From A Green Desire, a 2001 novel by Anton Myrer:
And later still there was a smoke-laden cave of a room where a fat, jovial black woman asked Central in a ringing contralto to give her Doctor Jazz. Behind her on the stand a jazz band thumped and wailed, and a young man with his hair parted neatly in the center, his cherubic face dead white, tilted high a gleaming horn and the melody spilled forth in bursts of pure hilarity, like pealing bells, like heralds in royal fanfare, and she knew she’d never heard anything played with such reckless abandon in all her life.
“Who is he?” she demanded, clapping her hands. “I’ve got to know.”
“Beiderbecke,” said Chapin, who always, distressingly, knew everything. “Bix Beiderbecke.”
“Bix?” she cried, laughing. “What a wonderful, impossible name! Anyone called Bix—”