Meet Danny Jamison -- not a busker, but a saxophonist at practice in the bowels of Lower Michigan Avenue
CHICAGO (CBS) -- CBS 2's Joe Donlon was driving home recently, when he stopped at a red light downtown and heard music – like someone playing a saxophone.
He rolled down the window and tried to figure out where it was coming from. He took a few turns, but he found not only the source – but a new friend. And it amounts to a lesson for all of us to listen.
Donlon's encounter with the mysterious saxophone player happened close to midnight, in the dark, dirty, and largely empty underbelly of Chicago that is the underground sections of roadways that run near the Chicago River – specifically, in this case, Lower Michigan Avenue beneath the Wrigley Building.
A neon sign proudly advertising Wendella Boat Rides hangs over a French Renaissance-style balustrade attached to the Wrigley Building itself. But behind it, there are bars over shuttered subterranean windows – and dumpsters and rat traps join the scenery nearby.
But the atmosphere changes completely thanks to Danny Jamison and his tenor and soprano sax. He's working – not for a living, but on perfecting his craft.
"I started playing trumpet in sixth grade – switched to saxophone my junior year of high school," Jamison told us.
You might think this is a story on a street musician. The Chicago streets have long been a place to showcase your talents and make some scratch – but again, that's not what brings Jamison to Lower Michigan Avenue.
"I get offered money. I tell them, hey, if you liked it – if that means that you like what you heard - that's a more significant blessing to me than a couple bucks," Jamison said.
People assume by default that Jamison is a busker – and even get confused by the water jug he sets on the balustrade while he plays.
"A lot of times, when people see – they see I don't have any bucket or anything – I have nothing. I have my water, so (they think), 'Oh, that's where I'm supposed to put the money!' So they're sticking money under my water," he said. "I'm like, 'No, you don't have to do that. I'm just out here practicing.'"
Jamison is not a busker – he's a professional musician. And practice sessions on Lower Michigan Avenue are part of his routine.
He drives downtown all the way from Flossmoor – at least twice a week. Let's call that a 45-minute drive each way, twice a week – to practice.
"And I like the peace and quiet and the serenity – and I'm able to focus," Jamison said. At home, you've got the phone ringing, you've got your wife upstairs. You know, its not the same."
On Lower Michigan Avenue, there are no distractions, no stage, no audience. But of course, it's not his basement either – not even close.
Jamison has been practicing at that spot next to the Wrigley Building since the mid-90s. Back then, he was working for an insurance company.
He couldn't afford the $20 to park downtown, so he waited for a 25-cent metered space to open up in the parking lot on – you guessed it, Lower Michigan Avenue next to the Wrigley Building.
That was when it came to him.
"So I said, well let me grab the horn. And once I played and heard the acoustics, you know, it sort of made me forget all about the garbage cans and the rats," Jamison said.
He has now been coming to the same spot for 25 years. When he started, he was playing at the Cotton Club, at 1710 S. Michigan Ave. in the South Loop.
"That whole time, I would come over here to warm up – so when I walked in the door, I got all the squeaks out of the way – at least in my mind," Jamison said.
Over the years, Jamison has worked for an airline, and has gone back to school and become a computer engineer. He currently works as a real estate appraiser.
And all that time, he's kept coming back to the same spot to hone his musical skills.
"I'll do about an hour on each instrument," Jamison said. "If I get here at 8:30… I'm usually out of here before 12."
Twelve midnight – just a block away from where Joseph Kromelis – a beloved Chicago icon whom everyone knows as the Walking Man – was set on fire and critically injured last month.
"All of the security guys – they've always looked out for me," Jamison said.
A siren from a passing emergency vehicle was heard as Donlon talked with Jamison. But he's philosophical about the reality of Chicago's streets.
"This is Chicago, man," he said. "You know, I mean, this is city is like – I hate to use slang, but it's not for punks."
At 68, Jamison still plays basketball and golf. And he says his music keeps his mind challenged and sharp.
So as things bustle above on the Magnificent Mile, it's more than just the sound that opens up in the dark of night down below in the bowels of the city. A man and his saxophone both embrace the grit, the grime, and the unbridled freedom that comes with playing in front of a wide-open city.
He looks out over the river as he practices – where the sights aren't gritty and grimy, but striking and beautiful.
"I've got the moon. I've got the beautiful skyline. I've got the water. This is God," Jamison said. "This is God."
