As empty and quiet as August

7/5

On this extended July 4th weekend, the city is as empty and quiet as August.

Deacon James comes in deeply troubled. The management at Capital Hall put all his things in storage so that his apartment could be fumigated but now everyone’s gone for the extended holiday weekend and his things have still not been returned. Clothes, pots and pans, utensils....everything gone. I tell him that there surely must  be some emergency contact available, even for the holiday, so he’s heading back to see if there’s anyone at all who can help.

A young woman comes in with her two children and brother. Says she used to come here as a child in the seventies ,remembers all the programs she took part in. I take them in, show them around. She lives in Berkley now. She recognizes the pictures of Pastors Bob Davidson, Laura Jervis and Jan Orr Harter on the back wall of the sanctuary. 

Helena comes in. Yet another person shocked to come back and find Teddy gone. She’s an actor with her own project she’d like to pursue. I tell her she’s welcome to come in, play the piano and sing anytime she sees the door open.

Several people come in asking about tonight’s open mic. Marc has gotten it listed on several places. We were thinking of taking the night off, but looks like they’ll be musicians coming. One or two have come looking for flamenco classes but I tell them the Noche folks are gone for six weeks. 

Rob comes in with bottles of water, wants to know if we’re interested. We say no, but we hear him for the next hour hawking water on the steamy sidewalk outside. 

 Chris come in to talk to Danielle about plans. I've go to run to get across town.

Later, I come back after a wonderful Latino wedding. The food, the music, the sense of celebration is always so great at these its hard to leave. The open  mic is still going on. Some new people showed up. I agree to play a couple of songs before the night ends. I take off my jacket and tie, roll up my sleeves, ready to begin.