It was a great Sunday afternoon, down in southern Kentucky.
This area is home to the waters of Lake Cumberland. The Cumberland River was dammed by the Army Corps of Engineers back in the 1950’s. The idea was really about controlling the Cumberland and keeping it from flooding cities and towns downstream. According to Wikipedia, the resulting lake has saved over an estimated 500 million dollars in property loss since its completion. The resulting reservoir could cover all of Kentucky in three inches of water. It truly is impressive to see and the people around this area who call it home are as exceptional as its waters.
We came into town to play a show for our friends the Campbells, who live near a small town called Nancy. There is a community center where we did an outdoor concert, with the makings of a full moon through the trees and a steady chorus of tree frogs mixing with the applause. There was also some wonderful bourbon, mellow and smooth that awaited us after the show. It had been eight years since we last played the area and so we made the most of the evening, having just driven down from Cincinnati that day. Kentucky is magical and I awoke tired, and wishing I had three more days to just soak in the beauty that is Lake Cumberland.
In the town of Somerset, there is also a small retirement home, also called the Cumberland. I love coming to these retirement homes as they rarely get a professional show, let alone live music. Brian and I make it a point to visit such places. It is part of our mission as musicians.
The activity director was excited that Brian and I agreed to present a Mother’s Day show to this group of 20 residents. When we pulled up, I could tell from the building that this was going to be an interesting show.
The young lady who greeted us at the door had several piercings and was wearing a band t-shirt that read “Suicide Brothers.” The graphic on the front was two grey skinned, zombie-like people. Not exactly what I would want to see being worn if I was a resident at the home, especially on Mother’s Day. She was shy, but nice to us and I chalked her get-up as me just getting older. I am sure those Suicide Boys have a wonderful, uplifting show.
The home was simple in that it was made of cinder block walls, painted a light gray in the cafeteria, where we were to play. Some pictures and sayings were also put up around the room, in an effort to make it less dreary. The staff was working hard, as it was right at the end of lunch. Most of the residents were in the dining room when we came in with our equipment. It’s not hard to sense if there is love in such a home. The interaction between staff and residents usually is easy to read. I could tell that this place had a lot of love, as sturdy as those cinder block walls and the laminated floor.
Such places like the Cumberland Retirement Home always have a character or two. Right before we started playing, the resident character came in. She had long, white hair and was wearing a white sweater that had a Native American pattern on it. She also had on a navy-blue skirt that stopped just over her ankles. Her eyes were lively and danced. I knew she was going to be fun from the impish smile on her face. It was as if she was the official Mother for Mother’s Day, I thought. She was excited that these strange guys from Iowa and Illinois inexplicably were here to put on a show at her home.
As soon as we started playing, she started moving her hands across the table in front of her like it was a piano. Darting her hands up and down an imaginary keyboard and looking over at us with a big smile on her face. The energy started building as we switched over to an Irish reel. She decided then to stand up and became part of the band. Immediately, the energy in the room changed as the other residents started to rouse out of wherever their minds were to enjoy this unusual show.
A woman was visiting her husband that day. He appeared to be a victim of a severe stroke. I couldn’t tell if he was aware of her being there or not. She was gently leaning next to him. I especially wanted to make her feel happy as I could only imagine how hard it must be to see your love in such a condition. I could tell she was delighted that her Sunday visit was not going to be the same this week. She would look up from her husband and smile while we chatted with the group between songs. No one was taking anything seriously for the next hour. We started “Rocky Mountain Express” and all of a sudden, she jumped up. To our surprise, she started clogdancing to the song and everyone in the room started clapping in encouragement. We were all now having a great time. I looked down the hall past the cafeteria as we started playing “That’ll be the Day.” Two young women were dancing to the music. I felt like it was I who was being treated to an event, not the other way around. Residents came down from their rooms to see what the commotion was about. There was a lovely lady, dressed in a red outfit. She wheeled herself to the right of where I was playing and started singing along with us. Families who came to visit were flabbergasted that here was this band playing all this fun music at the nursing of all places.
The hour quickly rolled by and we finished by playing “God Bless America.” The lady with the silver white hair stood in front of her fellow residents and belted out the song, her hand over her heart.
We thanked everyone and I said that Brian and I wished them “Health, Happiness and a lack of Humidity.” The residents and staff laughed at the joke.
“I hope you come back, now” the lady with the long white hair said.
“We’ll get back, don’t you worry” I said. “And keep practicing that piano.”
We had seven hours of driving ahead of us. Already tired from shows the last several nights prior, we knew that playing this show would get us late to our homes and even that much more exhausted. I knew my voice was going to be pretty hoarse for the next few days and that this show would just knock it back that much more.
But, it is exactly these types of shows, for these types of folks that I love the best. It doesn’t get any more real than sharing some joy for people who are in need of it. This is where music can be its most powerful and meaningful. Reminding all of us how special life can be and how special each of us are. It was a great moment we shared that Sunday afternoon, down in southern Kentucky near the Cumberland River, in the town of Somerset, at the Cumberland Retirement Home with its gray cinder block walls.
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