One afternoon, Alec pointed toward his CD player (he still couldn’t talk) and pulled out his favorite Boston Pops CD.

On his own, he found track number four — Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Dance of the Tumblers” — and pushed play. Alec lay back in his bed, put his arms behind his head, closed his eyes and began to hum.

After weeks of simple, monosyllabic communication, Alec was humming a complex, classical tune in perfect unison with the disc. Despite his memory loss and physical handicaps, the music, his mother says, was still inside him.

“That was the first time I knew it was all there,” she said. “Everything he knew was somewhere in his head, we just needed to get it out. For the first time, I knew he was going to be OK.”

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