Finding Purpose in Darkness

Jones had never been drawn to the harmonica growing up. His father, who had a love for the instrument, and his two brothers, all found solace in its simple tunes. When Jones’ father passed away about 20 years ago, his mother opened the old chest, a Pandora's Box of forgotten moments, and handed him the harmonica. 

"It was his," Jones’ mother said to him softly. 

Jones didn't know what to do with it. He wasn't a musician. He wasn't his father. He tucked it away, a tangible reminder of a life that was no longer. But the harmonica called to him, a persistent tug in the back of his mind.  One day, years later, he took it out, its cold metal a strange comfort in his hand. He fumbled with it, blowing hesitant puffs of air, producing more wheezes than music.

That was the beginning. 

He started "messing around" as he called it, studying online tutorials, ordering books, and slowly, painstakingly, coaxing melodies from the instrument. He became a collector, accumulating a small arsenal of harmonicas, each with its own distinct voice. He was teaching himself, note by note, breath by breath.

Then came the diagnosis. In 2003, the shadow of Agent Orange fell upon him, a hard reminder of his service in the Vietnam War from 1965 to 1969. His eyesight began to fail – first in his right eye then the left. The world, once sharp and defined, became blurry and distorted.

The darkness threatened to consume him, he said, as frustration and despair gnawed at his heels. "For a person that's visually impaired or blind, one thing that we have the most problem with is finding something to do," he said.

Despite this, a glimmer of light and hope remained tucked away for the Vietnam War Veteran – the harmonica was still there.

Jones found the Blind Veterans Association, where he started sharing stories and experiences and discovered a camaraderie that eased the burden of his vision loss. The association had begun incorporating arts and crafts into its programs, recognizing the power of creativity in healing.

That's when Jones saw his purpose. He started teaching harmonica lessons at VA’s Blind Rehabilitation Center in Birmingham, Alabama, sharing his newfound passion with others who were also grappling with visual impairments and loss. He found joy in guiding their fingers, listening to their tender notes evolve into recognizable tunes. He is giving them something to hold onto, a way to express themselves when words fail. 

VA's National Veterans Creative Arts Festival caught his attention. It is a nationwide competition, showcasing the artistic talents of Veterans enrolled in VA health care. Paintings, sculptures, writing, dance, and music - a vibrant tapestry of creativity woven by those who had served.

"I heard about this art festival, and I said, ‘well I'd like to try,’” Jones said with a smile, his eyes twinkling. He poured his heart into his performance, stringing together a medley of songs, each a different shade of emotion. He played in memory of his father, whose melodies still resonated within him. He played for his brothers, with whom he now shares a bond forged in music. He played for his brothers and sisters in arms who understood the silent language of struggle and resilience.

Most of all, he played for himself, a blind Veteran who had found light and purpose in the simple breath of a harmonica. Jones wasn't just playing a song, but he was telling a story about loss and rediscovery, of darkness and light. 

Jones is excited to compete again this year in the art festival, and he is already working on his musical ensemble. He is setting high standards for himself and aims to win big. 

To learn more about VA’s National Veterans Creative Arts Festival, visit here or contact VA Tennessee Valley Healthcare System.

To find a VA Blind Rehabilitation Center near you visit, https://www.prosthetics.va.gov/blindrehab/locations.asp