There are disabled veterans around the corner...

This is a post I wrote for this ROS show.

Last Friday, I had a scheduled appointment for something minor, at the VA hospital in Jamaica Plain, MA. This was my second time and again I felt transformed somehow. I suggest anyone reading this, visit their local VA hospital at least once and just walk around a little. Go have lunch in the cafeteria, (anyone is welcome, there is no checking in at the front desk) talk with an employee or patient - or don’t talk, just observe - be humbled.

One thing you might notice is that it’s quiet. You don’t see much small talk with the patients, maybe some with the staff, but even that is subtle – It seems there is just too much to say, to actually speak.

The old men sit or stroll with a deep harnessed dignity. I found myself wondering what keeps some of these men going, many were alone and obviously in slow pain. Then I thought that these men must know the value of life better than anyone; Every day they can go on, is a day they can honor those fallen who gave their life – for life.

In my imagination, these old veterans would be treated with more reverence than your average patient in your average hospital - but that speaks to just one more instance of the folly of war - romanticized.

But oh - there was one magical moment. I was sitting there on one of the steel chairs waiting, when a lone decrepit veteran started to shuffle slowly by with a worn-out walker. The little wheels were broken, so every step he took made an extended scratching sound as it slid across the floor. At first the prolonged screech was abrasive but I decided to embrace it and it quickly became a kind of music. Everything this old man had been up to this point seemed to be getting projected through this walking instrument - like that old homeless trumpet player I would hear blow on Decatur Street in New Orleans. If his walker was fixed, he would have been invisible to be, but now he existed – big time.

Now get this, as I’m observing this man, I hear the echo of a saxophone bellow down the halls – I thought I was daydreaming or something. Well, it turns out the VA hires (or they volunteer) an old time jazz band to play in the lobby of the hospital. I swear I heard the music in that old man’s walker before that band started up, but I guess it could be the other way. Either way, the two sounds harmonized and it lifted my spirits and it was sweet and it was deep.

Before I left, I walked over to the landing and looked down on the lobby with the band playing and the veterans waiting – and waiting. It was not your typical jazz show, to be sure. The listeners – and players, were expressionless, reflective, and in some way peaceful.

So please take a stroll through your local VA hospital – and listen for the music.
http://www1.va.gov/directory/guide/home.asp