The Angels of Hell, Michigan

The Angels of Hell, Michigan by AP West

It was a cold November Wednesday evening in 1998 when Serendipity unpacked her guitar and flute from the trunk of her car. She headed into The Blind Pig in Ann Arbor, Michigan for its local band night. This was a national rock venue and she was a young woman in a new city trying to prove herself and trying to network with the local bands.

In Cleveland, she had a name for herself, a band, a steady stream of gigs, radio appearances, interviews, and had spent the previous summer touring similar venues to this one across the East Coast. Here, however, she was a nobody. Her husband’s job required relocation to Detroit. She was forced to start from scratch.

As she entered the venue and surveyed the room, she introduced herself to the soundman, a small angry looking fellow with a buzz cut and tattoos and scars running the length of his exposed skin. There was thrash metal music blasting on the sound system as he set up for the evening’s performances—three bands were on the bill and she was scheduled to go in between.

He eyed her with a suspicious, almost unbelieving expression as she introduced herself and she told him how she liked her sound and that he would probably have to remain at the board to tweak volume levels during her performance. His face pinched up in a sour scowl as he grumbled about having to miss out on his smoke break to cater to a prima-donna.

At the bar, she ordered herself a lemon water and tea and disappeared into a back corner of the venue. Under her jacket, she tried to conceal her left arm, which was in a sling from a dislocated shoulder the week before. She knew she could still play, but she didn’t like to advertise any vulnerability, especially since she was alone. She people watched as the venue started to fill up and the other bands arrived with their local following –most of them predominantly white, middle class college aged kids from the University of Michigan.

One bandleader approached and introduced himself to Serendipity, surrounded by his friends for support. It seemed that they were scheduled to go on last but all of their friends showed up early, so they wondered if she would be willing to switch time slots. She agreed. After all, her friends, fans, and family were 250 miles away. She figured any music industry people that might be lurking about in the club might stay once her crystal clear voice rang out over the speakers, penetrating the souls of her audience. It’s what she did, and she did it well.

The other band happily informed the sound guy of the new schedule who shot her a dirty look, but nodded to the young eager musicians in agreeance. Serendipity went back to her people watching as the first band set up their equipment on stage.

A man shuffled into the front door who caught her attention and he sat down across the room from Serendipity, noticing her as well. He was balding and middle aged with greasy hair slicked back in long strands and dark, thick glasses. He seemed nervous and a bit creepy, and he continued to stare at her in a way that unnerved her. She tried to ignore his presence and focused on centering herself for her performance.

As the first band started, Serendipity melted into the upholstery hoping to not be noticed at all, a trick she had done since child hood. She was very good at only being seen when she wanted to be seen. Only others who might recognize her luminiferous light can pick her out of a crowd and zone in on her.

Suddenly, two African American men dressed in blue work uniforms bust through the front doors, hastily paying the cover charge. They looked like they were intently scanning the crowd looking for someone. When they glanced up to the back of the room and saw Serendipity, their faces lit up as if in recognition of an old friend. They turned and made a beeline directly to her table and asked politely if they could join her.

“What did you do to your arm?” one asked.

“Eh, old Army injury I reinjured at work.” She replied, shrugging it off like it was no big deal.

“Army, huh?” they asked surprised.

“Yeah, I was a musician in the Army Bands but got hurt in some combat training exercises.” She said with a confident smile.

Their name tags said Davey and Dee. Despite looking like they just came from work, they smelled like roses and seemed gentle, kind, and truly interested in striking up a conversation with the unassuming singer trying so desperately to go unnoticed. Besides, these guys made her feel safer.

The sound guy, however, seemed very irritated that these two had come in to a club that so obviously catered to a white rock audience. To make matters worse, they proceeded to sit down with the prima-donna of white girl singers whom he had already pegged as being the bane of his work shift that evening.

Despite the home of Motown being a mere 45 minutes away, Ann Arbor of the 1990’s was still a predominantly white town that still had remnants of segregation and prejudice. Serendipity, however, hated racism. She was raised in the small Ohio town where the Grand High Master of the KKK resided in the 1970’s and her father, with whom she was estranged, was a closet member of the Klan. She grew up listening to his bigotry, his racial slurs, his disapproval of desegregation, and his fear mongering. It disgusted her.

Every chance she got, Serendipity practiced seeing a person’s soul versus judging them for the color of their skin. This night was no different. Although she was surprised by Davey and Dee and their familiarity with her, she was not frightened as she had been conditioned to be as a child. She knew that her helpers always came disguised as that which she might be most likely to dismiss. It happened before. On the inside, she could see they were beautiful beings.

Davey and Dee told Serendipity that they were brothers who lived over on Angel’s Pass in Hell, Michigan. They reported just “hanging out” when getting the sudden urge to come to The Blind Pig. One of the first questions out of Davey’s mouth was “Why do you play music?”

The question startled her at first, but then she said what came to her mind. “Do you believe in a Higher Universal Power?” she asked.

“Lawwwws Yes, Darlin’!” was his tooth grinned answer.

And so they embarked on a fabulous spiritual conversation that centered on her motivation for delivering healing energy through music and song. Throughout the conversation, she was amazed that these guys just showed up out of nowhere and seemed to know that which was hidden deep within her—things no one else on the planet knew. At the time, she had nothing but her faith and the validation of her fans to keep her going. She ate up every word.

The next band whom Serendipity had traded places with took the stage and had played their first few songs when suddenly the angry sound man came marching up to the table accusing Davey and Dee of stealing a knob off of the sound board. He threatened to not let her play if the knob wasn’t returned.

At that moment, the band on stage invited her up to jam flute and backing vocals with them. Serendipity left Davey, Dee and the sound guy to their own heated discussion while she jumped on stage with flute in hand, ready to play. The crowd was responding well when all of a sudden the sound man turned off the sound system to the stage and took over the microphone.

“No more music is happening here tonight until the person who stole the knob off of my sound board returns it!” On stage, the band yelled out obscenities and spoke out on behalf of Serendipity, saying it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t go on after she had so graciously surrendered her time slot.

At that moment, it was decided that they didn’t need a sound system. The crowd surrounded Serendipity and she danced and sang in the middle of the circle at the top of her lungs, totally acoustic. They clapped, sang, and jumped in unison with her and the energy boiled over into heat and excitement…until the sound guy started blasting thrash metal through the speakers again at full volume in an effort to clear the club.

Soaked in sweat and afterglow, Serendipity said goodbye to the other musicians and found her new friends who helped her pack up. Davey and Dee agreed to escort her to her car, which was parked in the parking garage across the street. She said she was fine doing it on her own, but they insisted. They seemed in a hurry to get her out of that club and her inner voice said there was nothing to fear as long as she went with these two men and not by herself. A glance over to the creepy guy who had been staring at her earlier confirmed that feeling.

Davey and Dee carried her equipment and took her good arm, escorting her to her car. While they stood there, they told her she had done an excellent job despite the obstacles that were placed before her. Serendipity thanked them for their conversation and their protection and tried to leave but Davey said, more seriously than he had been all evening, that she had to wait.

A police cruiser rolled past them, slowly, as they all waved in unison, letting them know that everything was ok. The officers waved back and pulled over. They parked next to The Blind Pig and went inside.

Davey and Dee suddenly changed their tone and their voice expressed an urgency Serendipity hadn’t heard before. They began to tell her that she would see them again someday, but not in the same form. They were two angels from Hell, Michigan and they were there that night to protect her from a terrible fate. They work together on various planets, but Earth is their favorite, mostly because of the music.

As the police led the creeper from The Blind Pig in handcuffs, Davey and Dee looked to Serendipity and said, “Go! It is time. You are safe. Keep playing your music. It’s important!” Serendipity didn’t ask what had happened. She knew in her gut that this man, the one that made her stomach turn, meant to do her harm and he had already done harm to other women. Davey and Dee had saved her from him.

As she opened the door to get into her car, the two angels from Hell, Michigan handed Serendipity a little black notebook with a worn cover and blank pages within. Dee said, “Write down your dreams, your wishes, but be careful what you ask for…you might just get it.”

Serendipity drove home in absolute euphoria. Unable to sleep when she tip toed back into her house a little past midnight, she pulled out the little black book. In it she wrote, “Thank you for giving me a record deal so that I can spread healing love and light through my music.”

The next morning, the phone rang. It was a record company executive, offering her a $20,000 artist development contract. He had heard about her performance and rebellion at The Blind Pig the night before because his attorney was in attendance.

Later that day, Serendipity drove out to Angel’s Pass in Hell, Michigan to find Davey and Dee and only found an abandoned old shack where they said they had lived. She said thank you for the little black notebook and drove away.