As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. Since he had no family or friends and the brief, state-financed service was to be held at a pauper's cemetery in southeastern Oklahoma back-country, I volunteered to play for nothing because my heart went out to this lonely man to whom life had been so cruel.

Since I was not familiar with the backwoods area of Oklahoma, I got lost; and being a typical man, I didn't stop for directions. I finally arrived an hour late.... and saw the funeral director had already left because the hearse was nowhere in sight.

There were only the backhoe and digging crew left at the site.... and they were eating lunch when I drove up. I felt badly and apologized to the men for being an hour late for the ceremony. I went to the side of the grave and looked down. The vault lid was already in place. I didn't know what else to do, so I started to play.

The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played my heart and soul out for this man with no family and friends. I played like I've never played before because I felt a deep sadness for this homeless man who at least deserved some bit of honor and recognition of his passing.

And as I played 'Amazing Grace' straight from my gut with a haunting power and beautiful sound I've never experienced, the workers began to weep. They wept; I wept; we all wept together as I played. When I finished, I plucked a nearby wildflower, tossed it on top of the concrete vault, packed up my bagpipes and silently headed back toward my car.

Though my head hung low, my heart was full. As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, "Sweet Jesus, I never seen or heard nothin' as beautiful and touching like that before.... and I've been puttin' in septic tanks for twenty years".