Somebody's gotta pay. That was the last angry yell when they locked the doors at Joe Louis Arena, and that was the echo in the air Friday afternoon, on a quiet street in Birmingham, as Bryan Murray stood beyond the hedges of his front lawn, a few steps off the deck, talking about why he'd just had his head cut off."I haven't even told my daughter yet," he said, looking down the street toward a group of children riding bicycles. He turned at the sound of TV satellite trucks pulling up to his driveway, one, two, three. "I guess when she sees those, she'll know something's up."
He almost always has a cigarette in his mouth, if not that, a sucking candy, and he walks around the room blowing smoke or making tongue-clucking sounds and listening, always listening, because that is what a good teacher does. Listens. Now and then, he'll interrupt with a correction, or write something down, maybe show you how to play it. He makes it seem simple, and when you get frustrated, he'll blow a cloud of smoke, grin and say, "Relax. It takes two or three weeks to become a jazz musician."
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.