I have long understood that music is a powerful force for good when called upon by the right people in the right circumstances, but last night I witnessed something really rather profound, something I will never forget. I watched as my friend, seriously ill and about to go under the surgeons knife for the fourth, and last, time picked up a guitar and sang. Sure he had to choose his songs wisely, but they served him well, and for ten short minutes Im sure he was transported back to the Folk Clubs of the 1960s when he was a young man and his songs were anthems to those times that were a-changin. His voice, so pained yet so true, was matched by the steely determination in his eyes as his hands, all but crippled by the deterioration of the nerves in his fingers, picked out the melody on his guitar as if they had simply forgotten they no longer worked and were released at last; there was not a man or woman in the room who didnt respond to this superhuman battle of music and human will against the ravages of time and disease. Music won. Hell pay for it today. Probably wont be able to speak or use his hands, but for one night he was 25 again and he soared. Music did that. And I will never forget it.
Posted on: Fri, 10 Oct 2014 07:17:21 +0000
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