Chapter 1
Jamie Scott is a little nervous. She looks into the room at
the large number of assembled veterans. At the back of the room a few are even
standing. Only ten or fifteen years ago the room would have been filled with
men her father and grandfather’s age; old men veterans of the Vietnam War or
World War Two. Not so this crowd. The men and women filling this room are her
age, in their twenties and thirties. It’s unnerving to know every one of them, while
serving in far-away Iraq or Afghanistan, was injured in the line of duty. Jamie
feared not many of the young veterans would be pleased to hear her sing.
The young veterans probably would rather be at a concert featuring
a hot rock band, maybe in a club laughing at a comedy act, or sitting in front
of a favorite TV program. She’s pretty sure most would rather be in their rooms
playing the latest video game or surfing the net. Instead the well-meaning but
fairly clueless VA Director of entertainment at this facility caused them to be
herded together to listen to a classical music quintet featuring her as a soprano
operatic singer. Jamie worries her singing will dismay and disappoint most of
these wounded warriors. She’s got a great voice but pop, hip hop, and rock beats
are just not her thing.
Jamie tells herself, “ what the hell, go for it ”, bravely
puts on her best face, smiles at the captive audience, and begins singing a
Mozart sonata accompanied by her friends who are skilled classical musicians. Her
classically trained soprano voice rises and falls, filling the room with the centuries
old melody. Jamie looks out into the audience. As expected most of the veterans
are politely gazing at her but don’t seem too thrilled by her performance. Some
of the soldiers make no effort to show they are definitely bored out of their
minds and would like to be elsewhere. A concert featuring classical music
didn’t seem to at all agree with them, much less provide enjoyable
entertainment. However, as she scans the room she notices one pair of warm
brown eyes staring intently back at her. He actually seems to be enjoying her
voice and the quintets’ music. She blushes with the intensity of the gaze.
The eyes belong to a handsome brown eyed soldier sitting upright
in a wheelchair. With thick, wavy, long, dark brown hair flowing over his ears
and down the back of his neck he doesn’t look very military. He looks much more
like the serious musician he is than a soldier. Yet there he sits among the
wounded warriors. For a moment her voice pauses, then quickly resumes, as she
is held spell bound by his intense gaze. Jamie again blushes at such unexpected
adoring attention. She breaks off eye contact and tries to concentrate only on
her music.
Jamie’s not the only one to notice the soldier’s intense
gaze. She sees the soldier’s friends unmercifully teasing him. The soldier is
not amused. Annoyed, with a wave of his hand, he hushes them as the concert
comes to an end. The audience politely breaks into applause. Jamie notices the
group which includes the brown eyed soldier claps far more enthusiastically
then the rest of the room. His friends seemed to have received encouragement to
show appreciation for her performance.
As they put their instruments and music away the VA program
director, John Weber, approaches Jamie’s quintet. He thanks them for the
performance, tells them how much he enjoyed it, and asks if he may ask a favor
of them. He’s sure they can help with one of the patient’s treatments if only
they can find the time.
“One of our seriously wounded warriors, Sergeant Brad
Rogers, is a classically trained musician. His therapist thinks it would be
most helpful if we can get him playing violin again. The problem is at the
hospital there’re no musicians of his caliber for him to play with. It would be
wonderful if members of your quintet could spare a few hours a week and play
with him. We would be extremely grateful. I’m sure Sergeant
Jamie Scott is a little nervous. She looks into the room at
the large number of assembled veterans. At the back of the room a few are even
standing. Only ten or fifteen years ago the room would have been filled with
men her father and grandfather’s age; old men veterans of the Vietnam War or
World War Two. Not so this crowd. The men and women filling this room are her
age, in their twenties and thirties. It’s unnerving to know every one of them, while
serving in far-away Iraq or Afghanistan, was injured in the line of duty. Jamie
feared not many of the young veterans would be pleased to hear her sing.
The young veterans probably would rather be at a concert featuring
a hot rock band, maybe in a club laughing at a comedy act, or sitting in front
of a favorite TV program. She’s pretty sure most would rather be in their rooms
playing the latest video game or surfing the net. Instead the well-meaning but
fairly clueless VA Director of entertainment at this facility caused them to be
herded together to listen to a classical music quintet featuring her as a soprano
operatic singer. Jamie worries her singing will dismay and disappoint most of
these wounded warriors. She’s got a great voice but pop, hip hop, and rock beats
are just not her thing.
Jamie tells herself, “ what the hell, go for it ”, bravely
puts on her best face, smiles at the captive audience, and begins singing a
Mozart sonata accompanied by her friends who are skilled classical musicians. Her
classically trained soprano voice rises and falls, filling the room with the centuries
old melody. Jamie looks out into the audience. As expected most of the veterans
are politely gazing at her but don’t seem too thrilled by her performance. Some
of the soldiers make no effort to show they are definitely bored out of their
minds and would like to be elsewhere. A concert featuring classical music
didn’t seem to at all agree with them, much less provide enjoyable
entertainment. However, as she scans the room she notices one pair of warm
brown eyes staring intently back at her. He actually seems to be enjoying her
voice and the quintets’ music. She blushes with the intensity of the gaze.
The eyes belong to a handsome brown eyed soldier sitting upright
in a wheelchair. With thick, wavy, long, dark brown hair flowing over his ears
and down the back of his neck he doesn’t look very military. He looks much more
like the serious musician he is than a soldier. Yet there he sits among the
wounded warriors. For a moment her voice pauses, then quickly resumes, as she
is held spell bound by his intense gaze. Jamie again blushes at such unexpected
adoring attention. She breaks off eye contact and tries to concentrate only on
her music.
Jamie’s not the only one to notice the soldier’s intense
gaze. She sees the soldier’s friends unmercifully teasing him. The soldier is
not amused. Annoyed, with a wave of his hand, he hushes them as the concert
comes to an end. The audience politely breaks into applause. Jamie notices the
group which includes the brown eyed soldier claps far more enthusiastically
then the rest of the room. His friends seemed to have received encouragement to
show appreciation for her performance.
As they put their instruments and music away the VA program
director, John Weber, approaches Jamie’s quintet. He thanks them for the
performance, tells them how much he enjoyed it, and asks if he may ask a favor
of them. He’s sure they can help with one of the patient’s treatments if only
they can find the time.
“One of our seriously wounded warriors, Sergeant Brad
Rogers, is a classically trained musician. His therapist thinks it would be
most helpful if we can get him playing violin again. The problem is at the
hospital there’re no musicians of his caliber for him to play with. It would be
wonderful if members of your quintet could spare a few hours a week and play
with him. We would be extremely grateful. I’m sure Sergeant
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