If you walk along the riverfront in downtown Reno on a sunny afternoon, you might hear the gentle strum of a banjo floating through the air. Follow the sound, and you’re likely to find Robert Biggs — 76 years old, with a twinkle in his eye and a lifetime of stories tucked between the verses of the folk songs he plays for strangers and wildlife alike.
“I used to play from Wingfield Park to Caughlin Park, but as I get older, I travel a little less,” Biggs says. “Wingfield Park is closed due to construction, so I usually just go to Idlewild. When I’m there, I like to sit on the shore of one of the lakes. The ducks and geese, they are like my buddies. I could have 20-30 hatchlings come over and listen to the banjo man. They grow up hearing the banjo man. It’s like they do these swim-byes in formation to say hi.”
He laughs and jokes that he’s like a grandpa to generations of wildlife fowl at Idlewild – Grandpa Wabbit as some have learned to lovingly call him.
That may sound eccentric enough, but given Biggs is still playing the banjo, is another wild story. When Biggs was working on a northern California ranch in 1983, a bull snuck up behind him, charged, and sent him flying through the air. He used his hands to break his fall and broke all 10 fingers. His hands recovered but the accident made it tough to play the banjo, so he gave it up for years. In the injury aftermath, he did teach himself how to type. That led him to a career in Silicon Valley, working on projects for both Microsoft and Apple.
Biggs said 12 years ago he moved to the Truckee Meadows to be closer to family. And it wasn’t until a few years ago that he picked up his beloved banjo again.
“About five years ago, I said ‘I’m going to start to play again.’ Still, not all my fingers worked correctly, but I watched a video and saw a guy playing with his busted-up fingers. I figured if he can play, then I can play. Now I play good enough people would never guess I had to re-teach myself.
“Some days, I wake up and my thumbs feel like somebody has been whacking them with a hammer all night. And sometimes, all my fingers can dislocate and that’s very painful. I never know what’s going to happen.”
And yet, Biggs/Grandpa Wabbit chugs along, playing for passersby to enjoy and engage. So, why the banjo? Why the affinity for the unique, stringed instrument he learned from his grandpa in the South at a young age?
“The banjo is an instrument that was played by African American slaves,” Biggs says. “The banjo was their way of experiencing joy and telling stories in song. To me, the banjo is a connection to America - the dirt, the sweat of hard-working people. To me, it’s just got a very special sound that has so much meaning. I notice when I’m out playing in public, people walking by, their eyes immediately light up. People start skipping down the sidewalk. The banjo starts talking to peoples’ soul[s].”
So, if you ever catch the sound of a banjo drifting through the trees at Idlewild, stop and listen. It’s not just music - it’s a life well-lived, echoing through the strings of a man who’s always chasing another connection.