Even casual acquaintances of Aashid Himons have heard his familiar expression, "One heart." Depending on the context, it's a greeting, an affirmation or a statement of belief that people are bound by a common heartbeat. As of two weeks ago, though, one healthy, functioning heart is what Himons needs to stay alive.
The towering Nashville reggae singer and blues musician has been in critical care at Baptist Hospital for more than a week, ever since he was admitted April 11 with a high fever. Doctors discovered that Himons suffers from a faulty mitral heart valve, which will have to be replaced. Compounding the medical danger, a systemic infection has delayed the life-saving surgery he needs.
According to Daryl Sanders, a close friend of Himons and a longtime observer of the local music scene, his condition is so serious that at one point doctors cautioned his family he might not live. On April 16, Himons suffered heart and respiratory failure, and he was kept on a respirator for two days. He was moved out of intensive care April 20 into critical care, but a mild stroke has reportedly affected the use of his arms.
The news has prompted an outpouring of concern from the singer's fans. For 25 years, Himons' room-filling frame and leonine mane of graying dreadlocks have made him an instantly recognizable figure around town. A one-time R&B vocalist who spent six years in Central America and played bottleneck blues on the streets of Seattle, Himons moved to Nashville in 1979.
The reggae group he started, Afrikan Dreamland, built a devoted Southeastern following from its Music City home base. At the height of their popularity, in the 1980s, they had a video on MTV and rivaled the White Animals as the Rock Block's biggest draw.
Himons issued a well-received solo LP, Mountain Soul, in 1998. He has also appeared in CMT videos and collaborated with space-music composers Tony Gerber and Giles Reaves, and apparently he has hundreds of unreleased recordings of all kinds at his home. Of late, though, he has been dogged by a number of health problems. Friends say that his recent troubles have left him concerned that his music will go unheard.
Even so, a steady stream of friends, family and admirers has passed through Himons' hospital room in the past week. Sanders, who has spent much time with Himons throughout the ordeal, says his spirits are improving. "The man is a giant," says Andy Van Roon, who, along with fellow Nashville filmmaker Greg Hallmark, is helping to organize support. "Even in his weakened condition, he's a lion."
If all goes well, recovery will still take several months. There is talk of producing a limited edition CD box set of Himons' recordings to offset his medical costs and his family's basic needs. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to Himons and sent to the AH Fund, P.O. Box 90313, Nashville, TN 37209.
