lee stops going back to their apartment, sometimes for days at a time. It's not long before Helen learns he's seeing other women. Younger women, closer to his age.
For Helen, the cheating feels like an affront to everything she's done. But she can't bring herself to leave. So, not knowing what else to do, she looks the other way. Until she can't anymore.
It's February 1972. Helen Moore confronts the man she's shared a life with for over five years, Lee Morgan. She knows about his cheating and she tells him she can't live like this. It's not who she is. She says she's taking a trip to Chicago on her own to get away. But Lee tells her not to. He asks her to stay, so she does.
She's in the city on February 18th when a snowstorm hits New York. That evening, Lee's having dinner with a young woman he's been seeing, Judith Johnson. They finish eating and Judith tells Lee that she has to drive home to Jersey. She doesn't want to get stuck in the snow. Lee asks if she can drive him up to the Bronx. He has to pick up his horn for a gig that Helen booked for the band.
Judith agrees, but along the way they get stuck in the storm. Judith's car hits a slick spot on the road and they get into an accident. The car gets totaled, but luckily they don't get hurt, and they're close enough to walk to Lee's apartment. When they arrive, Lee goes upstairs, barely speaks to Helen, and is back downstairs with his horn in no time.
By Judith's estimation, there's already 4 to 5 inches of snow on the ground, but Lee insists he needs to get to his set. He's done letting his band down, so they call a cab and head to the venue, Slug's Saloon in the East Village. Judith doesn't plan to stay long. She tells Lee she still has to get back to Jersey.
Back at the apartment, Helen's mostly alone with her thoughts. She knows Lee's up to something. She once caught him kissing one woman and heard through the jazz grapevine that he was seriously involved with another young woman, not knowing they were referring to Judith.
Waiting there, Helen says something comes over her. Though she hadn't been to the clubs at all that week, she decides to pay a visit to Slug's to see Lee's set that night. At some point, she tells a friend about her plan, and that friend begs her not to go. But Helen doesn't listen.
She gets dressed, puts her keys and wallet in her purse, and, as she's headed out the door, catches sight of the silver-plated handgun Lee purchased for her protection. She drops that in the bag, too.
Meanwhile, Lee arrives late to his set at Slug's, still a little shaken from the storm and the accident. According to one bandmate, his nerves are so fried he throws up before he hits the stage. But it doesn't affect his playing.
Lee blares solo after solo, as in control of his gift as he ever was. The club is emptier than usual, but there's still a crowd and sawdust on the floor to soak up spilled drinks. The room's filled with laughter, shouting, applause, and music.
Then, just as the band's midnight set winds down, the front door of Slug's swings open and Lee sees Helen silhouetted in the doorframe, her oversized hat unmistakable even in the dim light.
Helen takes a seat with a friend, waiting for Lee to finish. But when the band takes their break, Lee doesn't greet her. Instead, he makes his way to where Judith is sitting and begins flirting. Right there, out in the open. Irate, Helen walks to Lee's bandmates at the bar and asks them to intervene on her behalf. She wants Lee to send Judith home, but Lee makes it clear he's unwilling to cooperate.
So Helen storms the front row where Lee and Judith are waiting. Judith is surprised to see Helen. She's under the impression that Lee and Helen's relationship has ended. And yet here she is, accusing Lee of cheating and Judith of being the other woman. The fight between Helen and Lee reaches a climax when Helen asks Lee to tell the truth and Lee shouts, loud enough for all to hear, that he's not with Helen anymore.
Their relationship is over. As the denial echoes through the bar, Helen strikes Lee across the face. Whether it happens out of reflex or anger, Helen's not sure. She just says it feels good to hear the sound of her hand coming in contact with his face.
But tempers continue to escalate. Members of the crowd watch Leigh push Helen to the front door and throw her onto the sidewalk outside. She falls into a pile of fresh snow, cold, wet, angry, and embarrassed. And by the time she gets to her feet, Leigh's nowhere in sight.
Presumably, he never sees Helen's purse come loose, the gun slide out of it, or Helen pick it up off the sidewalk. Back inside, one of Lee's bandmates notices Helen's missing her coat. He and his girlfriend are about to give it to her when she re-enters the bar.
They watch Helen move through the crowd, not knowing her hand is gripping a gun inside her purse. Lee and his band are about to start another set. The beginning of the song, Angela, plays in honor of the civil rights leader, Angela Davis.
According to Helen, she doesn't register much of what's happening around her. She's just focused on Lee, who doesn't see her. He's turned the other way. She catches flashes of faces and registers the buzz of voices, but all she sees is Lee, until she's standing right behind him.
She taps him on the shoulder, he turns around, and what she remembers most from the moment is the rage in his eyes. Rage directed at her. She takes the gun and points it in his direction. And though he tried to grab the weapon from her hands, he's too late. She pulls the trigger.
The sound cuts through the noise of the crowd. At first, people aren't sure what happened, but it quickly becomes clear.
As for Helen's reaction after the gunshot, accounts differ. According to Helen, the composure she'd been holding throughout the night falls apart the moment Lee hits the floor. She instantly regrets her actions. Tears stream down her face as she tells Lee how sorry she is over and over. She can't believe what she's done. It all feels like a dream she'll wake up from soon enough.
Helen says Lee apologizes too. As she kneels over his body, which is lying outstretched on the sawdust-covered floor, he forgives her. He says, "I'm sorry too, Helen. I know you didn't mean to do this." Others don't remember the apologies, just Helen screaming as Lee bleeds out on the floor, "Why did you make me do this?"
Lee Morgan doesn't die instantly. Thanks to the snowstorm that night, it takes almost an hour for an ambulance to reach Slug Saloon. Had it been a clear night, some believe he might have lived. But when the 33-year-old musician reaches the hospital, he's pronounced dead on arrival. And as a result of that night, the jazz community loses not one legend, but two.
Helen all but disappears, never to show her face in New York again. On February 25th, 1972, friends, family, and jazz lovers from all over descend on the Church of the Advocate to pay respect to Lee Morgan. The crowds last all day. At night, more than a thousand people pack into the church for the funeral. The shock is palpable, and so is the grief.
Friends and family tearfully share poems and memories, while some of the world's greatest living musicians honor Lee in song. It's a bleak day. The jazz community had lost its prodigal son after he'd just returned stronger than ever.
Meanwhile, Helen Moore sits in a jail cell on Rikers Island, awaiting trial. According to her, life after pulling that trigger feels like a dream. Nothing feels real. And that's maybe how, in the face of all evidence, her lawyer convinces her to plead not guilty to murder charges. Even though she knows better, she killed the person she loved most in the world. She was there.
And so were countless witnesses. Adding insult to injury, before the trial starts, Helen fires that same lawyer after he only visits her once in the weeks leading up to the trial, which essentially leaves her on her own. Helen is ultimately convicted of second-degree manslaughter and sentenced to a prison term. She reportedly serves two years before she's released on probation.
And then she all but disappears from public life. Around 1974 or 1975, when she gets out of prison, she leaves the city without saying goodbye to the community she loved so much. She packs her bags and leaves the lights, noise, and music of New York behind and goes back to North Carolina, where she was raised.
Little is known about Helen's life before arriving in New York, but what we do know tells the story of a difficult life, likely filled with abuse.
She was born in 1926 on a small farm near Chalotte, North Carolina. She had her first child at only 13 years old and her second at 14. At 17, she married a 39-year-old bootlegger. The circumstances of their marriage are unknown, but two years into their relationship, he died of an accidental drowning, and she arrived in New York shortly thereafter.
Following Lee's murder and Helen leaving New York, she ends up in Wilmington, North Carolina, not far from where she was raised. To keep her mind busy, she takes care of her aging mother and gets involved in the local church. She finds a new community, different mouths to feed. But her love of jazz never fades, and according to family, her actions that night in 1972 haunt her for the rest of her life.
But she never talks about it. Then, one day in 1988, Helen enrolls in a night class at Shaw University.
Helen's in her early 60s. The course is taught by a jazz aficionado and radio announcer named Larry Rainey Thomas. Larry begins one lecture by passing out his bio, and as Larry hands Helen a slip of paper, Helen mentions that she loves jazz. In fact, she says, her husband was a jazz musician.
For obvious reasons, this interests Larry. And a smile comes over Helen's face as she tells him her husband's name. Lee. Lee Morgan, she says. Larry is stunned. He knows he's standing in front of the woman who killed one of jazz's greatest musicians. Naturally, he asks if he can interview her. She turns him down in the moment. But eight years later, Larry receives an unexpected phone call
It's Helen. She's finally ready to give her side of the story. And Larry captures it all on tape.
Segments of the audio that Larry Rainey Thomas captured are later included in the award-winning documentary, I Called Him Morgan. For the film, director Casper Collin interviewed many of Lee's friends and fellow musicians. They talk about how shattered they felt after Lee's death, not only because their friend was gone, but because Helen had been the cause.
Benny Maupin was in San Francisco recording with bandleader Herbie Hancock when he got the call that Lee was dead and Helen was his killer. He says he could barely reconcile his new reality. Helen was warm, loving, and compassionate. How could she have done it? Why would she kill the person she loved most in the world?
Even Helen didn't have that answer. In the interview with Larry, she offered a lot of regret, but little in the way of motive. In the heat of the moment, she said, she lost it. Larry planned a follow-up interview, but Helen died in February 1996, just one month later. She took with her any chance of getting more answers, leaving Lee's friends to fill in the gaps for themselves.
It took years, Benny says, but he ultimately forgave Helen for what she had done. He blamed the incident on a reaction to something dark in her past. As he put it, that was temporary insanity. When she killed him, she killed herself.
Thanks for listening to Serial Killers, a Spotify podcast. We're here with a new episode every Monday. Be sure to check us out on Instagram at Serial Killers Podcast. And we'd love to hear from you. So if you're listening on the Spotify app, swipe up and give us your thoughts. Stay safe out there.
Serial Killers is a Spotify podcast. This episode was written by Molly Quinlan, edited by Connor Sampson and Maggie Admire, researched by Mickey Taylor and Chelsea Wood, fact-checked by Adriana Romero and Laurie Siegel, and sound designed by Alex Button. Our head of programming is Julien Boirot, our head of production is Nick Johnson, and Spencer Howard is our post-production supervisor. I'm your host, Vanessa Richardson.