Ramsey Lewis’s rollicking jazz and Christmas songs transported the children of Jenner Elementary School on Wednesday to a day long past, when nobody in Pamela Brown’s class or any other room could hear the percussion of gunfire in the streets at snack time.
Lewis, who attended 5th through 8th grades at the school, graduated from Jenner in 1949– before the Cabrini-Green housing development had sprung up all around and the gangs started shooting at one another over the heads of schoolchildren.
His spirited, 30-minute Christmas concert in the school’s auditorium Wednesday afternoon sent sounds of music and laughter toward Jenner’s front doors, which stare blindly through milky windows at the imposing, red-brick walls of the notorious 500-502 W. Oak St. high-rise in volatile Cabrini.
Who in this neighborhood of rusting Chevys and drug turf sings of one-horse open sleighs? The children of Jenner. Lakeisha. And Sparkel. And Crystal.
The concert delivered the children for a while from urban worries, infusing the school with a mood drastically different than that which prevails in the apartments and hallways and parking lots of Cabrini.
“It’s like night and day, totally different,” said Sal Avila, an East Chicago District police officer who patrols the neighborhood and keeps a watchful eye on the school. “This gives the kids a chance to be kids.”
Lakeisha Philibert’s bright smile was as telling as her brief review. “It was good,” said the 12-year-old after the concert.
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Sometimes Lakeisha’s stomach knots up on the walk to school, she worries so about her safety as she navigates the streets of Cabrini.
This has been one of the most difficult years in Jenner’s near century-old history. In October, after an episode of sporadic gunfire, Chicago schools chief Paul Vallas revisited the idea to move Jenner students out of Cabrini until a new facility is built in about two years.
But parents rallied together to save the school–largely because of transcendent moments such as Wednesday’s concert. Last month, Vallas announced that Jenner would remain open.
Lewis’ homecoming was about more than music and his legendary status in the jazz community.
“Most of these children have no idea who I am,” said Lewis, 62. “But that really isn’t important. The reason why I visit is because I want them to know we have something in common, no matter how successful they may think I am.
“We share something. I lived in this community. I went to school in the same building. Probably sat in the same classrooms as some of them. And with hard work, I became someone they can be proud of. I want them to know they can do the same.”
Lewis’s family shared a three-room apartment in Cabrini-Green about four blocks from the school.
“When I come back, it looks like the school has gotten smaller,” said Lewis, whose tall, slender frame towered over the students who rushed to meet him. “My memories are fond. I remember having teachers who cared and good friends here. And I still get that same feeling when I walk through the door.”
“Here’s a physical, living, breathing example of someone who experienced the obstacles and overcame it,” Jenner Principal Sandra Satinover said.
For Shenetca Knox, 9, the concert was more than a diversion; it may have been inspirational. “Tonight when I go home, I’m going to ask my mommy if I can take piano lessons,” she said.
Before the concert, the children who had assembled fidgeted in their seats.
But the busiest hands in the auditorium were those of Lewis, whose restless fingers, dancing across the keyboard of a piano brought from his Chicago studio, caused all other commotion to cease.
“It helps the kids motivate themselves,” said Darlene Jones, a security officer at the school. “They feel they can’t do it because of what’s around: drugs and shootings.”
Five years ago, the dangers facing Jenner’s children gained an icon. He was 7-year-old Dantrell Davis, shot one October morning by a gang sniper as he walked with his mother from the 500-502 Oak building across the street to school.
Violence in Cabrini has declined since then, but gangs and guns still pose a near-constant threat. On a wall in the hallway directly across from the doors of the auditorium, pictures drawn by students told the story of a school ever conscious of the problems outside.
“Be safe at school,” was the message scrawled in crayon on one. The theme: Using the phone in an emergency.
“Please help me, my child just got shot,” said a woman in one picture talking to police on the phone.
In Room 32, the preschool children of Brown’s Head Start class had a quiet free time as Lewis played in the auditorium upstairs. Even this time of day, gunshots have been known to ring out along Oak Street and other nearby streets, Avila said.
Lately, Cabrini-Green has been calm. But, Avila said, “It’s a situation that could blow up any moment.”
Wednesday, nobody was thinking about that. A giggling chorus filled the air, innocence manifested.
“When I looked out into this audience, I saw inquisitive and excited eyes,” Lewis said. “But I know their eyes may only be this happy for the time I was here.
“They face challenges every day that their peers in other parts of the city and country never experience.”