Saving Upright Piano - September 2, 2017
It wasn’t until I heard a show on CBC on upright pianos that I even thought about our old piano.
You need to know that the documentary on pianos was not a happy one. Most of these beloved centenarians (1900s babies) are ending up in the landfill site. Folks who had them, like my hubs and I, no longer have room for them in our seniors’ apartments. And our kids? If they are settled, chances are they have a keyboard (portable) piano – if one at all. And if they are job chasing? Why in the world would they want to tow a several hundred-pound castoff? http://www.cbc.ca/radio/thesundayedition/100-years-ago-canada-produced-beautiful-pianos-now-we-send-them-to-the-dump-1.3786271
I consider myself very lucky. I was one of those kids who not only had an upright piano in our home – a Heintzman, no less – my parents actually paid for us to have piano lessons. AND picked us up after our lessons. (Our piano teacher’s house was a short walk from our school.)
Neither my brother nor I were destined to be the next Glenn Gould, but I am very grateful for my music education. I know enough about music to know when the tune goes up, speeds up or slows down, and comes down again. Not a bad thing to know when you’re in a church choir. (No other choir would have me.)
My brother and I grew up and moved away from home and my parents no longer needed or wanted a piano, so they offered it to my brother and his family – and paid to have it delivered from Belleville to Mississauga. Not a bad deal. And ever the equitable and good parents that they were and are, they also wanted to buy one for my hubs and me and our kids. Deal!
I’m not sure how I located it, but I found one around the time we were moving within Sudbury. That would work. We could just pick it up en route. But how to assess this used piano for sale? No worries, there was a blind piano tuner in Sudbury – Barney – who would check it out for a nominal cost. (I am not making this us. Check out https://www.sudbury.com/local-news/man-of-surprising-talents-215460) Yes, so we bought a used piano, sight unseen, and had it delivered to our new home. And yes, Barney came – with his sighted driver – and tuned it. I think it was a Sherlock-Manning.
Anna took piano lessons for a few years and, I think, benefited from it. She went on to take guitar lessons too! Tommy took piano lessons for a few months and his teacher said to us, “You know, he’s really not interested.” But he was interested in a few guitar lessons. Carolyn, well, I don’t think we got around to getting piano lessons for her, but man-oh-man can that girl sing! And Elaine. Well, I think we got as far as sitting her infant seat on the piano bench while we got the other kids ready to get out the door for church. And – thank you St. Andrews United Church – all of our kids were in choir.
But then, wouldn’t you know it, our kids too moved away, and there sat our upright. In the spring of 2014, I decided to “Sherlock” a home for our “little Manning.” I put an ad in kijiji with a picture and a reasonable price and waited for the phone to ring off the hook. Not a call, not even a dingle. Then I put an ad in that read “free to a good home but you must come and get it.” I got one call from a woman who was willing to take it off our hands if we were willing to deliver it. Sigh!
And then a miracle happened. The pastor from the Chinese Missionary Church was willing to give our beloved piano a very good home AND he would hire movers to transport it. PTL! We were thrilled. Me, because I had anthropomorphized our piano – “Piano-y”, and couldn’t bear to see him end up in the landfill site. Laur, because he didn’t have to move it, and he had Chinese-missionary grand and great grand parents.
Two lads showed up to move our piano. They were not prepared for the weight of it, or the challenge of moving it down a flight of front steps. Thankfully, our son Tom and two of his friends were at our house – and they were in their weight-lifting phase of being young men. The five of them managed to get the piano into the truck. How the two lads then managed to get the piano into the church, I have no idea. Here is hoping that the Holy Spirit that hovers over the waters also hovers over the streets of downtown Sudbury.
The story doesn’t quite end there. No, it does not. One Sunday in the summer of 2014, when my church – All Peoples United – was taking her well deserved summer holidays, I decided to attend a service at the Chinese Missionary Church. I wanted to see and hear Piano-y in action.
I arrived at the proper time, only to learn that I was the only only-English-speaking person in the congregation. This meant that every sentence had to be translated from Mandarin into English. The leaders of service and the pastor were very gracious about it. Though when it was hymn singing time, one could sing in the language of one’s choice – or, in my case, the only language I knew.
Having me there added at least another hour to the service. And that might not have been such a bad thing, except this was a day when they were having a church community potluck lunch. The aromas coming up from the downstairs were delightful. I do not know how the kitchen ladies managed to keep the entrees from burning or drying out – or if they were able to.
I never did see “our” piano in action. It was downstairs in the combined Sunday school and dining room area – the two were used interchangeably. I was warmly invited to join them for lunch, but I declined. They were also having a Vacation Bible School presentation – and the thought of them having to do an English as well as a Chinese version of it was enough to make me vacate…
You need to know that the documentary on pianos was not a happy one. Most of these beloved centenarians (1900s babies) are ending up in the landfill site. Folks who had them, like my hubs and I, no longer have room for them in our seniors’ apartments. And our kids? If they are settled, chances are they have a keyboard (portable) piano – if one at all. And if they are job chasing? Why in the world would they want to tow a several hundred-pound castoff? http://www.cbc.ca/radio/thesundayedition/100-years-ago-canada-produced-beautiful-pianos-now-we-send-them-to-the-dump-1.3786271
I consider myself very lucky. I was one of those kids who not only had an upright piano in our home – a Heintzman, no less – my parents actually paid for us to have piano lessons. AND picked us up after our lessons. (Our piano teacher’s house was a short walk from our school.)
Neither my brother nor I were destined to be the next Glenn Gould, but I am very grateful for my music education. I know enough about music to know when the tune goes up, speeds up or slows down, and comes down again. Not a bad thing to know when you’re in a church choir. (No other choir would have me.)
My brother and I grew up and moved away from home and my parents no longer needed or wanted a piano, so they offered it to my brother and his family – and paid to have it delivered from Belleville to Mississauga. Not a bad deal. And ever the equitable and good parents that they were and are, they also wanted to buy one for my hubs and me and our kids. Deal!
I’m not sure how I located it, but I found one around the time we were moving within Sudbury. That would work. We could just pick it up en route. But how to assess this used piano for sale? No worries, there was a blind piano tuner in Sudbury – Barney – who would check it out for a nominal cost. (I am not making this us. Check out https://www.sudbury.com/local-news/man-of-surprising-talents-215460) Yes, so we bought a used piano, sight unseen, and had it delivered to our new home. And yes, Barney came – with his sighted driver – and tuned it. I think it was a Sherlock-Manning.
Anna took piano lessons for a few years and, I think, benefited from it. She went on to take guitar lessons too! Tommy took piano lessons for a few months and his teacher said to us, “You know, he’s really not interested.” But he was interested in a few guitar lessons. Carolyn, well, I don’t think we got around to getting piano lessons for her, but man-oh-man can that girl sing! And Elaine. Well, I think we got as far as sitting her infant seat on the piano bench while we got the other kids ready to get out the door for church. And – thank you St. Andrews United Church – all of our kids were in choir.
But then, wouldn’t you know it, our kids too moved away, and there sat our upright. In the spring of 2014, I decided to “Sherlock” a home for our “little Manning.” I put an ad in kijiji with a picture and a reasonable price and waited for the phone to ring off the hook. Not a call, not even a dingle. Then I put an ad in that read “free to a good home but you must come and get it.” I got one call from a woman who was willing to take it off our hands if we were willing to deliver it. Sigh!
And then a miracle happened. The pastor from the Chinese Missionary Church was willing to give our beloved piano a very good home AND he would hire movers to transport it. PTL! We were thrilled. Me, because I had anthropomorphized our piano – “Piano-y”, and couldn’t bear to see him end up in the landfill site. Laur, because he didn’t have to move it, and he had Chinese-missionary grand and great grand parents.
Two lads showed up to move our piano. They were not prepared for the weight of it, or the challenge of moving it down a flight of front steps. Thankfully, our son Tom and two of his friends were at our house – and they were in their weight-lifting phase of being young men. The five of them managed to get the piano into the truck. How the two lads then managed to get the piano into the church, I have no idea. Here is hoping that the Holy Spirit that hovers over the waters also hovers over the streets of downtown Sudbury.
The story doesn’t quite end there. No, it does not. One Sunday in the summer of 2014, when my church – All Peoples United – was taking her well deserved summer holidays, I decided to attend a service at the Chinese Missionary Church. I wanted to see and hear Piano-y in action.
I arrived at the proper time, only to learn that I was the only only-English-speaking person in the congregation. This meant that every sentence had to be translated from Mandarin into English. The leaders of service and the pastor were very gracious about it. Though when it was hymn singing time, one could sing in the language of one’s choice – or, in my case, the only language I knew.
Having me there added at least another hour to the service. And that might not have been such a bad thing, except this was a day when they were having a church community potluck lunch. The aromas coming up from the downstairs were delightful. I do not know how the kitchen ladies managed to keep the entrees from burning or drying out – or if they were able to.
I never did see “our” piano in action. It was downstairs in the combined Sunday school and dining room area – the two were used interchangeably. I was warmly invited to join them for lunch, but I declined. They were also having a Vacation Bible School presentation – and the thought of them having to do an English as well as a Chinese version of it was enough to make me vacate…