Banjo players are magical.  They have this mystical box with strings that can temporarily suspend a person’s suffering and pain.  That is why the first activity I took my Mother to at her new home at Beverly Manor Nursing and Rehab was Banjo Dave. 

We arrived at the recreation room almost 10 minutes early and it was already crowded.  There was a full compliment of patients.  In attendance were those with canes, crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, and even three very docile individuals in small portable beds that resembled large flat wheelbarrows.  This allowed the needy residents to be transported and then replaced back in their comfortable reclining positions. 

At exactly 10:30 a.m., Banjo Dave introduced himself and began his show.  He began with old favorites that included “I’m Looking Over A Four Leaf Clover” and “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles.”  Before the music started, his audience had either blank stares or repressed looks of suffering that warned all that looked of impending tears.  But by the time Dave reached “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head”, many were keeping their own rhythm to the music with slight movements of their toes or fingers and in one case just the eyebrows.  Most blank stares had transformed to the soft presence of a gentle smile. 

In the hallway, all that passed the open door stopped.  Patients, visitors, nurses and doctors paused and looked in, some for only a moment.  Faces that were tired or worried or busy contemplating their next task all smiled broadly, swung their bodies in time to the music, and if you looked closely your were able to see them take a deep breath of relaxation before they moved on.  Some, even thou hurried, stayed to applaud the finished number. 

At this point Banjo Dave brought some levity into his show.  He asked, “All that remembered that song raise your right hand.  All that didn’t remember that song raise your left hand.  All those who don’t care, raise both hands.”  He waited a brief moment, grinned ever so slightly and then said, “I also give physical therapy.”  There was no response. 

Once again the banjo strummed and the room was back to their version of nirvana.  It was about this time that I noticed that many were mouthing the words to these delightful tunes.  Had their memories kicked in?  Probably.  But I’m a firm believer that thru some yet to be discovered form of communication, the banjo tells you the words.  Even if you never heard the song before or don’t speak English, each pick of the strings tells you what the song is saying. 

Nearing the end of his performance Banjo Dave played “Dream A Little Dream Of Me.”  The banjo told us the words:  “Say nighty night and kiss me – Just hold me tight and tell me you miss me – While in your dreams whatever they be – Dream A Little Dream Of Me.”  That message had pleasant memories for many in the room and you could see them drift to a time that used to be.  Next came “Wrap Your Troubles In Dreams”.  The banjo explained, “Just wrap hour troubles in dreams and dream your troubles away.  These two back to back dream songs were too suggestive for many of Dave’s fans.  They were now in peaceful sleep without the aid of a pill or a shot.  And possibly the most relaxed their injured and worn bodies had been in quite awhile.  Banjo Dave wrapped up his show with a rousing finale.  He strummed as fast as he could, did some fancy riffs, added a couple of ‘hey heys’,  and he was done.  Those in peaceful sleep stayed that way and those who were still awake rewarded him by applauding as best they could. 

Dave, who speaks wonders with his banjo, verbally is a man of few words.  I’m here once a month so I’ll see him next month.  Then he packed up and quietly left the room  He did thou not leave the room as he had found it.  HE had indeed performed his magic. 

I have just finished for the first time “Travels With Charley”, John Steinbeck’s account of traveling across the United States in a camper with his dog Charley to reconnect with his fellow Americans.  If he was to take this trip today he would surely include nursing homes because they have become a common destination of our life, like gas stations or dry cleaners.  It is where a part of our family resides.  So we visit them at their new home. 

John Steinbeck was a deservedly respected American hero.  He was awarded “The Pulitzer” for “Grapes Of Wrath”.  He was also presented with the 1962 “Nobel” prize in literature.  He had a compassionate understanding of the disinherited.  Nursing homes would have most certainly touched his heart.  I would like to think had he been with me this day he would have used his major influence to include in all medical staffs across America a Magical Banjo Player.

Click to Return to Dave's Home Page 

To return to the previous page, click the back arrow button above