Support for Tom

Tom is an old banjo player, veteran, and house painter who has given his life to music, work, and the people around him. He’s also my best friend and the most photogenic person I know. He did not ask for a fundraiser, he wouldn't want one, but here's why he deserves one.

He has serious dental work that needs to be done. He doesn’t have insurance. He’ll be out of work while recovering. And rent doesn’t wait.

This fundraiser is to help Tom cover:

-Urgent dental work

-Rent and living expenses during recovery

-A small cushion so he doesn’t have to say no to the joys of life just to stay afloat

I met Tom when I managed a café in Flemington a handful of years ago. He came in and asked if he could play a banjo we had laying around. I said, “Sure, but I don’t have finger picks.” He smiled and said, “I don’t need them. I frail.” I said, “Me too.” We fist-bumped and have been best friends ever since.

Tom doesn’t drive. He takes buses, trains, and relies on friends to get to gigs and painting jobs across New Jersey/Pennsylvania. Even with arthritis in his hands and sciatica shooting down his leg, he keeps painting and frailing banjo, not because it’s easy, but because he loves the music and must make ends meet.

Tom brought me under his wing and into the world of festivals, old-time jams, and late-night campfire tunes. I only played the music but not with others; he changed that. The Burnt Mills Highballers would not exist if it wasn't for him bringing me to Wind Gap/AFBA where we met Sam, Susan, Lucas, Charlie, Jerry, and everyone that has made my musical world so fulfilling and nurturing. He gave me my first fiddle and told me, “You know how the songs go already, just play them.” When I finally scratched out my first tune, he handed me the fiddle and said, “It’s yours now.”

Tom doesn’t ask for anything; though he hints when he needs help. We cover his gas and festival tickets through the band fund when we can, because if it were up to him, he’d stay home and work instead. Money is the biggest weight on his back: rent, food, medical bills, you know, basic needs. He is not able to turn down any jobs, even when he’s in pain.

Tom is a proud man. Please do not tell him this is happening. He wouldn’t want the attention. But he deserves a break, and he deserves to know that the world hasn’t forgotten how to take care of people like him. Also, he dropped his banjo in a parking lot the other night and cracked the neck. He's still playing it because, one, it's still mostly playable; two, it's his banjo; and three, they ain't cheap. How he puts it: “I'm strapped right now.” The banjo, obviously, isn't the reason for this fundraiser though.

If you’ve seen him play, heard him sing, had him paint your bedroom or even just believe in honoring our older generations who keep the music going, consider chipping in.

“Music ruined my life,” he likes to say, “and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Let’s show him that loving music doesn’t mean living in pain.

Here's a video of us playing Cindy while busking at ShadFest two years ago.