The Amazing Story Of Canjoe John

That Nashville Sound doesn’t regularly share human interest stories, but this one written by J Brian Long, a freelance writer to the News Sentinel and Knoxnews.com was too fascinating and heartwarming to pass up. It’s a feature on a man building musical instruments out of sticks, cans and strings for sick kids and making (& fulfilling) a promise to one day play that instrument on the Grand Ole Opry. If you would like to help fund this wonderful charity called Tour Of Smiles, send any donations to The CanJoe Company attn Tour Of Smiles/ 2357 Feathers Chapel Rd./ Blountville, TN 37617/ 423-323-0174.

A stick, a string and a can.

These are the only things musician John L. VanArsdall says he needs to put smiles on the faces of area children who are suffering from chronic or terminal illnesses.

VanArsdall of Blountville in upper East Tennessee, fashions these three simple items into musical instruments he calls "canjoes." Donning a signature cowboy hat, he tours area children's hospitals as "Canjoe John," serenading patients in their hospital rooms, teaching them how to play canjoes, and then presenting them one of their very own. He calls his mostly self-funded, monthly project the "Tour of Smiles," and VanArsdall says it is one of the most rewarding things he has ever done.

"The canjoe is simple: 10 frets based on the diatonic scale, one string, a can, and a piece of wood," explains VanArsdall.


“Not too CANplex," he adds, grinning. "These kids can learn how to play a tune in minutes, and it can lead them to other instruments. I usually don't let them know they're going to receive a canjoe until the end of the lesson. It really blows their minds when I say: 'This one is yours.'"

VanArsdall became familiar with canjoes when, in 1990, he received one from his friend Herschel R. Brown, a building contractor in eastern North Carolina. "Herschel and I shared an interest in mountain dulcimers," says VanArsdall. "I would go visit him, and Herschel would show me his dulcimers that he made as a hobby. One day, Herschel invited me over to show me a new creation. I arrived at Herschel's shop, and he pulled down from a hook a funny-looking instrument he had just made from a slender-fretted stick, one string and a 12-ounce beverage can as its resonator. He then handed one to me and said: 'Here, son, take this cute little one-stringed dulcimer, I call it a "canjoe," and show them to people. They'll love them.' So, I took it and played it for some folks, and sure enough, they loved it. I came back to Herschel and told him: 'Herschel, I can CANmercialize these!' He gave me permission to make as many as I wanted, and for a while we worked together marketing them."

In 1994, VanArsdall and Brown went their separate ways in regard to the instrument, Brown concentrating on the mass production of do-it-yourself canjoe kits, while VanArsdall founded the Canjoe Company. He played at various music festivals, eventually evolving into a full-time entertainer while selling his own custom, handmade version of the instrument already assembled, stained, finished, signed, dated and ready to play.

Though he can also play the fiddle, dulcimer, harmonica, strumstick and guitar, VanArsdall says the canjoe holds a special place in his heart. He says that not only does the simple instrument invoke a sense of joy when he plays it for children in the hospitals he visits, it also was an important part of the relationship between he and his late wife, Paula, during the last months of her life. It is also the instrument that allowed him one of the most memorable experiences of his life: a performance at the Grand Ole Opry.

Paula died in 1995 of complications from kidney cancer. In the months before her death, she would often request that he play songs for her on the canjoe. "I played for her every day there toward the end," he says. " 'Play me this, play me that,' she would say, and so I would.

"As I kept playing, I kept improving, and she kept encouraging me.

"When I saw the joy it brought to her, I decided that I'd take the canjoe and do something good with it. I felt that there was something in this little thing more powerful than money. So I made a promise to Paula that I would play the canjoe at the Grand Old Opry one day, and I took it upon myself to prove to the world that the canjoe is more than just a stick, a string and a can."

In 2000, VanArsdall created his own radio show, "The Canjoe Old Time Radio Show," which showcased "old-time" country music on WPWT in Bristol, Tenn.

In 2001 he became a key member of the music committee for Bristol's first "Rhythm & Roots" music festival. VanArsdall also performed at that festival and met Roni Stoneman, former star of "Hee Haw."

VanArsdall played fiddle as part of Stoneman's band at the festival where he also met Stoneman's guitar picker, Jenni Chestnut. Jenni introduced VanArsdall to her husband, George Chestnut, of Nashville, a world-renowned master restorer of fiddles who had many connections with people associated with the Grand Ole Opry.

"I told George that I wanted to get on stage at the Grand Ole Opry, that I had promised my wife I would do it, and I desperately wanted to fulfill that promise." VanArsdall says. "I asked him how I could do it.

"He told me he knew Mike Snider (an Opry member and regular performer), and that he would see what he could do to make it happen. I was very hopeful and excited. I knew that playing at the Opry would get me the credibility I would need to make it easier to get into hospitals and begin my Tour of Smiles so I could do something really positive with the canjoe.

"And it happened. On Nov. 4, 2006, at the place where Hank stood, and Patsy Cline, I also stood and played my canjoe. It was one of the most amazing four minutes of my life, so far."

From there, VanArsdall began what he feels is his life's work.

"Immediately, I embarked on my Tour of Smiles," he says. "At first, I had a little bit of a difficult time. I would try to get into these hospitals and there was a lot of misunderstanding as to what my intentions were. I finally got in touch with Joanna Simeone at East Tennessee Children's Hospital in Knoxville. She was very willing to listen to me and was so supportive. I went to events like Camp Eagle's Nest, Camp Cure, and Jammin' in Your Jammies. The response from the kids was just great."

Simeone, public relations specialist at East Tennessee Children's Hospital, says the Tour of Smiles has been a blessing to patients. "When you are able to actually watch a child's spirits being lifted, it is a powerful, powerful thing," she says. "When I first got a call from this unique man that referred to himself as Canjoe John, I have to say that I had some apprehensions about what kind of 'music therapy' he could bring to our hospital with just a can on an old piece of barn wood with a string. Nevertheless, we talked for quite some time that first conversation, and I invited him to come on a guided tour of the hospital's inpatient floors. "What I saw that day convinced me that Canjoe John was more than a man with a silly instrument. This was a deeply caring human being, passionately called to bring smiles and warmth to children in need. Since that first visit, Canjoe John has handmade and distributed hundreds of canjoes."

VanArsdall has also completed volunteer courses to give his tour access to Niswonger Children's Hospital and Johnson City Medical Center in Johnson City, Indian Path Medical Center in Kingsport, and Norton Community Hospital in Norton, Va.

Whatever hospital he visits, his message is essentially the same.

"I build the canjoes for these kids out of rough sawn lumber," he says. "I do that because not only is it beautiful when it's finished, but it's also symbolic of these kids' diseases and illnesses. "Rough sawn lumber has natural defects and flaws, things about it that aren't 'perfect.' My point to these kids - and they understand it emphatically when I explain it to them - is that even though this instrument might have flaws and defects, that doesn't mean it should thrown away, right? It still works, it still has value. I tell them that just because their own bodies might also not be perfect, that no one is going to throw them away, either; their lives still have value as well, and no one is going to give up on them. And they get it. They understand. And they smile."