Singer’s Role: Soul Man

Sam Parsons plucks at his guitar and belts out old songs to a roomful of octogenarians in Orange who set aside their canes and walkers to clap enthusiastically for the music man who made their day--again.

With his toothy grin and a deep faith in God, Parsons has taken his former nightclub act to nursing homes across Orange County. Parsons visits between 60 and 80 retirement homes, Alzheimer’s homes and hospitals each month to minister to the very sick and the very lonely.

“I wish I could get them all up dancing,” Parsons said. “Many of these people never even get visited.”

It’s a far cry from the bad old days, he says, when drugs were his constant companion on the road as a musician. Fortified now by his belief in God, Parsons seeks to bring music, cheer and religious inspiration to people living their last days on Earth.

About three of his regular listeners die each week. Parsons said it’s hard to lose so many friends, but that it’s the Alzheimer’s patients who break his heart.

“These are people who don’t remember their own name or their spouses,” he said, recalling a time when he sang “America the Beautiful” to a group of Alzheimer’s patients. “But when they heard the song, several of them put their hands over their hearts and wept and sang along.”

Many say Parsons’ homespun stories and kindness help keep them going. He’s the only visitor some see all month.

“I enjoy listening to him,” said Ed Schulueter, 99, of Orange, who slapped his hand against a glass-topped table in time to the sentimental tunes at a recent visit. “It makes me feel good.”

Parsons started working full time for his “Good News Ministry” over six years ago when he quit his job as a marketing director to make music for a living.

“He makes them all feel like they’re somebody special,” said Diana Roberts, executive director of Casa Orange, a retirement center in Orange where Parsons plays once a month. “Once he finishes, he chitchats with everyone, shakes their hands and gives the ladies a hug.”

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Parsons wanted to play music during the day, so a natural niche was to sing for retired people and those who aren’t at work during the day. He soon branched out to playing gigs at local hospitals and going from room to room, taking requests and singing his heart out for those in pain.

“The love of God shines through him, so it’s pretty infectious,” said Senior Pastor Mike Beals at Parsons’ church, Mission Hills Christian Center in Rancho Santa Margarita. “It’s hard to not be in a better mood when Sam leaves the room.”

A self-proclaimed former drug addict, Parsons, 50, was “saved” 16 years ago and is unabashed about his goal to bring Jesus Christ’s message to those he visits. He said about 600 people have “come to Christ” during the his six-year mobile music ministry.

Parsons has always loved music, and used to devote his life to touring and cutting records. He toured with several big bands--Ditty Float and The Four Ladds--in the 1970s and even cut one solo album, called “Sam Parsons” in 1973.

In those days, Parsons said he was too drug-addled to be clear about his musical goals and his faith. But his talents started to decline and he eventually hung up his guitar to work in the corporate arena.

“On the road, you had to take pills to keep going,” he said. “I was dead in the water.”

He studied music at Weber State College in Ogden, Utah. But he didn’t finish school because he was lured away from the classes and his part-time job selling shoes at $30 a week to join Ditty Float for a whopping $175 a week.

That band eventually fizzled. In the early 1970s, Parsons hooked up with The Four Ladds, a band popular in the 1950s that has since faded. He went on the road with them for a year and a half.

After quitting the band, Parsons moved to Hawaii, where he lived from 1979 through 1983, singing in nightclubs and, he says, taking LSD every day. He then returned to Southern California, where he began a spiritual transformation that led to his conversion to Christianity.

Parsons said a friend helped him develop a personal relationship with Jesus, something that he didn’t have growing up in Waco, Texas, when he went to a Southern Baptist church and did rote memorization of Bible verses.

“You can stand in a garage, but that doesn’t make you a car,” he said. “Sitting in church sure doesn’t make you a Christian.”

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“Music links the older people to a happier time in their life,” Beals said. “Their defenses go down. Sam is an agent of God’s love who sneaks in behind people’s defenses.”

Standing in the midst of misty-eyed older people at Casa Orange, Parsons weaves his Christian testimony into the mix of songs.

He belts out songs like “I’m Looking Over A Four-Leaf Clover” and “Edelweiss,” in a throaty, smooth voice.

Parsons says he has no illusions of greatness--he’s only a sinner, like anyone else, trying to let God work through him.

“I don’t miss the nightclubs,” he said. “This is the best thing I’ve ever done.”