This is the inspiring story of a young man, Dan Caro, and his family, who must rebuild their lives after he is severely burned in their garage at the age of two. They must adapt to a new life that will enable their son to move ahead with his life. How Can YOU Play Drums? illustrates the challenges and obstacles they encounter during his school years as he strives to find a life for himself.With God's love and support, Dan and his family are able to achieve what they originally thought was unimaginable given the hard road that Dan has had to travel. Dan becomes a professional jazz drummer and through his music he becomes an inspiration to others. He has no limitations given his circumstances and in addition to his music, he becomes an inspirational speaker who has travelled across the country playing his drums and speaking to thousands of people!
How Can YOU Play Drums?
Finding Positives from AdversityBy John CaroiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2009 John Caro
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4401-5342-6Contents
Introduction.................................................................viiChapter 1: The Day That Changed Our Lives....................................1Chapter 2: The Healing Begins in Boston......................................12Chapter 3: Danny's Preschool Years...........................................24Chapter 4: School, Sports, and Family Fun....................................30Chapter 5: Medjugorje........................................................38Chapter 6: Danny's Intro to Music and High School............................68Chapter 7: Danny's Budding Career............................................73Chapter 8: Office Work and Toastmasters......................................83Chapter 9: The Effects of Katrina............................................88Chapter 10: Danny Becomes a Shriner and Meets His Mentor.....................93Chapter 11: What Has This Done for Danny and Us?.............................98
Chapter One
The Day That Changed Our Lives
The morning of Wednesday, March 17, 1982 (St. Patrick's Day), started out like a typical New Orleans day in early spring. The temperature was mild and sunny, and flowers were starting to bloom. The grass needed cutting, and I figured I would cut it on the weekend, which was just a couple of days away. Our day started at about 6:30 am. We woke up Johnny (age ten) and Scott (age six) and went through the normal routine of getting them dressed and fed and off to school. Danny was two years old, so we didn't bother to wake him that early, but he probably heard the hustle and bustle, as he got out of bed to join in. He didn't want to miss anything.
After Johnny and Scott got on the school bus and everything settled down, I kissed Marilyn and Danny good-bye, and they followed me outside to see me off to work. Marilyn had Danny in her arms, and he was crying because he wanted to go with me. I looked in the rearview mirror until they were out of sight, and I was off to another busy day at the insurance agency that I had formed with a good friend just two months earlier. About an hour after I arrived at my office, our new secretary answered a phone call, and I overheard her saying that it was a wrong number and that there was no John Taylor here. I told her that maybe she'd misunderstood and that they were actually looking for me, John Caro. The phone soon rang again, and sure enough, it was my next-door neighbor and good friend, Donna. In a relatively calm voice, but with a sense of urgency, Donna said, "John, this is Donna. Danny has had an accident, and you need to come home."
I responded, "I just got to my office, and I have a busy day planned. Can you tell me what happened? Is it serious?"
Emphatically she answered, "I'm not sure how serious it is, but please come home right away. I think they're taking him to the hospital." I started getting a little nervous but consoled myself with the idea that Danny, always into everything-climbing, running, and so on-probably had broken his arm or something. Surely it couldn't be life threatening, but was it serious enough for her to call me? Marilyn did tend to exaggerate small injuries. On my way home (a thirty-minute trip), I had to cross the Mississippi River bridge, which was always loaded with traffic. I was beginning to get nervous. As I approached the top of the bridge, a yellow fire-station ambulance passed me. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Danny was in it. When I arrived back home, Marilyn and Danny were not there. The garage door was open, and a couple of lingering firemen told me that Danny had been burned and that he and Marilyn were on their way to the hospital. The firemen told me that he had been burned pretty seriously.
I walked around to survey the damage, but I could see none, other than soot on the walls and the smell of smoke. The structure hadn't been damaged, so I thought it couldn't have been that serious. While completing his report, one of the firemen asked me, "How long has your family lived here?"
I said, "We have only been here about a year."
He asked me, "Have you had any other fires in the house in the past year?" and I said no. He said, "It looks like the water heater ignited and caused a flash fire, but to be sure, we will continue to investigate the cause." As he continued his questioning, I looked around the garage and saw that a plastic broom we had recently bought was partially melted. I also noticed Danny's new Snoopy tennis shoes on the floor. The rubber tops of the shoes had melted into the canvas.
I asked the fireman, "Can you tell me exactly what happened here?"
He replied, "When we arrived, we saw that your son had been burned, and Mrs. Caro was in a very emotional state. We proceeded to remove the baby's burned clothes and shoes, and then we took him from the garage and onto the grass in the front yard and poured water from your pool over his little body. One of your neighbors, Norman, who had been a volunteer fireman in his past, also came to help when he saw the fire truck and ambulance in front of your home, just as we were pouring water on your son."
Norman, who was standing there, said, "Little Danny was very cooperative and managed to get up on his hands and knees as they poured the water over his burning body. He was a real little man to cooperate as he did."
The fireman said, "Immediately after that, we put Danny in the yellow ambulance, and his mother got in, and they rushed them to the hospital."
I still had no idea of the seriousness of the accident. I walked into the backyard and saw the lawn mower on the half-cut patch of grass. Marilyn had started cutting it-something she had never done in our eleven years of marriage-and she had been interrupted because of the accident. The firemen told me that they had taken Danny to Charity Hospital in New Orleans because it had a burn unit. Also, Charity Hospital had one of the best trauma care emergency rooms in the country. My good neighbor Donna never left my side during the five minutes I spent surveying the garage and yard. The firemen said that Danny probably had been in the garage, looking for his wagon or some other toy, when he'd knocked over the gas can that was stored in the corner of the garage, opposite and as far away as possible from the water heater. The firemen said that the spilled gasoline probably had ignited when the water heater lit the fumes traveling low to the ground; Danny happened to be in the middle of the flash that ensued. Images of bad sunburn entered my head, but I refused to accept the seriousness of the situation.
Donna told me that we had better leave for the hospital. She drove, and I prayed. The anxiety was starting to build in me.
Donna knew how badly Danny was burned, because she was the first neighbor to arrive on the scene in response to Marilyn's frantic screams for help. The trip took about fifteen minutes, but it seemed a lot longer. It was an awkward feeling, because the day had started out so normally, and now disruption and chaos had stepped in.
As we arrived at Charity Hospital, the traffic was heavy, and there was no place to park, so Donna dropped me off. She told me she would make sure that our other sons, Johnny and Scott, would be okay; they could stay with her until we returned home. She and her husband were great neighbors and friends that anyone who needed help could...
