Oct. 21 was the day Kathy Thomas found her husband, Jeff, face down in a box of wigs.
“I dropped dead, literally,” Jeff Thomas says.
The couple now separate their lives into before and after that day, when Jeff Thomas suffered a heart attack — “the kind they call ‘the widow maker’ because you just drop,” he says. His “incredulous” cardiologist calls him a “miracle man.”
There are expected reasons, such as medical care, why Jeff is still alive, though Kathy’s determination and the love from of a wide circle of friends certainly play a part, too.
“There was this kind of mass energy,” Kathy says of the well wishes that came Jeff’s way.
An unexpected reason Jeff is alive today: the COVID-19 shutdown.
It was the shutdown that led the Thomases, both musicians, to don silly wigs and play daily duets on Facebook Live to entertain stir-crazy friends, a project detailed in the Orlando Sentinel and other media outlets last year.
But the shutdown also meant Kathy was home when Jeff collapsed; normally, she would have been somewhere between her teaching job at Stetson University in DeLand and rehearsal with the Bach Festival Orchestra in Winter Park.
“Thank God for COVID,” Kathy says.
The pair, married for 15 years, finished up their year of lighthearted online performances last week — with a new appreciation for life and love.
“It started out as way to help other people get through something,” Jeff says of their video series. “It ended up being our salvation.”
‘Silly and spontaneous’
Jeff plays trombone, Kathy plays French horn. Both perform with the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra, where Jeff is a founding member and principal trombonist, as well as with the Bach Festival Society of Winter Park and at Walt Disney World, where in a typical year they play in every performance of Epcot’s Candlelight Processional. Like Kathy, Jeff also teaches; he’s an adjunct professor at Rollins College.
When the world shut down in 2020, Kathy could see her friends were “going crazy.” And with arts organizations and theme parks closed, the couple had time on their hands.
“Let’s tell everybody to stop ‘wigging out,'” she thought, by dressing up and playing music online — a kind of mental-health break.
“We had some costumes around … with six kids and Halloween,” she says.
Their first performance was an Irish drinking song called “10 Green Bottles” in honor of St. Patrick’s Day.
The videos were short, often themed to a special event, and deliberately not perfect — often performed after one practice run.
“We weren’t embarrassed about a missed note,” says Kathy, 50. “It was supposed to be silly and fun.”
Their ever-growing audience — some nights more than 1,000 viewers tuned in — enjoyed the silliness, especially Jeff’s get-ups.
“The liked it when Jeff looked naked or like he was cross-dressing,” Kathy says.
“I was like Bugs Bunny in a wig,” Jeff cracks.
They were planning their next video the evening of Oct. 21. The music was chosen — the theme from “Back to the Future” — and Jeff went to assemble a costume that would call to mind the movie’s Doc Brown. Kathy found him shortly thereafter slumped in their wig box.
“I was like, ‘What are you doing?'” she recalls. “There was no response.”
‘A genetic thing’
Kathy jumped into action: 911, chest compressions, wrangling the family dog, unlocking the door for the EMTs. She beat the ambulance to the hospital. And she wondered how this could have happened.
Jeff, 64, was in “fantastic shape,” he says. Already trim, he had lost weight during the shutdown, exercised regularly and took daily walks. They would later learn his arteries were 90-95% blocked. “It was a genetic thing,” he says. “I didn’t know.”
It was six minutes from the time Kathy called 911 until the EMTs arrived. That’s a long time to deprive the brain of oxygen.
“Did I save him so he could be a vegetable?” Kathy wondered as she tried to prepare the family for the worst.
At the hospital, staff put in a stent and lowered Jeff’s body temperature, a common treatment for oxygen deprivation. While he lay unconscious, it was a long week for Kathy until his eyes opened and “I saw him looking right at me.”
A nurse sent her home to rest, saying “If this is what it seems to be, you’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
Jeff’s first comment when he awoke: “Where’s my wife?”
‘Everything clicked’
Kathy would spend the next days, weeks, months by his side. At first, Jeff didn’t always understand what was going on, and his memories were confused. At times “he thought we were in a hotel and our horns were in the car for a gig,” Kathy recalls.
But Jeff’s music remained. He would hum along with the beeps of the medical equipment. When Kathy brought him sheet music, he could read it. And the trombone moves were still there.
“I didn’t forget my scales, my arpeggios,” Jeff says.
It wasn’t until Kathy took him home that “Everything clicked.” Reading a diary Kathy kept helped him understand what happened. And though there were minor annoyances — he couldn’t remember where anything went in the kitchen — within 48 hours he had picked up his trombone.
‘Will it ever come back?’
By early December, just weeks after the heart attack, Jeff and Kathy were back on Facebook Live. They started slow — simple Christmas carols.
Jeff was nervous. His facial muscles had been affected, making it physically difficult to play the instrument he first picked up at age 11. “There were times when I walked out of the room, just thinking ‘Will it ever come back?'”
With work, it did.
He rejoined the Bach Festival Society Orchestra for a holiday concert. In January, he started playing again with the Orlando Philharmonic. His fellow musicians offered support. They and other friends also provided financial help. Like many arts workers, because all their gigs are part time, the Thomases don’t have health insurance.
AdventHealth forgave a portion of the debt “so it didn’t bankrupt us,” Kathy says. Money from Disney, which paid them a portion of their usual Candlelight Processional earnings even though the show was canceled, also helped.
But they are most touched by an online fundraiser, at gofundme.com/jeff-thomas-recovery-fund, in which 325 people including Disney cast members, musicians, former Orlando Philharmonic officials and local arts leaders donated more than $42,000.
“It was unbelievably generous,” Jeff says.
“The road back was paved with friendship,” adds Kathy.
‘Not done yet’
Fans cheered — and marveled — at the return of the daily “wig out” Facebook videos.
For the Thomases it was a return to routine, something to look forward to — and the chance to finish out the yearlong run they had envisioned.
Their chosen song for the last video: “So Long, Farewell” from “The Sound of Music.” But they aren’t ready to say goodbye for good: Kathy wants to compile the duets they arranged for the video series into a book. They hope to perform them at nursing homes and senior housing when the pandemic subsides.
“We’ll be back,” she says.
However things play out, the two have a new appreciation for family, friends and the strength of their love.
“We knew we had a great partnership,” says Jeff. “I’m not sure we knew just how great until the chips were down. …
“I promised her I’d live to be 100,” he adds, while Kathy nods vigorously in affirmation. “So I’m not done yet.”
Follow me at facebook.com/matthew.j.palm, email me at mpalm@orlandosentinel.com or find me on Twitter @matt_on_arts. Want more news and reviews of theater and other arts? Go to OrlandoSentinel.com/arts
