This is my family. The handsome gentleman on the far left is my great grandfather, Donald, with the violin that was left to me. Next is my great aunt, Dorothy with her ukulele. My great aunt Aileen is with her mandolin, and the tall fellow is my grandfather, Harold, with his guitar. They called themselves The Fireside Band. It seems very odd to look at this photo and then look at the violin that I now call my own. History in my hands. I would have loved to have seen them play. I can imagine my grandfather with his animated face strutting around on the stage making a new face as he plucked each guitar string. I miss him terribly. I would have loved to sit with him and listen to him tell stories about his band. He was the most amazing story teller. He had a way of dragging you into a story, whether you wanted to go or not. And then when it was over you would beg for more. He was so genuine when he spoke. I think that's one of the reasons why he was such a great preacher. People loved him. He had a way of making everyone feel special and completely loved. He was a good man. I can only imagine what my great grandfather was like. I've heard stories that he sold his prize cow and calf for the violin. And that his most famous piece was a song about a train. The violin hasn't been played since 1963. For 40 years, it's been silent. It's being restored to playable condition right now. I plan on taking lessons and hopefully breathing new life into it. I want to pass more stories with the violin. Perhaps I'll include a picture of myself playing it for the future generations.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004 | 3:39 PM | LINK |