“Spirit Jam”

c. 2007 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(9-07)

Readers of this column have become very familiar with the developing story of ‘Tim’s House’ since last fall. It has been a privilege to witness the birth of this idea, and document the stamina and conviction of founder Carol Brazis. As a safe haven born after the tragic suicide of her son, the organization was designed to help others who have survived such desperate circumstances. That plan will come to fruition when the ‘House’ opens on September 29th.
Many who knew Tim Weed in the local community have been touched by the appropriate design of this group. Because he was a companion and healer by nature, the healing home seemed a perfect way to continue his mission.
Yet for myself, the spiritual nature of ‘Tim’s House’ has proved to be most incredible of all. From the beyond, Tim has continued to heal hearts and touch lives here on Earth.
Such thoughts resonated during a recent ‘jam session’ on Court Street in Chardon, with Robin Echols Cooper.
In my own life, she was always simply ‘Bruce’s Mom.’ We connected at local retail stores in the area. Yet when I heard of her achievements, a shift in perceptions occurred:

“Robin Echols Cooper was born in Cleveland, Ohio and educated in the Chardon public schools. She received her Bachelor of Arts Degree in communications, with minors in art and theatre, from Ohio State University in Columbus, Ohio in 1980, and has been telling stories professionally since 1992. Robin's unique style takes you on an animated journey as she weaves tales from around the world, and her family stories bring you home. She performs in a variety of venues including schools, child-care centers, libraries, museums, senior citizen's centers, and hospitals, and she presents creative specialized workshops in the art of storytelling. Whether at home in Ohio, or traveling throughout the country, Robin is an ‘all ages’ favorite.” (From the Morley Library, Painesville)

I wanted to brainstorm with her for several years about creative projects. She displayed proficiency as a playwright, performer, musician, author, and poet. Her resume intrigued me greatly. I frequently spoke to her son about my own experiences in New York, and promised to find a moment to share our visions. Meanwhile, I continued to read of her endeavors:

“Robin Echols Cooper, joined the (Women in History) organization in 2000. She presents Fannie Lou Hammer, civil rights activist, Mary Fields, stagecoach driver in Montana and will soon recreate Congresswoman Barbara Jordan. Robin is a storyteller, performing and visual artist. Robin grew up on a small farm in Chardon, Ohio where she enjoyed listening to songs and wonderful stories. She has been writing and sharing stories all of her life. Robin received her Bachelor of Arts degree in Communications with minors in art and theater from Ohio State University in Columbus, Ohio. She has been telling stories professionally since 1992. Ms. Echols Cooper’s unique style takes you on an animated journey as she weaves tales from around the world. Her family stories bring you home. She has performed in a wide variety of venues. She presents creative specialized workshops in the art of story telling. Her affiliations include Young Audiences of Greater Cleveland, Inc., The National Association of Black Storytellers, The Cleveland Association of Black Storytellers, Inc., and Western Reserve Association for the Preservation and Perpetuation of Storytelling, Puppetry Guild of Northern Ohio.” (From W. I. H.)

In addition, Robin offered the collective a personal moment that demonstrated her potent ability to portray characters with realism:

“I was performing at Urbana College as Stagecoach Mary. When the narrator completed my introduction, I entered the room carrying a rifle and shouted, ‘Where is Junior? I’m looking for that scrawny polecat that owes me money. I gave a menacing look at a male student who looked like he could be a line backer on the football team and snarled ‘ . . .and you look just like him.’ I will never forget the look on his face. For a moment I thought he might jump up and run from the room. I suppose I have to remember to tone down my acting in the future.”

Career demands kept me from reviewing her plays when they were offered locally. Our opportunity to commiserate never arrived. But then, Tim’s spirit reached out with purpose.
I met Robin at the Court Street oasis, and we enjoyed an impromptu session of music. With Carole’s blessing, the episode inspired another installment of Thoughts At Large. I reckoned that it was a happy coincidence that served my journalistic needs.
Yet in the weeks to come, I found that there was more to the experience we had shared. A spark from eternity quickened our hearts. We met again at Tim’s House… and again! Each jam was more productive than the one before. My affinity for guitar experimentation returned.
We began to write songs from the jam session activity, with help from Carole and my wife, Liz. Improvised chants became useful ideas. Then, our kindred spirits became white-hot with inspiration.
Suddenly, the random notions yielded an unexpected product – meaning.
Robin called it ‘Healing through music.’ A gentle process of self-expression and renewal. “I think it would be wonderful if Tim's House could offer ‘Heart Songs’ or songs of healing,” she said. “People could write songs or poetry set to music. They could pick the style of music that could go along with the work they create. The song could be recorded on CD and given to them. There could be musicians who could help with adding flavor to the piece.”
Diverse elements seemed to connect as we played. Undeniably, a pattern emerged from the intellectual fog. I struggled to comprehend what was happening. But my helpmate used her faith to witness, and accept the reality.
After an evening session, we carried equipment to the parking lot. My wife was brimming with thought as we loaded her car.
“All this is evidence of God in our lives,” Liz observed. “We were meant to be here. Carole, Dan, Robin, and everyone, with the two of us. This is a gift.”
I couldn’t disagree.
She patted my chest. “There’s something in here that keeps you going. You might put it aside for awhile, or forget its presence in your life. But that spirit is your identity. When we get together, those energies boost each other. It makes light in the darkness. We see that light as a dream. But really, it is a manifestation of… of who we are on the inside. For that moment of togetherness, we are plugged in. To the cosmos, and God, and… Tim.”
My jaw dropped open.
“Woww,” I exclaimed. “That is very deep.”
“Yes,” she replied, after a deep breath. “But also very real.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s like Tim has brought us… together?”
“Stop thinking so hard, Rodney!” she admonished. “Believe in miracles. Look toward the horizon. Be thankful for what you have!”
I nodded. Having the chance to finally work with Robin was a blessing.
“You’re the one with enduring faith,” I said. “My heart depends on yours, sweetie…”
She laughed at the comment.
“I depend on you, too,” she said. “You’re the one with a dream. I want that hope to be fulfilled. It can happen. I know it! If only we believe.”
I looked upward, toward the moonlit sky.
“Show us the way,” I said silently. “We are ready… to sing!”