s the lunch
guests at the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen file into the large dining area
with their trays, the sound of live piano music fills the air. "That’s
real mellow," says one guest. "It sets a nice mood," comments another.
"It’s festive," adds a third.
Duane
Holmes sits at the grand piano engrossed in his music. His playing has a
nice easy feel to it. His interpretation of American standards puts a
little – but not too much – swing into even the saddest melody.
Everything he plays is infused with a slight jazz intelligence. It’s
extremely engaging, and the guests are enjoying it immensely.
Listening to Holmes’ effortless style in which everything seems so
free and easy, you’d never know that his life has been anything but. In
fact, he, too, was once homeless and a guest at this and many other soup
kitchens. Fortunately, he was able to move on to better days as a piano,
organ and keyboard specialist, and as a highly skilled computer
professional.
Holmes’ story, though unique, is unfortunately, quite representative
of what befalls all too many people in this land of decidedly unequal
opportunity. Some children are subjected to things no one at any age
should have to go through, while others are handed all the good things
of life on a silver platter.
Duane
Holmes was born and "braised," as he calls it, in Harlem at the height
of the heroin epidemic that followed the Vietnam War.
A self-described "brainiac," he excelled in school without having to
work at it. The curriculum offered no challenge, so there was a lot of
"mind time" for other things. Since there were so few public programs in
his neighborhood to channel a child’s energy in a positive direction, by
the age of eleven Holmes was already doing things like stealing cars. "I
did it because it was fun, not because I was a thief," he said. "It was
the only thing to do."
Holmes and his siblings were raised by his maternal grandmother
because his mother had been deemed a manic-depressive schizophrenic and
was in and out of institutions. "I started reading psychology books
really early because I wanted to find a cure for my mother," he stated.
"That was my goal. She was my only real friend on the planet. I used to
visit her at Manhattan State Hospital."
With drugs
such a large part of his environment and so little to direct him
elsewhere, Holmes started smoking marijuana when he was about eleven.
Part of it was curiosity: "If you say, ‘Don’t do it’, I’m going to check
it out to see why not," he explained. "And it felt good. Nothing else
was feeling good. As to my mother, I talked with the doctors every time
she was institutionalized, but there was nothing anyone could do."
At the same time, a love for the piano entered Holmes’ life. His
grandmother got one of his aunts a piano, but she never touched it. "It
was beautiful, and I went there and started tinkling," he recalled.
"While everyone else was running around with girls, I was on my piano or
reading books. We couldn’t afford lessons, so I’m self-taught."
Even though Holmes was a gifted student, he never had the opportunity
to attend a really good school, and he ended up dropping out of high
school to join the Air Force.
"I was so naïve I didn’t know about racism until I got into the Air
Force," he said. "I knew it existed, of course, but I never felt it
until I went into the service. Institutionally it was just there."
While in the service, both the drugs and the piano playing continued.
Almost everywhere he went, Holmes found a piano. He played and people
listened.
After two and a half years, Duane Holmes received an honorable
discharge and returned home.
He
quickly landed a well-paying job at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and
outwardly his life was going fine. However, he began smoking crack.
"Every drug I picked up and decided I wanted to stop I was able to put
down - except crack," observed Holmes.
He became irresponsible and was fired from his job. Soon he lost his
apartment as well. Then his mother passed away, and his life really
unraveled.
Holmes’ grandmother hated drugs and wouldn’t take him back in. Thus
began the four-year period during which he slept on park benches, in
Grand Central Station and spent at least one night in just about every
shelter in the City.
Holmes never considered himself helpless, however. "I never asked for
a dime on the street, and I never ate out of garbage cans," he declared.
He became active in the Union of the Homeless and eventually worked with
the squatters on Manhattan’s Lower East Side.
While residing at the Borden Avenue Veterans Residence, he was hired
first as a housekeeper and then as a counselor. He was fortunate enough
to have a really good mentor, Joan Hauprich. In 1991, she was
instrumental in his getting his own apartment once more. She also did
everything she could to assist him in kicking drugs.
Stated Holmes, "I went into practically every treatment program there
was, but basically, I was doing it for ‘you,’ instead of me, so it never
worked out."
But then that changed. "I just decided that it was time to do
something different," he explained. "And it was a very, very difficult
task, because drugs were such a major part of my existence. And being
that I had trained myself in psychology, every treatment place I went
into, there was very little I couldn’t accomplish to make the counselors
think I was OK. I walked in there, and I knew all of the language.
Eventually I’d talk myself right back onto the street. That’s an
unfortunate fact. They say the hardest people to get clean are the
intellectuals. It’s really true."
But get clean he did. Duane Holmes has been drug-free for about five
years now.
Perhaps his greatest highpoint during this period has been playing
the piano for Muhammad Ali. The organization 100 Black Men had a big
dinner to honor Ali. They hired a quartet with Duane on the piano
to play specifically for Ali while he waited in a side room before
entering the banquet hall.
Currently, Holmes has an open venue at Wellfleet, Cape Cod in
Massachusetts. He plays there during the summers to an audience that
loves him. He’s preparing for it now.
Holmes is also proud that he has no criminal history. All of his
arrests have been for social activism. He’s been arrested four or five
times doing such things as committing civil disobedience with Martin
Sheen against nuclear research.
As to his playing at Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen and other such
venues, Holmes stated, "I have played for at least one million people
for free." He started after he got his own apartment thirteen years ago.
He was so happy he wanted to pass something on to others. He has
continued to do so ever since.
Holmes resides in Harlem with his life partner, Eva, who, as he said,
"has been in my corner forever." He very recently started a music
production company, InHour Time Productions. Its first product will be a
CD of his own piano playing with some keyboard work. We certainly wish
him all the success in the world, for he has truly paid his dues.
Duane Holmes can be contacted at (212) 987-3417 enaudsemlo@yahoo.com.
