I felt sick to my stomach as I pulled up to Lakewood’s Winchester Music Tavern for my first open mic that Tuesday night. Sitting in my car on Madison Avenue, my stage fright took over. I almost didn’t walk inside.
I’d played guitar and sang Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan songs since I was a kid, but I’d never done it in front of anyone except my parents and now-wife. My hands shook as I scribbled my name on the sign-up sheet. Sipping a Miller High Life alone in the corner, I wanted to throw up.
But then Mikey Silas walked up.
Tall, gentle and kind, he hadn’t seen me before and wanted to introduce himself. “I’m pretty nervous,” I said, totally underselling it. “You’ll be great,” he said, and offered a few pointers.
Reassured, I took the stage … er, elevated platform in the tavern and confidently sang my songs.
Luckily, that first time, I preceded Silas, who shocked me by belting soulful piano ballads with the range and theatrics of a Broadway performer. Turns out, he was the centerpiece of one of Cleveland’s coolest up-and-coming bands, Apostle Jones, a blues revival of sorts that would conquer every stage in Cleveland over the coming years. I thought he was just some rando. Had I seen him perform first, noticed the gap in our talent as wide as the Cuyahoga River, I might have left.
Despite all that, Silas took interest in my tunes and, later, my band. He encouraged me to keep coming back to open mics, which I did for the next three years. Today, I’m a better musician because he made me feel special that day, like I belonged on that stage.
Now, I know I’m not that special, at least not in the sense that I’m the only one who has felt more welcome and worthy because of Silas. By now, he’s shepherded dozens of aspiring musicians who want to share their art. People like Silas are the glue that holds a scene and a community together. They build great things by simply showing up and being kind.
“One thing I really love about Apostle Jones is this spirit of collaboration,” he told Annie Nickoloff in this month’s Most Interesting People feature on page 34. “This idea of including community and other people along your journey, I think it’s important.”
More than just talented or fascinating, Cleveland’s Most Interesting People are important because, like Silas, they’re facilitators for others who are looking to make their own marks on this city. Be it Huck Kurinsky, a 9-year-old BMX pro who flies high; brothers Sam and Caleb Skelton, who insist on surfing Lake Erie despite the elements; or the Gangster Granny, who has become a social media sensation with millions of followers, this year’s class shows us that we can do great things despite the world constantly telling us that we can’t, especially when you’re from a place like Cleveland.
So, this month, let these great Clevelanders inspire you to make 2024 the year you finally gain traction on that goal or to keep on grinding, despite the odds. And when you do accomplish your dreams, don’t forget to take others along with you.
