The biggest Senior Citizen Day crowd witnessed a side of Jimmy Binkley never seen in his countless years of performing:


Raw emotion.




Raw emotion.

The beloved pianist and had to struggle to keep back tears as his semi-annual shindig - he throws one at Christmastime, too - surprised him with repeated gratitude.

During a brief break by a six-piece band of Binkley all-stars, former Peoria City Councilman Andre Bohannan, who has become a fixture at the events, offered a few words, comical and poignant.

"Jimmy was short when I met him, and he's still short," Bohannan said, triggering snickers from Binkley and the crowd. "But it's not about how tall he stands, but what he stands for."

A little later, each member of the singing trio Nine to Five, long a part of the parties, handed Binkley a rose, along with a reprinted news story about his work with seniors. Then they lilted through the Bill Gaither ballad "Old Friends." The simple lyrics - "Old friends, after all of these years, old friends" - grabbed Binkley, who started shaking his head, close to tears.

Right afterward, Binkley - who will talk and joke all day long about anything, other than himself - declined to reveal what got to him. He just shook his head more.

"I don't know why he was overwhelmed," said Phyllis Draper, one of the threesome. "He doesn't receive (praise and attention) as well as he gives it. Normally, he shakes off the emotion."

Still, a short time after the tune, Binkley was back to his usual jocular self, bouncing around, shaking hands and offering hugs. American Legion Post 979 was standing-room only, with more than 250 nursing-home visitors.

"It's a record!" Binkley yipped. "The fire marshal might be called in."

Otherwise, the matinee show - singing, dancing, joking - was just like others before it. How many? Well, Binkley says this was the 25th, though based on press clippings he'd overestimated the tally by a year. No big deal: Just as his age doesn't matter - no one knows but Jimmy - neither does the anniversary date of the party.

Rather, what's important is that the volunteer entertainment and helpers, along with the donated food and gifts, made for a delightful time for the shut-ins.

"I think he's a wonderful man - very entertaining," said Delores "Dee Dee" Rudolph, 85, a resident of OSF St. Claire Home.

Rudolph, a widow, said that in her younger days she would see Binkley perform in Peoria clubs.

"I could listen to him play the piano all day," she gushed with a grin.

Nearby, another resident of the home couldn't stay still. Annie Zick, who at 93 uses a wheelchair, nonetheless could not stay still when the music played. Smiling broadly, she used her feet to pull herself around the dance floor during "Roll Out the Barrel," prompting cheers from the throng.

Why is shy still spry? Her spirituality: She calls herself a "roamin' Catholic." Buh-dah-bump. Maybe she could do stand-up at the next party.

Hey, Jimmy Binkley needs all the help he can get. He gets older and the crowds get bigger, yet the smiles never seem to stop.
