Before we go inside, viola da gamba player Carolyn Surrick touches my arm. With serious eyes and concern in her voice, she lays out the facts: Most of the people I’m about to see have been injured horribly. On some, the scars will be invisible; on others, all too visible.
Her message is implicit: Don’t freak out. She tells me this not for my benefit but for the benefit of her audience, the residents of Walter Reed’s Mologne House, where she and sister Ensemble...