Post by Jonel on May 31, 2002 15:30:19 GMT -5
A song in their heart
Once homeless and without hope, the Men of Grace singers reclaim their lives
By Kimberly Hayes Taylor / The Detroit News
Saturday, March 30, 2002
To purchase CD
To get a copy of "Saved," the Men of Grace's debut album on CD or cassette tape, stop by the Grace Centers of Hope, 35 E. Huron in Pontiac, or call Marsha Lake at (248) 334-2187. Cost is $20 and is tax deductible. The center accepts cash, checks and credit cards. All proceeds benefit the Grace Centers of Hope programs.
PONTIAC -- For years, they were among the living dead, existing solely for a hit of heroine or crack cocaine. Everything they loved had been long gone -- wives, children, families and jobs. And for a time, they didn't care.
But eventually, they realized they needed help. Some had been getting high for 15 and 20 years, and they'd had enough. They had grown tired of living in abandoned houses and vacant buildings. They no longer wanted to sell drugs, cans or bottles for food.
Each one of the men found the help they needed at the Grace Centers of Hope, a faith-based homeless shelter and treatment facility in Pontiac.
Gregory Coles, 50, a one-time Motown musician, learned about the program from a prostitute who told him how to catch a bus to get there. Karl Gause, 46, a former Chrysler worker, took his fiancee there to kick her crack habit and eventually enrolled himself.
One by one, they managed their addictions and joined the Men of Grace, the facility's choir. They began singing about God's love. They piled in vans and traveled about Michigan and the country singing and testifying. Between songs, they told what the Lord has done for them, how he picked them up, cleaned them off and turned their lives around.
Then in October, the choir recorded its first album entitled Saved. Pepsi Co. sponsored the group and purchased its first 3,000 CDs. Singing a cappella, they were selected for a TCF National Bank commercial that began airing on TV networks this week. Suddenly, they're almost famous.
The Rev. Kent Clark, Grace Centers' CEO, who founded the group six years ago, calls this miraculous.
"When people hear Men of Grace, it ought to give tremendous hope," Clark says. "These are men who came from the dumpsters, from vacant houses, who came here with blistered lips from not wanting to put down the crack pipe."
"They were dirty and scrawny," Clark continues. "They came from the dark side of life into a literal new life in Christ. These are men who deserted their children and their families, brought from the dead. Look at where God lifted them. This is truly a resurrection."
The same men who couldn't hold jobs before, now come to rehearsal everyday. They sing their finger-snapping, toe-tapping songs at church services on Wednesday nights, Sunday mornings and Sunday evenings. Instead of holding signs announcing that they will work for food, they work for free.
They are like a family, laughing, crying and fighting together. The number of men in the choir varies. Right now, there are nine, but three weeks ago there were 10.
The men say they are united by a peace that surpasses understanding, that when you've lived the way they have and survive to tell about it, nothing much bothers you anymore.
Take Gregory Coles, for example.
At one time, the world was his oyster. He played for top Motown acts such as the Temptations and Stevie Wonder. He traveled around the world eight times playing bass for the Four Tops.
His musical ability emerged early, and by the time he started high school he had learned to play seven instruments, including the tuba, the upright bass, and the bass guitar. He studied at the prestigious Interlochen Center for the Arts, and even performed in France.
But while in high school, he also experimented with alcohol, marijuana and finally heroine. He drank cough medicine with codeine during lunch. His addiction continued while in the Army and at Wayne State University, and later, after joining the Four Tops crew, he kept a $200 bag of cocaine in his pocket to snort.
After more than a decade touring with the Tops, Coles became disillusioned. He thought he would be happy being on stage, making lots of money and having sex with groupies. But he was tired of getting drunk at night and throwing up all morning. After a show in Germany, he told the group that it would be his last.
Once homeless and without hope, the Men of Grace singers reclaim their lives
By Kimberly Hayes Taylor / The Detroit News
Saturday, March 30, 2002
To purchase CD
To get a copy of "Saved," the Men of Grace's debut album on CD or cassette tape, stop by the Grace Centers of Hope, 35 E. Huron in Pontiac, or call Marsha Lake at (248) 334-2187. Cost is $20 and is tax deductible. The center accepts cash, checks and credit cards. All proceeds benefit the Grace Centers of Hope programs.
PONTIAC -- For years, they were among the living dead, existing solely for a hit of heroine or crack cocaine. Everything they loved had been long gone -- wives, children, families and jobs. And for a time, they didn't care.
But eventually, they realized they needed help. Some had been getting high for 15 and 20 years, and they'd had enough. They had grown tired of living in abandoned houses and vacant buildings. They no longer wanted to sell drugs, cans or bottles for food.
Each one of the men found the help they needed at the Grace Centers of Hope, a faith-based homeless shelter and treatment facility in Pontiac.
Gregory Coles, 50, a one-time Motown musician, learned about the program from a prostitute who told him how to catch a bus to get there. Karl Gause, 46, a former Chrysler worker, took his fiancee there to kick her crack habit and eventually enrolled himself.
One by one, they managed their addictions and joined the Men of Grace, the facility's choir. They began singing about God's love. They piled in vans and traveled about Michigan and the country singing and testifying. Between songs, they told what the Lord has done for them, how he picked them up, cleaned them off and turned their lives around.
Then in October, the choir recorded its first album entitled Saved. Pepsi Co. sponsored the group and purchased its first 3,000 CDs. Singing a cappella, they were selected for a TCF National Bank commercial that began airing on TV networks this week. Suddenly, they're almost famous.
The Rev. Kent Clark, Grace Centers' CEO, who founded the group six years ago, calls this miraculous.
"When people hear Men of Grace, it ought to give tremendous hope," Clark says. "These are men who came from the dumpsters, from vacant houses, who came here with blistered lips from not wanting to put down the crack pipe."
"They were dirty and scrawny," Clark continues. "They came from the dark side of life into a literal new life in Christ. These are men who deserted their children and their families, brought from the dead. Look at where God lifted them. This is truly a resurrection."
The same men who couldn't hold jobs before, now come to rehearsal everyday. They sing their finger-snapping, toe-tapping songs at church services on Wednesday nights, Sunday mornings and Sunday evenings. Instead of holding signs announcing that they will work for food, they work for free.
They are like a family, laughing, crying and fighting together. The number of men in the choir varies. Right now, there are nine, but three weeks ago there were 10.
The men say they are united by a peace that surpasses understanding, that when you've lived the way they have and survive to tell about it, nothing much bothers you anymore.
Take Gregory Coles, for example.
At one time, the world was his oyster. He played for top Motown acts such as the Temptations and Stevie Wonder. He traveled around the world eight times playing bass for the Four Tops.
His musical ability emerged early, and by the time he started high school he had learned to play seven instruments, including the tuba, the upright bass, and the bass guitar. He studied at the prestigious Interlochen Center for the Arts, and even performed in France.
But while in high school, he also experimented with alcohol, marijuana and finally heroine. He drank cough medicine with codeine during lunch. His addiction continued while in the Army and at Wayne State University, and later, after joining the Four Tops crew, he kept a $200 bag of cocaine in his pocket to snort.
After more than a decade touring with the Tops, Coles became disillusioned. He thought he would be happy being on stage, making lots of money and having sex with groupies. But he was tired of getting drunk at night and throwing up all morning. After a show in Germany, he told the group that it would be his last.
