Publication: Journal & Courrier Author: Liz Zissa Date: September 7, 2012 I have met several famous people in my lifetime, but none as memorable as the last one and that stayed with me for a long time. I was working in a hospital when our secretary came in saying there was a big bus parked right outside. It was someone famous. We rushed to the window to get a peek but could see nothing; the windows were tinted black. We begged our secretary to do a reconnaissance mission to find who the bus belonged to. She was back soon with the news: The bus belonged to someone called Harold Conley, and she said he was a country singer. So much for our excitement that day! My break started soon, so I wandered to the lobby and was stopped by the person sitting at the piano in the lobby. There sat the most handsome guy I had ever seen playing the piano and singing. This was no Harold Conley. This was Harry Connick, Jr., with those blue-green eyes that could melt your heart and with the voice that rivaled Frank Sinatra. Oh my! After I recovered equilibrium enough that I could walk, I went over and asked why he was playing in our lobby. And he had a story: A patient in our hospice unit undergoing chemotherapy had tickets to his show that night in Ohio. His daughter, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to make that concert, had written ahead of time to Harry’s manager and explained the situation and asked if Connick could drop him a note or even call him. Harry did one better: He drove from Ohio, a several-hour drive, between concerts and gave the patient (and the rest of us) an impromptu concert in our lobby. The whole hospital was soon abuzz with the news that Harry Connick, Jr. had played a private concert in our lobby. Connick made an impression on me that day, something I will never forget. He had driven several hours between concerts just to give one of his fans the concert of a lifetime, and I did get his autograph. I was in awe of this gentleman. I read a few days later that the patient had died just after that concert, but I am sure he took with him the knowledge that there are caring people out there. And we had met one of them. Thanks, Mr. Connick!