When David Jones first walked into Church Health as an intern in the summer of 2020, he thought he was just passing through. Fresh off his sophomore year at Rhodes College, Jones spent his free time making music and was simply looking for professional experience. A three-month stint. A line on a résumé. An opportunity. Nothing more.
But Church Health had other plans.
What started as an internship evolved into something deeper—a sense of belonging, a discovery of purpose. He found himself not just behind a desk, but in the heartbeat of something alive. A mission. A family. A calling. And somewhere in the rhythm of referrals and rotations, he found his own.
Though medicine ran in Jones’ family—his sister had paved the way as a physician—it was through Church Health that he caught his first glimpse of what care really meant. Not the kind learned from textbooks, but the kind lived in real rooms with real people.
One day in the orthopedic clinic, that truth hit him in the most unexpected way.
A patient, trembling at the thought of a needle, sat in the exam room. Jones was called in, unaware of what was unfolding. The doctor, calm and a little mischievous, asked him to play a song he’d recently made. Confused, he complied. The patient, distracted by the music, began to smile. Her shoulders eased. Her eyes lit up.
And in the midst of their exchange over melody and lyrics, the doctor gently administered the injection—completely unnoticed.
When the patient finally realized the procedure was over, her surprise turned into laughter. But for Jones, something clicked. In that moment, music became medicine. Distraction became healing. Connection became care.
From that point forward, he knew—this was what he wanted. Not just to study medicine, but to live it this way: where humanity comes first, and healing means meeting people exactly where they are.
“Not just to study medicine, but to live it this way: where humanity comes first, and healing means meeting people exactly where they are.” — David Jones
His scholar year at Church Health became a training ground—for clinical practice, for listening, for speaking with compassion, for meeting people across barriers of fear, language, and uncertainty. He didn’t just learn to treat; he learned to relate.
Now, even as a medical student, with the weight of coursework and the grind of training, he still returns. To volunteer. To serve. To give back to the place that gave him so much.
Once asked where he saw himself in 15 years, Jones didn’t know the specialty. But he knew the place—Church Health. That answer has never changed.
Because Church Health isn’t just a clinic. It’s a community. A teacher. A sanctuary.
And sometimes, it’s a place where healing begins with a song.