Quan el 1961 van tancar Chet Baker a la presó d'un petit poble de la Toscana (1 any i 7 mesos), sortosament li van deixar conservar la trompeta. Això va donar peu a un dels discs més estranys de la història del jazz "Chet Baker, dentro le mura", gravat de fora els murs de la presó estant. Ho explica millor James Gavin a la seva biografia de Chet Baker:
"The Quintetto di Lucca tried to cheer him up by gathering outside the back of the prison, shouting, “Buon giorno, Chettino!” and serenading him. According to local legend, a sadder sound drifted out of his cell: that of a lone trumpeter playing “Il Silenzio” (The Silence), a lament used at Italian military funerals, like taps. Baker’s own grief flooded from his horn in the summer of 1961; for years to come, nearby residents recalled hearing him play “Someone to Watch Over Me” and “My Buddy.” After dusk, when traffic died down and stillness hung in the air, Baker’s music, like the ringing of church bells, seemed to float down from heaven. Gusmano Cesaretti, a film producer who grew up in Lucca, never forgot listening outside the prison as a teenager. “It was magnificent, it was almost a spiritual experience,” he said. Standing near the jail with a primitive tape machine, the owner of a local music shop created the first of countless Chet Baker bootlegs: an echoey 45-rpm disc entitled “Chet Baker, dentro le mura” (Inside the Walls). The sleeve bore a crude brown-on-white illustration of a window grating in a stone wall, behind which stood an emaciated figure playing the trumpet."
"The Quintetto di Lucca tried to cheer him up by gathering outside the back of the prison, shouting, “Buon giorno, Chettino!” and serenading him. According to local legend, a sadder sound drifted out of his cell: that of a lone trumpeter playing “Il Silenzio” (The Silence), a lament used at Italian military funerals, like taps. Baker’s own grief flooded from his horn in the summer of 1961; for years to come, nearby residents recalled hearing him play “Someone to Watch Over Me” and “My Buddy.” After dusk, when traffic died down and stillness hung in the air, Baker’s music, like the ringing of church bells, seemed to float down from heaven. Gusmano Cesaretti, a film producer who grew up in Lucca, never forgot listening outside the prison as a teenager. “It was magnificent, it was almost a spiritual experience,” he said. Standing near the jail with a primitive tape machine, the owner of a local music shop created the first of countless Chet Baker bootlegs: an echoey 45-rpm disc entitled “Chet Baker, dentro le mura” (Inside the Walls). The sleeve bore a crude brown-on-white illustration of a window grating in a stone wall, behind which stood an emaciated figure playing the trumpet."