Jeanne Mead’s face is a study in concentration.
Violin tucked under her chin, right arm held high, bow ready, she settles her scant five-foot frame into a balanced stance.
A music book of simple two- and three-line songs sits open in front of her, perched on a tall black metal stand.
Drawing the bow back and forth slowly, she plays the first strong, sweet notes of “Michael Row the Boat Ashore.”
A harsh, piercing tone interrupts the flow. Allowing herself a small grimace, Jeanne starts over. Finally satisfied, she moves on to “Ode to Joy.”
The impromptu concert finished, Jeanne, 69, smiles and says, “Recently, I was thinking, ‘Just a little while ago, I didn’t know any of this. I couldn’t read a note of music … I’ve come from zero to where I am.’” Continue Reading »





