The sky was blue and icy cold. The wind blew and the big pine trees swayed in the fractured sunlight. A plane flew over, a small spec high above us. While the coronet played taps the little crowd faced forward except me- I looked up into the sky and let the tears spread across my face. Are you up there Mr.Dan? Are you happy up there in that place we call Heaven somewhere so distant from our world?

My black heeled shoes sunk in the grass a bit. The man with the gentle face and flyer sun glasses was speaking as he fingered the bullet shells. "This represents Service to One's Country" he said as he stuffed the empty cartridge down into the flag. "This represents Honor to One's Country" he said and pressed another metal shell into the folds of the cloth. "This represents Duty to One's Country"... The flag that Dan gunned for in planes from England to Germany, and the flag that caused Dad to jump out of a burning plane into the hands of the Nazi Germans, the flag that Dan spent many, many months in concentration camp for... now this flag was shaped into a triangle, and  gently with respect, handed to a frail, heart broken, elderly woman.

The man in uniform and grey hair looked into the widow's face and spoke with quiet authority. I couldn't hear the words but his face and his entire bearing brought great solidity and comfort. A veteran honoring the man who gave all precious to him to fight against Hitler and all he stood for, against the Japanese ally that bombed Pearl Harbor, against the ideas that still threaten our nation today, he spoke with deep respect and sincerity... The small crowd in black dispersed away from the cometary and the veterans gathered their rifles and flags and also quietly dispersed.

Yesterday it was a great privilege to play my cello for the small funeral service of Dan Piedmont. Although I personally had no relationship with Dan he was a precious grandfather figure to my oldest sister and a good friend to my parents. Dan was a hero in a plane, in church, and in family. As I played my songs and felt the people around me I was reminded of the solemn and seldom embraced role of the artist to hold the grief of others, to provide arms of comfort and breath in difficult times. The hope to somehow provide an anchor and presence which could hold someone through their sorrow in a place where perhaps faith and words of intellect could not penetrate. The intention to express where voices crack and words go away.

I felt humbled to be there playing my cello and thought more about how needed this gift is when the funeral director pointed out that in thirty years he had not seen a service in his funeral home blessed so much with music, that often people do not have the gift of music at this time in their life.

I wondered about cultures like the Senegalese Griot where the musicians hold the expected duty to be present like priests in the community services of marriage and death... Our value may be often forgotten, but as pointed out so perfectly in a commencement speech flying around youtube awhile ago, parents- you may wish your son or daughter chose the medical field or something that guaranteed them being paid regularly more than minimum wage,  but when they are present on nine-eleven, when they are the ones guiding the nation in time of deepest tragedy, you will remember that the artist also has a valuable place in society.  When tragedy strikes you will be proud of your son or daughter who chooses to be a musician.

Uncle Dan you and your fellow veterans are an incredible inspiration to us here in the United States today. We honor and thank you for your sacrifice and I thank you for the love you have given my family.

 


 

Over the week end I drove my little stick shift east on the thruway and headed Northeast into Adirondack park.

I left Thursday morning after an oil change arriving in Speculator around noon where I stopped at my favorite  Adirondack grocery/hardware/book store and bought some good apple cider then headed on to Warrensburg where I was to stay.

Thursday night I performed solo in the small entrance space to Aimee's Dinner and a Movie in Glens Falls where they presented a gallery of Haitian artwork. The acoustics in the gallery were fantastic for cello and it was a lot of fun to play there. Bach, Improv, Sound of Music, anything I could think of...

I was playing in a storefront window and it was funny to see people walk down the street and stop and look in. Some very nice ladies from the rotary club happened to be eating dinner in the restaurant next door. From their upper story window view they looked down and watched me play and were intrigued to come and listen. Underneath me a man was working late in his shop and could hear the music above so he also came to investigate and we ended up having a very interesting chat about the music scene in Brooklyn in the 60's-80's. 

After the event my brother was chatting with the bar tender next door who mentioned that she had no music that night. Tim got her to hire me for an hour and Bach in the Bar paid for my gas...

Friday I hiked up Hackensack mountain  which rose up just behind where I was staying. A small little mountain with lots of open boulder space and a flag flying, it was a nice way to greet the day and the warm sunshine.  Hitting the trail even for a short time was exhilarating and got the blood moving! 

On Saturday I woke up thinking I should hit the trail again. I drove north up route 87 for the trail towards Giant mountain from the Northeast. I was prepared with MSR isopro and stove and oatmeal but had forgotten to put matches in my kit ! (had to remove them when I flew on the plane earlier this Fall...) so a granola bar had to suffice and I set out for some good views of the Southern peaks. It was clear, sunny, and cold! How pretty the sun hit the yellow leaved trees... a beautiful morning that God had made. It felt a little lonely to be hiking alone and I walked slowly trying to take in the air and just enjoy being in the woods. The views from Blueberry cobble and Rocky Ridge were amazing and I was inspired to see Gothics and Pyramid. What a great place to be on a Saturday morning! I didn't go too much further, sat and did some writing, praying, then headed back down, planning to come back next summer to do the entire trail to Giant. 

That night at the Haitian Benefit Dinner I performed with pianist/singer/guitarist/composer Ray Agnew and singer Gisella Montanez-Case. The three of us hit it off immediately and had a great time playing together. It was great to improvise with such generous musicians with rich musical depth. It was a lot of fun followed up by Haitian lime fish, herb potatoes and ginger sugared plantains. Delicious.

Driving back across the park on Sunday I enjoyed the rocky river views and stopped to gaze at the last beautiful lake before leaving the park and getting back on route 90. I was planning my workshop for the sixth graders and thinking about the people I'd met. With several offers for places to stay on future hiking trips, and requests to come and play some more music, I wondered about returning in the near future. I also wondered if that red service light would prove any more ominous on the way home!

Made it home safely and have yet to service the honda, but am following up on some North Country plans for the Spring...

    

Just saw a little advert about North Sky and checked out their website. northskycelloensemble.com. The nightingale song is so beautiful. So awesome to see original and cross-genre cello ensembles popping up. The cello has to be the most currently versatile performance instrument out there.