THERE'S a black man in our house!" I cried.
Mum came in to my bedroom to comfort me. "Don't worry he's a friend".
It was 1959. I was an Australian kid living in London and had never seen a black person before.
Uriel Porter was a beautiful man. Dad had given him lodgings, which were scarce for black men in 1950s London.
He was a Seventh Day Adventist, so Dad had offered him a room.
In the morning they awoke me with piano practice. So it was I got to know Gershwin and Porter, the religious classics and Negro spirituals. It was a great way to wake up.