Drummer to stick to teaching despite homelessness

A box of popcorn, a can of tomato soup and a box of Frosted Flakes are stacked near a microwave next to his drum set.

All he wants to do is teach people how to play music.

“I want to talk to kids about music and life and how they relate,” St. John said. “Life is music.”

He’s in danger of losing his South Commerce Street home this week as the antique store he shares space with goes out of business. St. John will have to come up with creative ways to store his thousands of dollars’ worth of drumming equipment while continuing to teach.

But this won’t be the first time the 58-year-old has been homeless.

A few years ago, St. John worked for a temp agency, making enough money for a downtown Las Vegas apartment and a car. But there wasn’t enough for a down payment on musical instruments. So he cut. Everything. He slept in a sleeping bag under a tree in a park off Charleston Boulevard and went to work every day. He washed up in a nearby coffee shop.

He kept photos of the items in his wallet as a reminder of his goals.

“It’s what kept me alive when I was homeless,” he said.

The conversation becomes more emotional as he chats about life in a New York orphanage after suffering physical abuse at the hands of his biological mother. His fingertips trace along a 1-inch scar on the side of his head.

“Frying pan,” he said.

He explains that she was a young mother who didn’t know how to handle children. He flinches as the words tumble out of his mouth.

It was at the orphanage that he met adults who treated him kindly. Bad behavior meant going to bed with no milk and cookies, no “Batman” TV show and being assigned a book report from the most recent issue of National Geographic — a far cry from the beatings he endured at home in his younger years. Photos of a young St. John reveal a happier childhood, being raised by sisters with large “flying nun” hats.

Tales follow of turning 18, leaving the orphanage and traveling across the country, playing with bands along the way. Rather than just talking about technique, he slides behind his expensive white drum set, grips a pair of drumsticks and starts whaling away. Jazz , Latin , rock , R&B.

He said he played with Lynyrd Skynyrd and filled in at practice gigs with Smokey Robinson and Celine Dion. He’s played with casino bands. He also played with the Area 51 Experience. He knows Johnny Mathis and has a reference letter signed by his sister-in-law, Irene Mathis. When reached by phone, Irene Mathis confirmed that she wrote the letter and sang the drummer’s praises as being “incredibly gifted and talented.”

When St. John plays, his face relaxes. He mouths the count or the lyrics. His head gently sways with the beat. With arms drumming and legs pumping pedals, he truly is in his own element. The abuse. The homelessness. The sad stories everything seems to fade away. He doesn’t just know the notes, he chats about the history of the drums and why certain beats exist.

He has taught several students and conducted clinics throughout the city. He’s scrambling to find a space in the library to set up and continue teaching his current students while trying to attract more. It’s $30 for an hour and $20 for a half-hour. St. John said he feels guilty charging more.

Ryan Giles signed up his 6-year-old daughter Lana for lessons with St. John in February. Her feet can’t reach the pedals, but they’re working on arm and hand rhythms.

“She enjoys her lessons way more than practicing the drums at home,” Giles said. “She’s way more focused and engaged with him than when I’m trying to get her to sit there and do the same things.”

Giles said he’ll continue to pay for his daughter’s lessons even if her teacher loses his classroom.

The uncertainty of living on the streets again is never far from St. John’s mind, but wherever he ends up, drumming lessons are sure to follow.

Contact Paradise/Downtown and North Las Vegas View reporter Kristi Jourdan at kjourdan@viewnews.com or 383-0492.