I went into my conversation with Randall Heidema of Holland expecting to meet a musician. But within the first five minutes, it became clear: Heidema isn’t just a musician—he’s a memory keeper, a spark plug, and a one-man joy machine with a guitar in his right hand and a songbook of 500 classics in the other.
Heidema’s story starts like many great musicians, performing across the country, from Nashville’s studio scene to cruise ships and piano bars. He eventually made his way back home to Holland in 2021. He took a break from music, unsure what came next. But a little over a year ago, he decided to return to his first love: entertaining.
Only this time, it wasn’t about making it commercially.
“I’ve always connected with the elderly,” Heidema told me, his voice warm and earnest.
“I just get them. Their stories, their humor, their strength.” So, he started booking senior living homes and memory care centers, one by one, building a community in the most musical way possible.
Today, he performs at 30 homes a month—six to eight shows a week. His sets are a medley of the Great American Song- book and beloved classics. Think “Fly Me to the Moon,” “My Girl,” “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Let It Be,” and “Ring of Fire.” Each song is more than a hit—it’s a time machine. The secret to his success? “You make them part of the experience,” he says. Every show is a sing- along, tailored to each crowd with familiar tunes, inside jokes, and personal touches.
He doesn’t just play for the audience—he plays with them.
Heidema’s approach is interactive and intimate. He takes requests, learns favorites, and remembers the little details that most would miss. He’s even gone as far as inviting willing participants to join him on stage. “It’s purposeful,” he says. “You really change their week. You see their faces light up and it means a lot.”
He told me a story that perfectly captured this magic.
There’s a woman at one of the homes he visits regularly who always tears up when he plays “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Last week, before he began the song, he paused. “This one’s for you,” he told her with a grin. The woman tapped the man next to her. He helped her up from her wheelchair, and together—slowly, sweetly—they danced for the entirety of the song.
“You really change their week,” said Heidema. “You see their faces light up and it means a lot”.
His performances don’t just uplift spirits—they stir something deeper. In memory care facilities, where attention is fragile and moments can slip away too fast, Heidema works even harder to connect. “It’s a challenge,” he admits. “You can lose them quickly, so you have to grab them fast with something they know—something from their childhood.”
At one of his recent memory care performances, a woman approached him afterward with tears in her eyes. “You don’t know what you just did here,” she said. She explained that she’d been visiting her moth- er at the home for four years—and had never seen such a widespread, joyful reaction from the residents. She pointed across the room. “See that lady in the corner? I’ve never seen her smile. You played, and she was smiling and singing for an hour.”
Heidema paused before wrapping up our conversation. “Everyone has their own unique story, and it’s neat when you’re playing a song and you can see that song affects the story of their life,” he said.
It’s not just about nostalgia. It’s about connection. About belonging. About feeling alive.
If you want to see Heidema in action— and feel a little of that magic yourself—he’s got a run of public shows this summer across West Michigan. Here’s where you can catch him:
UPCOMING PUBLIC PERFORMANCES:
July 9 – Annex, Saugatuck 9pm-1am
July 13 – Carlisle’s, Muskegon | 3–6 p.m.
July 16 – Annex, Saugatuck 9pm-1am
July 19 – Crane’s Orchard, Fennville | 1–4 p.m.
July 23 – Shepards Grill, Grand Rapids 7-9 p.m.
July 25 – Sandy Point, West Olive | 6–9 p.m.
July 26 – Butcher Block Social, Caledonia | 7:30–10:30 p.m.
Whether it’s “Sweet Caroline” or “Moon River,” Heidema doesn’t just play the hits— he brings people home. Home to a memory. Home to a feeling. Home to themselves.
And as long as he’s got a guitar, a piano, and a room full of hearts ready to sing, Ran- dall Heidema will keep doing what he does best: reminding us all that music, at its best, brings us together.
