How funeral singer went from 'unto death' to renewed faith

Anita NiNi Wells has been singing at funerals since she was a kid — she thinks she's performed at hundreds of them. When she was hospitalized in 2013 for a noncancerous cyst, she thought about her own ending.

“I was giving up,” said Wells, 47. “Feeling like ‘I’m in so much pain, I don’t want to live.’ ”

She underwent several surgeries and was hospitalized for nearly two months. She says her faith helped her through her recovery.

“Thank God for a lot of my friends who are ministers or just Christian and they came to the hospital, they prayed for me. By the time that prayer took place, I was a changed person. Like, ‘Honestly God, I do think I want to go on a little longer, I was just talking crazy — so thank you for bringing me back.’ ”

Before her hospitalizations, Wells was pursuing a music career and says she was ignoring a calling to become a Baptist minister. After she got out of the hospital, she took the steps to do just that. 

Wells has been able to merge her spiritual path with her passion for music. Every Sunday she sings at Church-in-the-Garden — a Baptist church in Garden City. She also offers her services at Ebenezer House of Deliverance in her native Brooklyn.

'Sending them off in style'

When Wells is asked to sing at a funeral, she meets with the family to find out what kind of music they want to represent their loved one. As a minister, she often delivers eulogies, as well.

“Really, a funeral is for the audience,” Wells said. “People always think it’s for the last time we’re going to see them on earth and things like that. But it’s for those that are lost, that need to find hope and direction.”

She added it’s not about picking the songs that are going to make people cry, but finding music that contains a message of hope. In Baptist tradition, Wells says the final song at a funeral is upbeat, often with shouting, foot-stomping and clapping.

“We believe in homegoing,” she said. “Sending them off in style… because we know where they’re going. They have an expected ‘in.’ So we’re going out uplifting; we don’t want to be sad and solemn.”

Wells says music can be essential while coping with loss. She feels it’s only after a funeral takes place that mourners can truly reflect on their emotions and memories. The music can fill a void.

“At the service, people are watching you,” she said. “So you’re grieving and you have your moment, but you also have to process everything that has just happened. It’s still some kind of numbness there.

“I think when people leave, they’re looking for something to maintain. To continue that spiritual upliftment. It’s great that if they heard the song at the funeral, they can go home and YouTube it, Spotify, all these different ways you can download and listen to music.”

Feet stomping, tambourine slapping

On a recent Sunday morning at Church-in-the-Garden, Wells rehearsed before the worship service with her “sisters and brothers.” The church’s five-person choir piled into a small rehearsal room with some folding chairs and a piano in the corner. About 20 minutes before the choir stepped onto the pulpit, the room was filled with the sounds of feet stomping and the beat of a tambourine, as a bag of Ricola was passed around.

Wells sat up straight as she looked over handwritten notes in the margins of her music. She would be singing a duet that morning, “You Know My Name,” with Justin Mensah, the youngest member of the choir. As she rehearsed, her voice was sweet but strong; she hit high notes with ease and low notes with power.

“Music is a big part of the service because people can feel love and they can feel healing,” she said. “Sometimes people come in with all kinds of issues that we are all not aware of, except in the spirit God reveals it to us. So they come to be uplifted; they’re looking for something.”

During the service, Wells belted out an upbeat tune with a smile from ear to ear, “Victory is Mine.” She clapped and swayed along with her choir. On most days, she heads back to Brooklyn afterward, where she leads members of another congregation on their spiritual journey at Ebenezer House of Deliverance.

Wells is happy that she finally accepted her calling.

“I kept running but I finally said, ‘OK God, I get it.’ Because the way I felt, like I was unto death, honestly. Unto death. And He really resurrected my life.”

By Rachel Weiss

rachel.weiss@newsday.com@RachMWeiss

Rachel Weiss joined Newsday in 2016. As a real estate/living multimedia reporter, Rachel writes feature stories and contributes to and appears in on-camera video packages. She was the lead reporter on Newsday’s LI Acts of Kindness series.