Taking refuge under a barroom awning on Covington’s Columbia Street with the rat-atat-tat of pounding rain overhead, Hubert Cyprian battles back the blues of the dark dreary day with his clarinet.

Sitting on a black chair like he has for the past several years, the 30-year-old puckers his lips, puffs his cheeks and blows into the instrument that routinely turns his tears to joy, his fingers dancing along the shaft in harmony.

As usual, the notes flutter through the streets and typically land on the ears of passersby before the source, Cyprian, is ever even seen.

Hubert Cyprian plays the clarinet while sitting on the sidewalk of Columbia Street in Covington. The locals refer to him as '��the guy with the horn'�� who regularly graces their ears with sweet melodies. (Staff Photo by Matthew Penix)

He calls it his gift to the world.

But at times, he’d rather be known as an anonymous donor.

Now, though, the 1998 Covington High School graduate is finding anonymity a thing of the past. After 10 years of playing on Covington’s side streets, most recently on downtown Covington’s Columbia Street, Cyprian is finding himself a local celebrity of sorts.

He has no record deal, nor does he have a nightly gig in a thriving jazz band. But he’s got his clarinet and a contagious smile. And everybody seems to take notice.

“Everybody knows me as the guy with the horn,” he said. “Cops and sheriffs (office deputies) blare their horns. People are always stopping by. This is what I do.”

He’s come a long way.

Cyprian, who fell in love with the “soothing sounds” of the clarinet while in high school, garnered the nickname “Nervous” from his high school music band fraternity brothers after constantly pacing during practice, seemingly unsure of himself. It’s a trait that still holds true a decade later, he said.

Today, however, he’s emerging from his shell.

As his playing improved over the years, so did his confidence.

Cyprian soon shed his solo “gigs” outside Faith Bible Church further east on Columbia Street, where he’s a member, to the more populated blocks in downtown Covington. Now he loves playing the “Star Spangled Banner” or some New Orleans number for anyone who will listen. He’s gotten more used to the crowd. It’s how he eases his mind, he said.

“There’s something about the sounds of the clarinet that are so soothing,” he said. “When I’m feeling down, I hear the sounds from this thing, and I’m fine.”

And although he spent the better part of his adult days playing on area corners, Cyprian never sets out a hat, box or tin asking for a friendly donation. He plays for the love of music.

“A lot of people from New Orleans are on the Northshore now, and when they hear me playing they call me a lifesaver. They tell me how it reminds them of home,” he said outside the eatery where he also works as a bus boy and sometimes a food deliveryman to residents who all seem to know his name.

Others agree.

“It was a bit unusual at first,” said Brian Orgeron, a Covington resident who knows Hubert on a first name basis from listening to him for the past year or so. “But it added a bit of spice to the streets. It gives them that New Orleans flavor.”

The two have gotten to know each other so well Cyprian is teaching Orgeron how to play the flute.

Cyprian wouldn’t have it any other way. As a devout Christian and single man, Cyprian wants nothing more than to be a role model for children and other adults. He’s even trying to organize a Covington High School alumni band to play at homecomings and football games with high school students. He’s hoping anyone interested will call him at 773-3035.

And while he admits he’s no Mozart and can’t score a symphony at ease — sometimes he even stumbles over his own songs — Hubert hopes his notes will dance through the streets and influence whoever hears him. It’s a process years in the making.

Even though he’s just less than an hour away from New Orleans, where side street crooners are a way of life, Hubert said at first he caught flack from area residents. Then he improved, and so did the responses.

“They were like, ‘That’s aggravating. That’s annoying. Why are you doing that?’” he said. “But for everyone passing that said those things there was someone who said keep playing.”

The inspiration stuck with him. He continued to blow his clarinet, practicing daily for hours on end on the area’s street corners, he said.

“I kind of think of it like Alexander Graham Bell. People laughed at him at first for talking about the telephone, but now look at him,” Cyprian said.

“The message is no matter how strange people might think you look, if you love what you do, do it,” he said.

It’s this inspiration that Hubert’s high school band director Roy Mouton instilled in him a decade ago. Mouton, now deceased, taught him to be strong in the face of adversity, he said.

“I made him a promise that I would always keep his legacy going,” Cyprian said.

So Cyprian sits on the corner, sometimes nervous like his nickname suggests when people ask him to play a song he doesn’t know, but always confident he’ll one day learn its melody.

Meanwhile he’s seemed to capture the hearts of Covington’s downtown residents.

Pulling away in a white truck, one man rolled down the window and yelled for Cyprian to “come down one day and get a beer.” Another woman smiled and told Cyprian “hi” while walking by.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Anita,” Cyprian said, his busty cheeks fattening with a smile.

Looking on, Orgeron also grinned as he took a puff from his cigarette.

“If he could bring a little joy to someone’s life then I say, ‘Hell yea. Keep going,” Orgeron said.

With that, Cyprian picked back up his clarinet and stretched out his feet, licked his lips and brought the instrument to his mouth.

Music echoed from the corner for the next hour.

Despite his nickname, Cyprian no longer seems nervous.