09/02/2026
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT!!
Jonathan Butler Brings the John E. Lawrence Summer Jazz Concert Series to a Joyful Close
80 degrees. Cumulus clouds. 4:30 p.m.
There are some concerts that begin when the artist walks onto the stage.
And then there are concerts that begin long before the first note is played.
Jonathan Butler’s appearance at the John E. Lawrence Summer Jazz Series in Ypsilanti was one of those concerts.
By 4:30, Jonathan Butler was already there, dressed in civilian clothes and moving through sound check while people gathered around. The crowd was arriving early, and there was an unmistakable feeling that something special was about to happen. The weather seemed to understand the assignment. No blazing sun. No oppressive humidity. Just partly cloudy skies, cumulus clouds overhead, and an easy, breezy coolness against the face.
Autumn had one foot in the door and one foot out the door.
And it was beautiful.
John E. Lawrence was already working the crowd, dressed entirely in black leather, from head to toe. He wasn't standing somewhere in the background waiting for the show to begin. He was out there talking to people, greeting them and making sure the evening felt like a community gathering rather than simply another concert.
That distinction matters.
By 5:41, I had myself a pulled chicken sandwich from JIMMA's, while DJ Big K was setting the musical tone. Erykah Badu's “Back in the Day” floated through the air, and the whole vibe was already fantastic.
"It was Friday night, and the mood was right for some summer Jazz," came the anthem to the JEL Series.
The crowd responded immediately. John E had put his foot in that one, as my daughter would say.
Everywhere I looked, there were little moments that made the evening feel personal.
A woman in all black, wearing a French-style straw hat, sat in the front row. She had that kind of presence where you don't have to ask whether she came to the show dressed for the occasion. When she showed up, she showed UP!
An old buddy of mine was there, he has the same morning routine I do. We go to the same gas station, we chit-chat about sports. I asked him what time he arrived.
“I… I…”
Then came the answer:
“I took the day off!”
That's how you know it was going to be a good night.
John McDonald, an old friend, had found himself a shady spot underneath the cottonwood and was absolutely doing it right. He brought Kim along, and Kim was wearing a full-on seersucker suit, looking every bit as fly as the occasion demanded.
Elsewhere, Matheu was there with their husband Albo and son, enjoying the beauty and joy of early parenting. They were in bliss. Beautiful.
And then, of course, there was the turkey leg.
Jonathan Butler had been asking about it from the beginning.
“I owe you a turkey leg.”
Then:
“Anybody got a turkey leg?”
And later:
“I KNOW there's a turkey running around here missin' ONE LEG.”
That became one of the night's running jokes.
When Butler finally took the stage, he immediately reminded everyone why he has been such a compelling performer for so many years. There was musicianship, certainly, but there was also storytelling. Butler has the rare ability to make a large audience feel like they're sitting around listening to an old friend tell a story.
He talked about his first experiences coming to America.
“I was in a three-piece suit.”
And then he told the story of the first phrase he learned in America:
“Yo momma.”
He explained that he had taken a taxi his first time here, and he didn't tip the driver, the taxi driver then turned around and gave him his first lesson in American vocabulary.
"Yo momma!"
The audience loved it.
Then Butler moved into Simply Red's “Holding On,” inviting the crowd to sing along.
“I keep…”
The crowd answered:
“Holding on…”
But midway through the performance, something happened that perfectly captured the spirit of the evening.
Butler needed a guitar string.
“Anybody have a string?”
John E. Lawrence took off toward the VIP RV to find one. Butler, however, didn't stop the show. He gave the string to his wife and continued performing without the guitar, letting his voice carry the moment while the band provided the musical foundation.
That wasn't a mistake interrupting the concert.
That was the concert.
It was improvisation, professionalism and trust all happening at once.
“I keep…”
And the audience, "Holding on...."
Butler eventually talked about happiness, partnership and the strength that comes from two people becoming one.
“So…”
“Hallelujah.”
Then Russell Gunn stepped forward.
The trumpet player took over the stage with a solo that temporarily changed the entire atmosphere. Personally, I'm a huge trumpet fan, so I was already locked in. Gunn didn't disappoint. His playing was powerful, expressive and commanding. For those moments, the trumpet became the voice of the evening.
By then, the temperature had dropped to around 70 degrees.
The sky moved from blue to yellow to orange, slowly giving up the final signs of summer.
Butler joked with the audience about getting older. His birthday was coming up, and he would be 65. Then he reminded us that these were old songs.
Songs many of us knew.
Songs like “Sarah, Sarah.”
The audience knew exactly what he meant.
There were families everywhere. Children running around. Parents handing them a few dollars for treats. One little girl, wrapped in a blanket, held up six fingers. Her father gave her six dollars, and she immediately ran toward Touch of Love.
Cookies were apparently more important than jazz.
She returned moments later smiling from ear to ear.
That's what made this night so much more than a performance.
It was life happening around the music.
Then Butler sang “Take Good Care of Me,” dedicating the song to the chef from Cuppies. He joked about nearly falling asleep after eating the famous Cuppies sould food. But said, he had to show UP for us.
And he did.
As the sun disappeared, the crowd became increasingly entranced.
Then came “Falling in Love with Jesus.”
Everything changed.
The conversations stopped. The crowd listened. People became still. Butler's voice carried something deeper than entertainment. It became testimony.
He talked about Jesus, about believing, and about how it was the best thing he had ever done.
My new-found friend Jonathan Butler hit that song just right.
Oh my.
Somewhere in the crowd, a man yelled:
“Come on, Jonathan!”
I felt that.
Then the lights began coming on. People waved their phones back and forth. And Butler stepped away from the stage. Seemed like he wanted to walk amongst the lights, amongst the people.
With the lights shining throughout the crowd, it almost looked like he was walking on air.
Then he began singing with everyone.
“Let Jesus rise.”
The crowd answered:
“Let Jesus rise…”
“His Lord.”
It was one of those moments you can't manufacture.
You can schedule a concert.
You can build a stage.
You can hire a great musician.
But you cannot manufacture that kind of communal feeling.
I noticed a young man in a black hat standing right in front of the stage, “air playing” every instrument like he had spent his entire life preparing for this exact night.
John E. Lawrence, meanwhile, was still doing what he had done all evening—connecting people. At one point, he stopped to take a picture with a family stage right.
The lights remained.
The smiles remained.
Roy Ayers' “Everybody Loves the Sunshine” came through the speakers.
It was almost too perfect.
Summer was already at our toes.
Another year had passed.
Another summer series had come and gone.
And another great time had been had.
But the final musical statement may have been the most appropriate of all.
“Ubuntu” was played by Jonathan to finish the night.
Ubuntu is a traditional Southern African philosophy often translated as “I am because we are.”
There was literally no better way to close not only this concert, but the entire summer series.
Because that is what the John E. Lawrence Summer Jazz Concert Series has been about.
Not simply the performers.
Not simply the music.
Not simply the food, the weather, the dancing, the laughter or the beautiful Michigan evenings.
It has been about people.
It has been about neighbors.
Friends.
Families.
Old friends reconnecting.
New friends being made.
Children chasing cookies.
Musicians improvising when strings break.
Trumpets soaring into the night.
And an entire community gathering together to celebrate the simple, extraordinary fact that we are here—and we are here together.
I am because we are.
What a night.
What a series.
What a summer.
Thank you, John E.
And thank you—YPSILANTI.
-S. Matias
Photography by Valerie Robinson
Master of Ceremonies: Bryan Foley
Staff Writer: Saul Gonzalez
Valerie RobinsonBryan Robert Foley
