‘Jimmy Dunne Says’

Late at night, January 8.

My wife Catherine and I love the condominium building we live in. It’s right near town; we’re with 16 other “keys.”

A gentleman who lives a few doors down passed away a week ago.

He was just an absolutely great guy, Rick Angres. He wife Kate couldn’t possibly be any dearer.

They were married for 27 years, and they’ve been in our building for 13 years.

Rick was on the board in our building and just a wonderful friend to many who lived here over the years.

Rick stopped by our place many times to bring by his signature “Persian mulberry” exotic fruits he’d get at Sunday’s farmers market. And he always let me how much he enjoyed walking by and hearing my piano music in the early morning.

Things like that.

A few days ago, I tucked a note under the 16 doors in our building with an idea. I invited them to meet by our fountain in the courtyard at 6:30 that night. I wrote that we’d knock on Kate’s door and give her our good thoughts.

Dumb me, when I scheduled it, I forgot it was a huge football night. Everybody had a million things to do. I get it.

There was every reason in the world for people not to come that night.

I was freezing in the courtyard with my wife a few minutes before 6:30—along with Tina Canales, a spectacular mom in the building who was in on the idea.

I brought a box of small “batteried” candles ($8 on Amazon) that we could all hold at Kate’s door.

It was already pitch dark, and it was absolutely freezing cold. The coldest night of the year.

Catherine and Tina were talking as we waited, and I drifted away, catching up on the day’s news on my phone.

A charmer was “South Carolina Dad Sprinkles Meth in Salad Bar.”

Isn’t that just lovely.

Other heart-warming stories of celebrities, politicians and countries laced with sour, selfish news were my evening hors d’oeuvres.

Stuck the phone in my pocket.

Reality set in. No one was coming. It’s a condominium building. Folks have their own lives.

We figured it was OK. We’d knock on Kate’s door anyway.

Then we heard something.

A smiling neighbor walked into the courtyard with some flowers.

Another lovely couple waltzed down the staircase with some candies.

And then another, and another, and another. One brought Kate’s favorite champagne. Another with homemade soup Rick and Kate loved. All kinds of things.

Suddenly, our courtyard was filled—with our condominium family.

————–

We handed out and lit the battery candles—and walked over to Kate’s doorway.

Kate opened that door and saw all of us with those candles in that damp air.

She called to her dear daughter—who was staying with her during these challenging days.

I can’t possibly tell you what it meant to both of them.

They invited us in, and we all circled Kate and her daughter in their living room—holding our candles.

Kate’s eyes said absolutely everything.

We let her know what her husband meant to us—and that we would be there for her.

And we saw on Kate’s daughter’s face the depth of those words.

There was a quiet in the room.

And the room started to glow, not with the light of those candles—but with a feeling that was so strong, and so powerful, and so unexpected.

We all looked at each other.

We all felt it.

In that moment, we found something everyone in that room was looking for. We found something we missed. We found something we all really, really needed.

A little humanity.

We all hugged Kate and her daughter, and Kate asked if she could keep the candles.

Those simple little candles.

Candles that lit the room.

Jimmy Dunne is a modern-day Renaissance Man; a hit songwriter (28 million hit records), screenwriter/producer of hit television series, award-winning author, an entrepreneur—and a Palisadian “Citizen of the Year.” You can reach him at j@jimmydunne.com or jimmydunne.substack.com.