An unforgettable moment of connection through music

I played last Saturday at the farmer’s market in Indian Lake. It’s a long gig and I was somewhere in the third set doing mostly folk classics with my friend Jen singing harmonies. The crowd had thinned a lot and I was kind of winding down after almost 3 hours when I locked eyes with a tall gentleman of around my age standing quite far away on the sidewalk leaning on a cane. I could see he was singing the songs and after a bit he started to move in a very slow shuffle across the grass towards me with his wife right behind him. They came in very close, almost in a circle with me and Jen and he sang with a strong, confident, expressive voice. He knew the words to every song we sang. Between songs his speech was halting, and his wife explained this is their first time back in the Adirondacks since his stoke – actually, two strokes -- five years ago; his speech was deeply affected leaving him mostly aphasic. He had been a school guidance counselor and musician, played banjo, guitar, and several other instruments and knew hundreds of songs. He stood right there in the bright sunshine with his twinkling eyes and bright smile as we sang songs by Tom Paxton, Bob Dylan, Gordon Lightfoot, a lot of spirituals. I don’t know how many songs we played (6-7-10?) but I struggled to control my emotions at many times as we looked into each other’s eyes, and I felt the joy and spirit of this man and his amazing wife and extended family at this impromptu sing-along.

 After they left and I, drained, played a last song, many of the vendors, other shoppers and listeners who had witnessed this came up to me to express their feelings and share our astonishment. We know on some level that music holds a special place within us. And we believe and sense that the whole person is still present below the surface in someone with a severe brain injury. But to see it so clearly and unmistakably – to experience the joy, the human connection, and the resilience of the brain and body – is a rare and unforgettable lesson.

 And I have to once again call out the unique place of folk music in our lives and culture. Our common history of songs and the ability of all people to participate together in music making gives us the chance to share the spirit and power of art-making as a group. Captured in those songs is personal and cultural memory, messages and feelings, acceptance and communion. No matter how long ago, how changed or injured, how young or old we can share folk songs together.

 I didn’t catch his name – they bought a CD and I hope they contact me. I’d love to stay connected and to thank them for yesterday. He was wearing a Superman t-shirt and I really felt like I was in the presence of Superman who after a 5-year struggle like that could stand strong and straight and share his spirit and determination.

 I like to say that music can break down barriers and change the world. To see that so literally in one person, spreading to all the people within earshot on that field in front of Indian Lake school is something I hope (with luck) to never forget.

 

Barry Oreck