Meet the U.K. native whose Memorial Day concerts have become a Twin Cities staple

Michelle Wessely grew up in the United Kingdom, but the St. Paul resident has plenty of patriotism for her adopted country.

Every Memorial Day weekend for nearly a decade, Wessely, a singer, has treated hundreds of mourners and visitors at Roselawn Cemetery in Roseville to a patriotic concert.

Sara Drinane accompanies Wessely on organ and piano, with the pair picking tunes from a compilation of 32 songs and hymns. Requests are welcome, but Wessely said she also loves belting out staples, from “The Star-Spangled Banner” to “Amazing Grace.”

A lyric in the latter song has special significance for Wessely:

“Was blind,” the song goes, “but now I see.”

Wessely endured something similar. In 2014, two weeks before giving birth to a daughter, doctors discovered Wessely had a brain tumor.

The mass, which pressed on her optic nerve, compromised her eyesight and required an intensive treatment course: three brain surgeries, radiation and a drumbeat of MRIs.

It took a toll on her family, too, and impacted her ability to work as a chiropractic radiologist, a job that requires sharp eyesight to read X-rays and MRIs.

For the past five years, though, Wessely has remained cancer-free — a fact that’s never lost on her during her Memorial Day shows.

“It’s been a real trial,” she said. “‘Amazing Grace’ is really something that hits me in the belly.”

Wessely performs in a historic chapel designed by Cass Gilbert, the renowned architect behind the Minnesota State Capitol. When she moved to Minnesota 17 years ago, she would often pass the little building while practicing driving on the right side of the road.

She wound up exploring it. A surprise awaited her in the chapel.

“The acoustics are so beautiful,” she said.

Over the years, Wessely’s concerts on Memorial Day, as well as July 4, have attracted a devoted following. Some attendees dress in head-to-toe patriotic regalia. Others make special requests, like the elderly neighbor who returns every year.

“There’s a piece of music he wants me to sing for his funeral, but he wanted to hear me sing it before it becomes his funeral, because then he won’t hear it,” she said.

But plenty of people don’t intend to hear Wessely sing at all. Rather, they flock to the cemetery to visit loved ones, only to explore the vaulted chapel and stumble into Wessely’s serenades.

If they’re visibly moved, that’s a job well done, she said.

“Some of them are laughing, some of them are crying, but we’re all together just listening to music and singing to it,” she said. “It’s really humbling to be able to sing each year.”