On August 14th this year, 2012, I met a woman who's last name I'll never know, who had hair as silver as snow, and who I'll never forget.
Jan.
So I was playing at the Chicago Red Line El stop. I'd been there for about an hour, when I look to the right and see this woman who must be 70 years old with long, straight, silver white hair in a wheel chair smiling and coming up to me. Now, up to this point, the only person in a wheelchair I ever really see down there, is a sweet, toothless black man that sings along with what ever I'm singing, clapping all along. Which is great, but after 45 minutes, I'd just like to get back to just hearing my guitar instead of claps and shouting. So there's a bittersweet feeling running through my head about this woman.
She wheels up and is just thanking me profusely, "Thank you so much for playing, you're such an inspiration!"
Now I hear this all the time, and for the most part, I'm too damn jaded by it to really listen and I just wait for them to drop their dollar and walk away. But Jan doesn't. She gets real close and says, "But really, Thank you." It was probably the most earnest "thank you" I've ever gotten.
She starts talking to me. I mean really talking to me. Telling me all her problems, and all her joys. She'd have told me her whole life story if we didn't have an 8 minute deadline before the next train arrived.
She told me she was a Quaker, and that she was sending the blessings of the Quakers my way. She said, "The main ingredients are TLC. Tender Love and Care." And, although I have no idea what a Quaker is, I've heard of them, and it seems like people talk about them with smiles on their faces, so, I accepted graciously, these, Quaker blessings.
Jan reached up and shook my hand and I'll be damned if an electric shock didn't shoot right through me. It was the best handshake I'd ever had in my entire life. It reminded me of my Grandma Stanger. Grandma was a firecracker. Full of vitality, life, and love. everyone in my family used to laugh so hard about whoever had to sit by Grandma during the BYU football games back in Utah. Because when BYU was down, and it was 3rd down, and the ball left the quarterbacks hand, she'd be shouting and screaming,"GET IT! GET IT!" or "GET HIM! GET HIM!" all the while, latching onto the leg of the person next to her with a death grip that would leave bruises for weeks. It was that kind of handshake. She held onto my hand for what must have been 5 minutes. But it didn't bother me for some reason. It was like she was grounding me there, with that handshake. I felt solid as a rock.
She told me this story about how years back she got her hand caught in this accordion garage door. It shattered her hand. And while she was recovering from it, she went to this music store. She asked them if they would give her a bow, just to see if she could hold it up. Well, they brought out a cello and put in front of her and barely holding onto the bow, she began to play. Jan fell in love in an instant. While her hand was broken, she said she learned how to play "Dona Nobis Pachem" or "Peace Be With you".
So about this time- I'm officially blown away by this incredible woman and it's me who is being inspired instead of the other way around. Just then, the train begins to arrive. So she says, "Bless you Brother." turns around, and zips down the platform. As she is rolling away, I see this sign on the back of her wheel chair. "WAR IS NOT THE ANSWER!" About 15 seconds later, without thinking, I am running down the train platform with a foot tambourine on one foot after her. CHUNK step CHUNK step CHUNK step. Everyone is looking around like there is some sort of weird flash mob going on. I catch her as the doors were closing, ask her the name of the song she learned one more time, thanked her, and watched as the doors closed and she rode away.
I walked back to my guitar case with the same CHUNK step, heard a saxophone player setting up on the other end of the platform, and decided it was a sign. I needed to go home and write a song, so I could tell this story. Jan's Story. This is a photo of the original journal entry where I etched out her song.
Here it is. I hope you enjoy it.
Jan, The Quaker
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