Creole

The other day I was playing in Suburban Station, and as I was packing up, a smiling young man approached me in an electric wheelchair, put on the brakes and extended his hand.  "Creole" was all he said.  "David," I said.  He commented on the last song I did, "Autumn Leaves," and that he liked my arrangement.  He talked quickly, like he had little time, but managed to tell me that he was 100 percent Seminole Indian, originally from Tampa, but he had settled in New Orleans and had lived there up until Katrina had hit and devastated the city.  He was proud of his heritage.  He showed me photos of his gorgeous mother in native dress, his sister holding an alligator she had raised in Florida, and his daughter.  His voice sounded sad when he said the word "daughter."  I didn't pry.  He continued and talked about how cool the music was in New Orleans, how is stepmother was Irish, and how is music reflected all of that mix...Irish, Cajun, French, Native American....and how New Orleans was the perfect city for that type of music.  He said he was getting a mixed response on the streets here in Philly with that sound.  He said some people didn't know what to make of it.  A drum was strapped to the back of the wheelchair.  He said he also played clarinet and keyboard.  He was about to go up onto Broad Street and play in front of two Italian restaurants, where he said they wanted him to play and they would feed him at the end of his gig.  He began to talk about Katrina again and how he had diabetes and had a hard time getting insulin during the storm.  He talked about all the people he saw die because they couldn't get dialysis treatments or insulin.  He said he also suffered from muscular dystrophy and was losing his eyesight.  But he was lucky, he said, because he made it through.
Lucky.
Here is a young man, in an electric wheelchair, suffering from muscular dystrophy and diabetes, losing his eyesight, probably no older than thirty-five, and he's telling me he's lucky.
And now he was going to go sing for his supper.
I'm the lucky one.
To have had the pleasure and honor of meeting him.
Creole.