You don’t always realize something is a blessing until you look back at it, miles down the road. I later found out Walt had died and I was sad that no one ever informed me. I guess life is like that sometimes.
The story begins……
It was midway during my sophomore year at Central Michigan University and I was doing what most college kids do on a Friday night, partying. This random party was similar to the one I was at the night before, a room full of people shoulder-to-shoulder shouting over loud music. The beer was flowing and there was most likely a keg somewhere in the room. I can’t remember what I was drinking but I do remember the thunderous banging on the other side of the front door.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-
“Don’t open it, it’s the cops!” someone yelled, and the resident of the apartment insisted that a police officer couldn’t enter your home unless they have a warrant. I thought to myself, not another one of those guys.
The men in blue weren’t going anywhere and I was in a room full of college kids feeling like Jodie Foster in the movie “Panic Room”, except I didn’t have boobs.
After the hold out ended, the cops entered and gave everyone a ticket for “attending a nuisance party.” I had to pay over $250 and serve 24 hours of community service, which I tried appealing , I figured since OJ got away with murder, maybe they’ll give me a break. That did not happen. Maybe I needed a black leather glove that didn’t fit my hand!
During the spring semester at school, I logged a few hours walking dogs at the local animal shelter in MT. Pleasant. Once summer break came along, I moved back home and served the rest of my community service at a local nursing home. That’s where I met Walt.
I wish I could say I remember Walt like it was yesterday, but the time I spent with him flew by and it was several years ago. We would spend time together sitting in his room chatting about an array of topics. He was slipping as the elder tend to do, and we were having trouble making a connection. That disconnect vanished as soon as I told him about my love for music. Walt then reached into his dresser and pulled out a harmonica, playing it as easily as breathing.
I was blown away by how good he was. His mind was slipping but when he played his harmonica he was as sharp as a tack. I sat there in awe as he played many songs flawlessly. I told him that I also play the harmonica and wished I had mine with me, even though I wasn’t nearly as good as him. You bet your ass the next time I visited Walt, I had my harmonica in my front pocket.
We often played 12 bar blues because that was all I knew and Walt gave me tips as he was enthralled with our new connection. Our conversations felt blurry when we talked about life and how Walt once served in the Navy but when we talked about the harmonica and played together, everything was in harmony!
During the end of summer, as the fall semester of college approached, I met with Walt for the last time. In addition to playing a regular harmonica, Walt also played a piano harmonica, which is a portable wind instrument that’s played like a keyboard, and he played it like a pro!
Before I left, Walt gave me a Regal, Mississippi Harmonica CO. harmonica, which I still have. You know, at the end of the road I’m thankful I got that attending a nuisance party ticket and had to serve 24 hours of community service. It really was a blessing in disguise because without it, I never would have met Walt and had the opportunity to shed harmony out of his remaining time. He gave me more than just a harmonica; he gave me a life story to go with it.
Have you ever had something bad happen to you that ended up being a blessing in disguise?
LifeOfRev 