A Song Of Blues For The Jazz Piano Man New Orleans Piano Player Longs To Return To Days Of Old By Mark Mitchell Editor’s note: The following is the second in a three-part series which will tell the stories of three New Orleans’ families displaced to the High Country following Hurricane Katrina. With Thanksgiving approaching, these stories will also delve into what they are still thankful for, despite their hardships of the past 10 weeks. While it’s been a while since Jack Lynch played music at the Saint Louis Hotel, the fingers still work quite nicely as he entertains visitors at the Broyhill Inn and Conference Center. New Orleans jazz piano player Jack Lynch plays Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans at the Broyhill Inn and Conference Center recently. Photos by Mark Mitchell His life was just as he wanted. His days were filled with fishing and gardening, and when night fell, he donned a suit, drove to the French Quarter and played his piano. It wasn’t an extravagant life, but perfect for him, nonetheless. Like his well-maintained garden, arriving at this point in his life wasn’t a result of chance, but rather, a result of choices and cultivation. He moved from Boston, Mass. to the New Orleans’ area 15 years ago to specifically live in the state known as the Sportsman’s Paradise. He knew the fishing would be great, and hoped for the opportunity to satisfy his second passion … piano playing. The plan worked perfectly and he was living the life of his dreams. This was before Hurricane Katrina. This was before a 28-foot storm surge roared down the street where he lived and left only muddy memories of his life. This was before everything changed for Jack Lynch and the life he knew. “There are no normal days in New Orleans,” Lynch said when asked what a normal day used to be, “that’s part of the charm of the city. I really enjoyed my life. I had two boats I used to fish, a beautiful garden I had cultivated for 15 years, and at night, I played at the Saint Louis Hotel in the French Quarter. I lived about seven miles from the hotel in Chalmette, LA and played for four or five hours a night, five days a week.” That was pre-Katrina. Post-Katrina finds Lynch in the High Country, living in a donated cottage, still fishing, but desperate to again sit behind a piano. His days now include correspondence with insurance companies and FEMA, living off of unemployment and food stamps, and the one thing that still satisfies the soul … fishing. “Fishing has saved my sanity,” a smiling Lynch said. “It’s the one passion I can still fulfill. It’s a weird time right now because you lose your sense of time. You forget the date and day because there is no schedule you have to keep. I almost can’t explain my life now.” Lynch’s life, like more than a million others who resided in the Gulf Coast portion of the country, was altered forever on Aug. 29, 2005 when Katrina made landfall. Like so many others, the piano player watched the progress of the storm, packed an overnight bag, and found a safe place to ride out the storm. And like so many others, he had no idea at the time that life as he knew it was over. “I left my house, picked up my 70-year-old neighbor, Buddy Sciambra, and we headed to a cabin in Arkansas to watch Katrina and do some fishing,” Lynch said. “When we saw the levees break, we knew we may not be going home any time soon. A friend called and told us he had a condo we could stay in Banner Elk, so we drove all night and arrived just in time to hear that the area we lived in had been devastated.” A few weeks later, Lynch made a return trip to his home, only to find what he had feared … destruction. “I got my tetanus shot, like everyone was required to do, and re-entered the city,” said Lynch. “National guardsmen and bulldozers were everywhere. I heard of the 28-foot storm surge and could see where the streets had been scraped. The thing I noticed most, however, was that there was not one bird singing. Our area is always filled with birds. I’ll never forget the silence. “Once I got to my home, I couldn’t get into my house because the lock on my door was filled with mud. I walked around to the back of my house and saw one of my boats nose down in the mud. My garden was destroyed except for one rose bush, which was somehow blooming. I broke a window to enter and could immediately see that everything was destroyed. You could tell that water had risen to the roof before subsiding, and you couldn’t move around because there was four feet of mud on the floors. I grabbed some dirty clothing and my toolbox. I guess I was just trying to hold on to bits and pieces of my life.” After leaving his house, the avid fisherman drove around a few streets of New Orleans to see what remained of the city. The one image most firmly entrenched in his mind was that of a man who had returned with a U-Haul hooked up to the back of his truck. “It was obvious he had come back to load up belongings,” Lynch said. “But he was just standing there, with tears running down his face, because there was nothing he could salvage.” Around the time Lynch returned to the High Country, he received a call that the local Red Cross chapter had found a donated condo where he could live, between Blowing Rock and Boone. With a schedule that now features more time and flexibility, Lynch said he splits time between fishing, dealing with what he calls the beaucracy of FEMA and trying to organize a concert that would land him behind the seat of a piano once again. “I’m trying to get together a bunch of New Orleans’ musicians who are displaced and hold a concert at the Biltmore Estate in Asheville,” Lynch said. “All of the proceeds would go to an organization called Music Cares. The organization has helped a lot of musicians through donations. I know I called Music Cares one day, and two days later, they sent me a check for $2,000. It :’s wild that you deal with the nightmare known as FEMA for weeks with little help, and one contact to Music Cares gets financial results.” While he plans to return to New Orleans at some point in the future, Lynch said he would do so with changes in mind. “For one thing,” Lynch said as he laughs, “I know to rent instead of own. I’m sure all of us down there will also carefully watch the Weather Channel.” As for the present, the piano man maintains that with Thanksgiving nearing, he has taken time to reflect on what he still has to be thankful for. “Mainly, I’m thankful for life,” Lynch remarked. “I’m glad to have just gotten out alive. I lost a lot of stuff, but that’s just it, it’s stuff. I also found out that I have some very good friends in the world. I’m grateful because I feel like I landed on my feet quite well. There are a lot of people who are a lot worse off than me and God help them. “I’ve also met some wonderful people up here in the mountains. The leaves are beautiful and so are the people. Yes, there’s a lot I have to be thankful for.”