Sometimes accessibility looks like community

A ticketing oversight left Jennifer without an accessible seat at one of the summer’s biggest concerts. What happened next became an unforgettable reminder that sometimes accessibility looks a lot like community.

A large crowd fills Pine Knob Music Theatre before the Train, Barenaked Ladies and Matt Nathanson concert.
More than 16,000 fans packed Pine Knob for an incredible night of live music…and we didn’t have accessible seats.

I still remember explaining, “I have relied on my wheelchair for more than 24 years, so there is simply no way I would do that!”

At least, I didn’t think I would ever intentionally purchase concert tickets that weren’t wheelchair accessible.

Dan and I were sooo incredibly excited for the chance to see Train (one of our favorite bands) with Barenaked Ladies and Matt Nathanson at Pine Knob Music Theatre.

For as much as Train is one of our all-time favorite bands to see live—we’ve seen them more than 10 times in our 21 years of marriage—Pine Knob also is one of our favorite outdoor venues.

When ordering tickets online, I knew I needed to check the accessibility filters because, as the saying goes, this isn’t my first rodeo.

But mistakes happen.

It turns out that as I anxiously hurried through the Ticketmaster website to purchase our tickets, I apparently left the accessibility filter unchecked.

So when Dan, my caregiver Jen, and I headed to our seats that night, it seemed odd that they were way on the other side of the pavilion from where our accessible seats are normally located.

We soon discovered they were in Row YY—two steps down from the mezzanine.

Two steps may not sound like much, but when you rely on a wheelchair, two steps are enough to make a seat completely inaccessible.

I was shocked, disappointed, confused and, honestly, a little embarrassed.

“What? Our seats are where?” I asked.

Enter Devon, the compassionate and caring usher who was the first Pine Knob staff member I encountered.

That poor man. He knew I wasn’t mad at him. I was frustrated with myself and my somewhat rookie oversight.

“How could this happen?” I continued. “What are we going to do now?”

Devon offered to move me to an accessible seat in a different section. That solved one problem, but it created another: Dan and Jen would remain in Row YY and I’d be by myself.

No fun!

Jennifer with her caregiver Jen and husband Dan after Pine Knob staff found accessible seating for the three of them.
Together at last! Pine Knob staff found accessible seating that let the three of us enjoy the concert together.

I wasn’t pouting, per se, but Devon could see my disappointment. I did not want to enjoy this concert sitting far away from my people.

Thankfully, Devon didn’t make me feel like the problem. He made me feel like this was a problem he and his team could solve.

He talked with his fellow guest services coworkers Deanna and Allison. Together, they looked for a solution.

And they found one.

They moved us to accessible seating so I could enjoy the concert with Dan and Jen alongside more than 16,000 fellow fans.

Finally, we could enjoy the concert together.

That meant so much because my wheelchair shouldn’t isolate me from the people I’m with. In fact, my chair is what makes experiences like this—and my inclusion in them—possible.

Matt Nathanson sings while walking through the crowd at Pine Knob Music Theatre.
Matt Nathanson took his performance from the stage and into the crowd, and walked right behind us!

Matt Nathanson got the party going, Barenaked Ladies cranked up the energy, and BOOM! Train took the stage.

All seemed right with the world.

Because we were behind the accessible section, our view of the stage was sometimes obstructed, especially when the people in front of us stood to enjoy and dance to the music.

But we didn’t mind. Feeding off the energy and excitement of fellow fans is part of what makes live concerts exciting for Dan and me.

Dan, Jen and I were loving life and music.

Then, just when we thought the night couldn’t get any better, the couple sitting in front of us decided to leave about an hour before the show ended. They invited us to move forward into their unobstructed seats under the pavilion.

Such kindness, and such perfect timing.

About five minutes after they left, it started raining and our original seats got quite wet. This wouldn’t be such a big deal to most people, but this all changes when you use an electric power wheelchair.

Barenaked Ladies perform onstage at Pine Knob Music Theatre during their concert set.
Barenaked Ladies perform “If I Had $1,000,000” where we, as well as sellout crowd surrounding us, had no problem singing along.
Click the image to watch a clip from the concert.

The bands were vocally top-notch. The crowd was energized. The venue was filled with excitement and joy.

What began as an incredibly stressful and disappointing moment became one of the most memorable parts of the night.

Because that night reminded us that accessibility isn’t simply about ramps, elevators, designated seating, or checking the right box when buying a ticket.

Accessibility is also about people.

Train performs onstage under colorful lights at Pine Knob Music Theatre as large beach balls bounce above the crowd.
“Save Me, San Francisco” is always a highlight for Dan and me when we see Train live.
Click the image to watch a clip from the concert.

It’s about the people who recognize when something goes wrong and choose to help.

Devon, Deanna, and Allison turned a stressful situation into an experience we will remember for an entirely different reason. And then two strangers offered us kindness when we needed it most.

We went to Pine Knob to see Train, Barenaked Ladies, and Matt Nathanson.

We left with a pretty great reminder about community.

Sometimes community looks like friends or family. Sometimes it looks like a caregiver. And sometimes, it looks like a stranger or a group of people simply choosing to make room for someone else.

For that, we are incredibly grateful.

Train performs onstage under blue lights at Pine Knob Music Theatre, with lead singer Pat Monahan shown on the large video screen.
I honestly had given up hope that Train would play “Whipping Boy,” but they did! This song is one of my favorites. Back in the old days, people burned CDs for each other. This song was on the very first CD a special someone gave me. 😘
Click the image to watch the moment that made my night.

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