Chapter 6: HAVING OUR SAY

Each of us left the makeshift green room and filed into the packed press conference which was held in the large ballroom of a swanky hotel in my home town. The reporters were at least twenty deep and twelve seats wide in numbers. We were surprised to see so much interest at such a local spot.

Everyone else who got to the party late like me were filed two or three deep along both walls to the side and crammed in like a pack at the back. Most new artists would have been intimidated by the sight of them but to us this was pretty intimate considering the numbers we usually performed to.

Being first on the platform, Gibson took the middle seat, sitting smack bang in center stage and he left the rest of us to shuffle around him. It wasn't arrogance with Gibson, he had ADHD and found it easier to focus if he was centered by people around him. Had it been anyone else, I'd have told them to move, but Gibson's face sold papers and as the biggest dude of all of us it made sense to place him right where he was because he'd balance any pictures out they printed in the press.

Sliding into my seat next to him, I grabbed a glass of water and took a swig because I was still dehydrated from all the alcohol I had drank the night before. Anyway, the press conference wasn't about who had the biggest ego, it was about bringing attention to the gig and racking up donations.

As the rest found a chair, Alfie guided his wife to the one next-but-one to Gibson, placing himself between them. I chuckled when Alfie scowled as Cody sat next to Lily on the other side and because that dude had it bad for his woman as well.

Our asses had barely hit our chairs before the questions started.

"Tim Jones, Mercury Standard," the first reporter said identifying himself. "Which one of you had the idea for this?"

"Katrina was a while ago, why now?" another chipped in without identifying himself before any of us could reply.

"Which single artists, and bands have signed up?" shouted another. We knew we had the best gig of the year brewing, and I waved my hand for the opportunist questions to stop. Clearing my throat, I smiled for the cameras then cast my eyes around all the news hungry journalists in the room. Before answering the questions already asked, I decided a bit of background context had needed to be addressed.

"The other bands and I represented here today, have been working hard to make this a truly kick ass gig. I'm delighted to say there are so many of our peers out there who have come forward, which shows you how formidable the music industry is when we take up a cause. This one is special to us for a couple of reasons.

"To answer question one, I had been working New Orleans at the time when the hurricane had been forecast to make landfall. I left as scheduled by helicopter the day before the hurricane struck. It was an extremely scary feeling to watch all those people as they tried to evacuate in land. Some couldn't even do that: they had no gas or no money and many nowhere to go. I was one of the lucky ones. I had my own transport by air. Had I not... who knows if I'd have gotten out in time?"

Cameras shuttered, whirred, and clicked, but I could have heard a pin drop in the room in between. We had the media's attention, and we had to make sure it stayed that way until we'd wrung every last cent out of those who tuned in to the fundraiser on TV or came to the live gig.

"What happened following that catastrophe was an epic catalogue of disasters and human suffering. They were many and I felt ashamed to bear witness to much of what happened."

Dull murmured rippled around the room while I paused and took another sip of my water.

"And to answer question two, Why now?" I asked, jogging everyone's memory to this. "Yeah, I hear you, a long time has passed since then but to this day there are people who are still trying to rebuild their lives – many who without our help, will never regain the standard of living they had before."

More cameras clicked their flashes temporarily blinding us, but no one interrupted me. "That standard may not have been very high to begin with, and for others who had worked their whole lives they faced the devastation of being thankful for their lives but not sure if they had the energy to rebuild."

I hear what you're saying, but don't you think this charity concert is a little late in the day for this particular cause? I mean there have been other disasters since then." The question came from a short wavy-haired blonde in her thirties as she looked over her half-rimmed spectacles used to assist her in taking notes.

Gibson signaled to me, frowned and I let him take the floor. "It's never too late, hence the reason this particular cause has our focus. There are people who still need our help, so we've got to try, right? Winds of Change is an important festival to remind people that when the news trucks roll out there are real people behind those stories who still lack the basics of life. According to the media, news stories relating to Hurricane Katrina have long since died, but those people living down there are still in need of help and support. Some still haven't even returned to the area because they can't afford to repair their properties. Believe me this charity fund-raising gig is just as important now as it would have been then."

With his commanding presense and wisdom and authoritative tone, Gibson sounded like a seasoned missionary when he delivered his two cents worth. I suddenly remembered why we'd brought him on board.

His understanding of providing basic needs to villages in Africa cut through all the irrelevant questions the press may have wanted to ask, and even before Alfie and Lily made their verbal contributions, the media were totally sold on the relevance of it all. I was in awe at his knowledge and clarity of thoughts surrounding why the money needed to be raised and what it should be used for.