Lisa Beth

Today, Veteran’s Day is “observed”as a National Holiday. Personally, this Veteran’s Day has been the most meaningful one of my 25 years. Up until today, honestly, Veteran’s Day was the day that bankers had off work. Another National Holiday where–oh yeah–we don’t get any mail today. It was only “observed” at a distance by me. A passing thought toward our country’s veterans when I’d see a flag, but kind of came in 2nd place to the 4th of July for my patriotic awareness. The day to celebrate our Independence took precedence in my mind over the day to celebrate those who have gone through wars to give it to us.
Today, I saw it up close–in a much more personal way, and I have Jack to thank. And I am so grateful to God for orchestrating our paths to cross in a way that, I believe, has enriched us both.
As you know, Jill and I had talked about a way to get the song, “Tell Me About Your War” to Jack. She did some research this past week and made phonecalls to some of her connections at the 934th Airlift Officer’s Club in Bloomington. As it turns out, they normally would not be open on Veteran’s Day, being that it is a National Holiday, but this particular Veteran’s Day, they were open due to a meeting that the Board was having at 5pm. (Coincidence? I don’t think so) She talked to the president of the Officer’s Club, a friend of hers, to see if I’d be able to come sing at 6pm after the meeting. He agreed, and so I got the call from Jill on Friday afternoon saying that things were falling into place for Monday, and that I should keep that night open.
Last night, my church community gathered around me as I shared my heart and my excitement for this amazing opportunity. They prayed for me, and for Jack–a stranger to them, but I could feel their love for him too. I have known that their prayers– and the prayers of other too– were with me tonight.
After a slightly stressful start to the evening with a detour –due in part to my ongoing horrible relationship with directions, and a poorly lit sign– Eric and I made it out of the long winding roads of Ft. Snelling Park (oops–thankyou, Officer, Sir) and into the parking lot of the Officer’s Club. Jill was waiting outside for us, and greeted me with a hug. I introduced her to Eric, and she led us inside.

I wondered where Jack was in the line of men at the bar, throwing down dice and laughing, their preferred drinks on the rocks in short glasses or in bottles in hand as they gambled. There were about 20 men and women at the bar, and a few others scattered at tables in the dimly lit room. As we entered with all our equipment, the bartender pointed over the counter, smiling and directing us to one corner of the room, under a TV screen where there was an outlet. Jill thanked him and then asked if she could buy us a drink. Next thing I knew I was being handed a coke, and Larry, the president of the Club was coming over to introduce himself. He told me he’d “announce” me and “get everyone to quiet down” as soon as I was ready to go.
As Eric and I finished setting up, and my eyes adjusted to the lighting, I saw Jack up at the bar, back to me, engrossed in the dice games. He probably knew there was some musician getting ready to play, but he had not yet recognized me, and according to Jill, he was still clueless as to what was about to take place. I gave Larry a thumbs up signal, and he proceeded to quiet everyone down and turn things over to me and my keyboard. This was the moment. The eyes of every veteran in that room were on me, waiting to hear me play.
I began by telling the story of how I work at a dental office in Edina, and how this past year, I had the most amazing conversation with a patient –someone who was in this room–about his experiences in the Navy. I shared about how much that conversation meant to me, because of how my Grandfather was in the Navy and had passed away when I was 12. How hearing this man’s stories felt like I was being able to hear the stories my Grandfather could never tell me. I told how this person inspired me to write this song, a lyrical letter to my Grandfather. How thankful I was for that encounter. As I shared, I kept my eye on Jack, still sitting at the bar, his back to me, head tilted slightly toward me, drink in hand, listening. I was still being illusive about the identity of this “man who inspired me” but then, as I shared more of the story of that day in July, I watched as he slowly realized that I was talking about him. He leaned over to Jill, who sat beside him and whispered a question. She smiled and nodded. I kept sharing and watched as Jack turned around in his bar stool and faced me. I held eye contact with him and we both smiled. As I wrapped up my story, I looked around the room into the faces of those men and women who had fought for my country, and I was overcome with emotion. My voice caught, and tears came to my eyes. I told them how I know sometimes they may not feel appreciated for what they’ve given, and how I know that people haven’t always given them the honor and recognition that they deserve. But I wanted them to know that from the bottom of my heart, here is one girl tonight saying Thank you. I thanked them for what they gave and sacrificed and fought for. Through wet eyes I tried to convey my gratitude for their service to their country- to my country, OUR country.
Then I sang my song, “Jack, this is for you”

There was polite clapping when I finished, but in general a quietness in the room. One man in front sitting at one of the tables asked if I’d play more. I laughed, and asked if he had any requests. Someone yelled out “Danny Boy!!”, but the man said he wanted me to play one of my favorites. My mind went completely blank, being put on the spot, and only prepared with that one song. The only songs that came to mind were “God Bless America” and “Amazing Grace”. I chose Amazing Grace, and sang the first 2 verses. Afterward, Larry thanked me and said that he calls his wife, Grace, “Amazing Grace.” Grace was there, sitting next to Jill, and said that when she heard me singing it, she cried through the whole thing. She told Eric to “tell your wife that there was not a dry eye in this whole place tonight”.
It’s funny, cause I couldn’t hardly see the words or chords to my song in front of me with the dim lighting, and I know I hit several wrong notes because I was playing with a microphone between me and my keyboard right at middle C, and very much in the way, but it’s all we had to work with, not having an “L” mike stand… but even with all this, somehow, people were touched, people saw through all that to the heart of what I was trying (in my very human flawed way) to communicate.
Afterward, Jack came right up to me, and thanked me for my song over and over. I was able to introduce him to Eric, and what an honor that was for me to have Eric finally meet the man who inspired the song. Then Eric and I got to hear a whole batch of new stories as Jack and Larry shared back and forth. Jack said that he wants to “promote me” and that he wants me to play at more events at the Officer’s Club. He went on and on saying that he wanted to buy a CD of the song. (Little does he know he’s getting one for Christmas) His response was such a relief to me. I kept saying that I hope I didn’t embarrass him, but that someone who is so inspirational should be singled out! He truly seemed honored, and went on to share with me on his own some of the things Jill had told me, about his daily visits to the VA Hospital for counseling from P.T.S.S.
But the man I spoke with tonight was the same man I spoke with that day in July. The same sparkle in his eye as he shared with Eric and I, his intent audience, about his experiences. I felt hope again for him. I did not see a man withdrawn. And while I am aware that these bouts of depression come and go, I can only hope that Jack will remember this night, and be able to heal over time, knowing that he has made a difference in someone’s life.
Jill kept telling me that what I did for Jack, and for the others in that bar room was a beautiful gift, as she held my face in her hands and kissed me on the cheek. I watched as she went over and kissed Eric in the same manner, and had to laugh, because it was just so East Coast. So Italian or something, like we were family now.
And I couldn’t help but feel that it was I who had been given a beautiful gift.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 12th, 2007 at 3:07 pm and is filed under My Blogs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.