Grateful American: A Journey from Self to Service(66)

After 9/11, my life’s focus radically changed, as it did for so many people. The transformation didn’t happen all at once, but my mind-set definitely shifted. I still cared about my acting career, but in an earnest and new way I cared about so much more than acting. Wherever I went, I looked for new ways I could support the troops. I had no formal backing or team of people alongside me. As I went from acting job to acting job, I simply did whatever I could that related to this new thing I’d come to care about.

In 2003, about two weeks before my first trip to Iraq with the USO, I called up Kimo and said I’d like to put together a music event to honor the troops. I figured we could find a venue in Chicago and host a show, inviting any troops nearby to come and hang out. We’d play some fun cover tunes that would make them smile and try to honor them with a free night out. That was my big idea.

Kimo was associated with the National Veterans Art Museum in Chicago, a really cool place with a big area devoted to artwork done by Vietnam veterans. Kimo liked my idea, so he arranged for us to hold the event in the museum’s large upstairs room. We contacted the USO, because we figured they’d know some military personnel we could invite. We ordered pizza and beer. A bunch of troops came over, we put on a show, and everything seemed to go well.

All the band members except me were professional musicians. Even so, our band sounded a little ragged at that hastily-put-together first show. We all sort of knew some songs, but we hadn’t gelled yet as any kind of band. What we lacked in cohesion, we made up for in enthusiasm and volume. For that first show, I played bass. Kimo played guitar. A singer with a tremendous voice named Gina Gonzalez played acoustic guitar and sang with us. My longtime keyboard player, Ben Lewis, played that first show, and his brother Matt played trumpet and belted out some tunes. A fantastic Chicago-area guitarist, Ernie Denov, was there as well, and along with Ben has been with the band ever since. That informal event on June 10, 2003, is now considered the first USO concert my band ever played. We were just Gary and his buddies, playing for the troops. That last phrase began to take a greater hold of my soul. Without knowing it, we joined what we loved doing with a new motivation—and when joy connects to mission, a life’s purpose begins to take shape.

Two weeks later, I went on the USO trip to Iraq. I watched how Kid Rock’s band really entertained the troops and brought smiles to their faces, and I saw by their expressions how the troops felt when someone with a big name showed up just for them. I saw how slumped shoulders turned into lifted spirits. How maybe a soldier would walk into the venue with a thousand-yard stare, but by the end of a show he had a new lightness in his step. The songs of America had reminded him of home, and in a small way, perhaps even reminded him of the freedom he was fighting for. Seeing this transformation was so moving to me. On the 747 on our way back to the States, even though I was tired from the trip, I was full of energy, pumped up and inspired by what I had just experienced. I was standing with some of the USO folks and said, “Gosh, I’d like to take a band on tour. I play music too. You think I could put on a show?” They nodded politely and changed the subject. I’m sure they were thinking, Oh great. Another actor with a band.

But I didn’t ignore the vision starting to take shape within me. After I returned from that first trip to Iraq, I immediately asked the USO where I could go next. They set up another handshake tour to visit troops in Italy two weeks later. They said I could take a few people with me, so in addition to asking my brother-in-law Jack Treese, I called up Kimo. Both guys said yes, and it was great to have these two Vietnam veterans coming on the trip with me.

On July 4, 2003, the USO held a big outdoor celebration at Carney Park, a recreation center for US troops near Naples, Italy. I shook hands there. We watched Mustang Sally, the all-girl band from Nashville, entertain the troops. They put on a great show, and once again I felt the desire to do something like that too. Two days later we visited the troops at the Air Force National Security Agency at La Maddalena, Sardinia, and toured the USS Emory S. Land, a US Navy submarine tender. From there we met with troops at Aviano Air Force Base, where I had the great privilege of experiencing a ride in an F-16, before heading down to Sicily to see troops at the Naval Air Station Sigonella.

I saw how important these handshake tours were for the troops, but I couldn’t get the idea of a band out of my mind. Still, I needed to think through a strategy. Plenty of professional bands were already entertaining the troops—and doing a great job. What could I do that they couldn’t do—particularly when I wasn’t even a professional musician? I began to wonder what sort of message the troops would receive if a new band was put together solely for their encouragement. Maybe this band could be started from the ground up with that mission in mind. Maybe this new band wouldn’t exist for any other reason than entertaining the troops.

Maybe this new band, in a way, would always belong to them.

I called up the USO and mumbled through my vision. I still had no fleshed-out plan. Again, they humored me for a second but quickly changed the subject, wanting me to continue with the handshake tours. They mainly wanted more well-known bands with bigger names to do the entertaining. The USO’s mission is to deliver celebrities to the troops, and while I was slowly rising in my profile as an actor, I understood their point of view regarding musical acts. Still, I felt my idea had merit. I kept talking it up, kept nudging them about it, kept going on USO tours, and eventually they softened. Maybe I just wore them down, but I think they saw how devoted I was to the overall USO mission, so finally they said okay.