IT’S ALL ABOUT... The Piano Man
A new man came into my life today. He walked right up onto the porch carrying a black bag, through the front door and waltzed right over to the piano and sat down. Actually, he wasn’t just the piano man but the piano tuner and an interesting character named Patrick Griffin. We visited before he went to work about the old upright Haines Bros. piano. As we located the serial number on the piano and sourced his book of piano history, we determined the piano was built in 1917. “WOW, that’s older than my dad was, ‘cause he was built in 1922!” Pat replied, “that’s older than me too, I’m only 91!” Another WOW came out of my mouth.
Of the 105 years in existence, that antique piano has been with me for 66 years, moving from location to location, thus requiring tuning ever so many years. While writing another column for Suzanne’s Corner with my back turned away from the piano, it was a struggle to listen to the continual thumping of each piano key as the tuning hammer marched its way up the tuning pins. Since my degree from Centenary College is in music, a well-tuned instrument has always been imperative. This tuning day reminded me that each note has a specific frequency which must be achieved to be in tune; but alas before it’s in tune it creates a wave that makes your ears ache and skin crawl. For two hours my whole body got the chills as the “waves” resonated through the walls of the living room and down my spine! I wanted to walk out to free my ears, but endured the marching octaves of the scale as they began to settle into place. Finally, Pat was finished and began to play some old dance songs. Fabulous, we’re back in tune! What a difference a tuned instrument makes on your soul.
As Pat made his way to the front-door I asked if he had a few minutes to visit, he obliged and began to tell me about his life and how he decided to tune pianos as a profession. We exchanged stories for an hour with music as our common thread.
Pat said he was an Air Force veteran and I replied “so when did you initially enlist for WWII?” He said, “I’m not THAT OLD, it was for the Korean War!” Oops, my mistake! A good friend of his mother called to inform her, her son was on the draft list and they better figure out what he wanted to do before he got drafted. At the time, Pat had a Marine friend in Korea that had tangled with a round of bullets and decided that fighting was not for him but enlisted in 1950 as a trumpet player in the Air Force Band.
His first trumpet and band assignment in Michigan was at the Selfridge Base. He said the base was named after Lt. Etholen Selfridge, the first man killed in a “heavierthan-air flying machine”. From Michigan he was transferred to Okinawa to the Air Force Band. At the end of his four years, he decided not to “re-up” but to return to college. During his college years he landed a job playing in a night club in Hot Springs where he met, married his love and started the family.
Pat found himself working in a factory which he truly despised. Thus, at the age of 23 he moved the family back to his dad’s farm. While at home, Pat was offered a position back in the Air Force which was a rank above what he was when he left. He told his dad about the offer to be a Tech-Sergeant, but finished with “dad, I wouldn’t go back if they made me a General!” His dad puzzled by his answer told him you better think about that one. It sounded too good for a position like that to be offered to a KID that was only 23 years old.
Apparently neither factory work nor farm work held his interest and he re-enlisted and was sent to Barksdale Air Force Base. This time he could take his family and live in a house as opposed to the barracks. Laughing he told me how much he hated the “knuckle-heads” in the barracks so a separate house was quite a luxury!
From Barksdale in Shreveport, he was sent to Iceland without his family where he was stationed for eight months. This base was considered an “Agreed Area” and housed only 3,000 people. At any given time only 300 could be off base. Protocol was extremely strict. If you were off base, you had to be in uniform and off the streets by 10:00 pm. Pat’s job in the Iceland Air Force Band was to go out and meet and welcome the planes that landed with new soldiers.
He said at that time no black men were assigned to the Air Force. One of the planes came in with new recruits and one black man disembarked. A Sergeant hurriedly grabbed him and escorted him into a building, waited for the plane to be unloaded and then escorted him back onto the plane and sent him away when the plane took off. Pat said that was the only black man they saw the whole time he was in Iceland. Remember this was back in the early 1950’s.
From there he went back to Barksdale, then on to Band School in Washington, DC, then to Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska, then to Alaska and finally to Luke Air Force Base in Phoenix where he retired.
As a trumpeter moving from place to place and band to band there was always a piano that needed to be tuned; whether it was a paying job or a friend, Pat was always the tuner. In the olden days tuning was done with a single tuning fork and then by ear. Today however, tuners are lucky to have an electronic tuning aide.
At 91, Pat, the piano “tuner” man is still going strong. He drives himself, tunes pianos around East Texas and plays in three bands. A busy gentleman loving life, plays in the East Texas Jazz Orchestra (Tyler); Tyler Big Band and the Sounds of Swing (Carthage). He obviously doesn’t sit down very long. Right before he walked out the door, he proudly told me he’s been a professional piano tuner for 48 years. WOW, what a blessing filled my life today as I met a talented, interesting fellow who will keep me smiling as I sit down to a well-tuned old piano and play Billy Joel’s “Piano Man”!