Jean was told that she was tone deaf, or whatever the term is for those people who can't remember a melody logically. I was always bothered by people like that and sort of decided not to associate with them too much…but (Jean Rigg’s) mind working toward singing a melody was one of the greatest delights I've ever experienced. She decided once that "Happy Days Are Here Again" was the best song to sing and think about. She sat sideways in her chair -- an upholstered arm chair that had a plain red overcover. She had her beanbag ash tray and she looked at the ceiling thinking about and singing happy days are here again for many afternoons and evenings. Lee (Guilliatt) and I would sit and watch in fascination because we could see her groping for the picture of the melody. She stopped, looked at Lee, and Lee would sing it for her. Sometimes they would sing it together and Jean would have no trouble, but when she had to do it alone there would be trouble. I drew it for her. I've always been able to draw melodies, but that didn't help. People who cannot carry a tune just don't have the picture of what there is to do no matter how clearly it's explained. It doesn't mean they are without music. With Jean, it meant she was more musical than anyone I had ever known. I could see her and see how music was going through her senses, and learned all about the sensation of listening to music through Jean. She finally talked me into giving her my recording of Schoenberg's "Walpurgisnacht" and I gladly did because I had every reason then to sit and watch her hear it, so I could learn so much more about hearing. Jean Rigg is musical, and a master at hearing. (excerpt from There’s a Cow in Manhattan, Part 11, c. 1965).