There’s a theme running through the latest entries to appear here. Completely unplanned, I wrote first about the passing of a wartime undercover agent in a piece that reads like The Bourne Obituary. Then I told you about a robbery attempt on a local jeweler that could have been out of a Dirty Harry sequel. Maybe it’s fitting at holiday time to tell about acts of courage as we wrap up a year that’s seen its share of major events, both uplifting and depressing. Today I will tell you about Killian Mansfield in a story about bravery of a much different kind.
Killian’s story caught my eye in a New York Magazine article by David Amsden that you can read in its entirety by linking to Never Mind the Pity. Husband and I have a little condo in upstate New York near the Woodstock/West Shokan area where the story unfolds, so the landmarks are as familiar to me as the legendary music figures that came to play a part in Killian’s life as they did in my own youthful memories.
Killian was a self-taught ukulele prodigy and lover of all musical genres. Diagnosed at age 11 with a rare, invasive cancer called synovial sarcoma, Killian underwent chemo, radiation, and surgeries that allowed a remission until the tumors reappeared several years later. While in the hospital facing a grim prognosis, the 15-year-old daydreamed about musicians he’d love to play with on an album to raise money for Hope & Heroes, the new integrative-therapy program at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital designed to treat cancer patients by keeping them not only alive, but comfortable and in control.
He put together a dream list of musicians that included New Orleans songwriter Dr. John; drummer for the Band Levon Helm; Kate Pierson of the B-52’s; John Sebastian of the Lovin’ Spoonful; Todd Rundgren; David Bowie; and renowned bluesman Slim Harpo. When he came home to recuperate, word quickly spread through the close-knit community of musicians, yuppie weekenders, local business people, deer hunters, and anyone else with a connection. Before long, and to his amazement, his dream list was filled with the exception of David Bowie, who couldn’t be reached. Killian decided that time was of the essence so he devised another way to include Starmanamong the tracks.
Over the course of recording, Killian’s health deteriorated and those involved began to wonder if the project could be completed before his death. But more talents hopped on board fueling his already boundless incentive. Scott Healy joined in when he wasn’t playing with the house band for The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien. Jazz guitarist John Pizzarelli stopped by to jam with Killian, amazed at his virtuosity and originality. Said Pizzarelli, “When I got there, I sort of thought I was on a kind of playdate, right? Then Killian starts playing his ukulele, and I was like, Oh really?”
The album did get completed in time. Savoy Records presented Killian with a prototype CD on his 16th birthday. He listened to it intently for several hours before signing the papers for his first record deal. Then on the night of August 20th, 2009, with his father holding his hand and his mother playing “Tonight You Belong to Me” on his ukulele, Killian left the world where he had made such an indelible mark. If the measure of a man is what he leaves behind, then for all the things Killian Mansfield could have been, he already was.
You can buy Killian’s unforgettable CD, Somewhere Else, at Amazon with proceeds going to support Hope & Heroes. And see if his voice on Prince’s Kiss doesn’t make your heart sing.
Daughter’s Featured Foto for this month of Hannukah shows Jerusalem’s Western Wall
