The events of last weekend when I had the opportunity to participate in "An Athens Christmas" by playing on a 9-ft. Steinway concert grand with three other pianists, also playing beautiful Steinways, has caused me to reflect on my journey as a pianist to this point in my life. Perhaps this will only matter to me, but then again it might make a difference to some budding piano student somewhere or maybe even to one or two of my former students who wondered how they wound up in my living room counting out quarter notes and half notes and learning their lines and spaces.
My mom called Mrs. Ben Peck in Athens, AL when I was seven years old to sign me up for lessons. Mom came from a very musical family. Every one of "the Roses" sang or played instruments. She certainly wasn't going to let me break that tradition. So, there I began with the red John Thompson "Teaching Little Fingers to Play" book and was soon participating in group recitals at Christmas time (complete with cookies and punch) and public recitals at Athens College in the spring (complete with a formal dress and corsage). Something clicked for me. I somehow understood this new language, and I loved the sounds that resulted. Did I always want to practice the prescribed amount of time? Of course not! Before I could even tell time properly, mom would put a clock on the piano and say, "You can't get up until the big hand reaches this number." Later, I got out of many dishwashing sessions when mom would say, "I'll clean up the kitchen while you practice." In those days -- the mid '50's -- you made a commitment and stuck with it -- at least in my house.
In 1960, my family and I moved to Troy, AL, where I was promptly enrolled for lessons with Mrs. Violet Irvin, a member of the Troy State music faculty. She was probably already in her 70's when I met her, an eccentric lady with a mischievous glint in her eye. She was very mysterious to me with her wind chimes and incense, and she taught by sitting across the room from the piano and yelling "Murder!" whenever I missed a note. How in the world did she know from way over there??? Occasionally, I also took organ lessons from Mrs. Irvin, and it was a nice diversion, but the organ was never my heart language -- even though I have been called on to play it many times through my life.
Between the years of 1960 and 1968, my family and I lived for twenty months in Huntsville, AL (a story for another day). There I studied piano with Mr. Max Camp, a stern taskmaster with a very strict reputation. Although I often dreaded going to my lessons (mostly because of insufficient practice), Mr. Camp was very good for me musically. He helped me develop my technique and did much to show me how to get music off the page, not just correct notes and rhythm. He learned that my dream was to go to Samford University when I graduated from high school and immediately told me that I should plan to study with Mrs. Betty Sue Shepherd, the very best in his opinion. From that moment on, that became my goal.
We went back to Troy after that brief time in Huntsville, and my parents decided to contact Mr. Gene Jarvis, a music faculty member at Huntingdon College, to continue my music education. That meant that every Saturday morning my mom and I would drive to Montgomery, AL for my lessons. Yes, mom enjoyed shopping at the Montgomery Mall while we were there, but are you picking up on a theme here? The commitment and the sacrifices of my parents to my study of the piano. Wherever we were, they sought out the very best teachers for me. They faithfully got me to the lessons, they saw to it that I practiced, and they paid the price financially as well. Funny how I didn't always realize that back then.
Mr. Jarvis did a masterful job of preparing me for my auditions for the music school at Samford in the spring of 1968 and even required me to prepare a solo recital at the end of my senior year in high school. Thank you, Mr. Jarvis!!
I was accepted both to Samford AND to the School of Music AND I received a scholarship!! Yippee skippee!!! My college career began on June 10, 1968, only two weeks after high school graduation. I couldn't wait to get started.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Shepherd wasn't teaching during the summer term, so I ENDURED two other teachers during those weeks. When fall semester began, I finally got to meet Mrs. Shepherd, and we bonded immediately. I absolutely adored her. She was a teacher with unbelievable pianistic skills. She challenged me, corrected me, encouraged me, laughed with me, kept up with me, reprimanded me, all of the things that I needed the most at just the right time. She referred to me as "one of her majors" (meaning that I was majoring in piano), and I beamed. A goal she had for me was to enter and win a coveted spot in the annual Concerto-Aria Auditions, where piano and voice majors could solo with members of the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. My freshman year I worked hard but wasn't chosen, but my sophomore year, I made it!!! The picture below was taken by my brother (the family photographer, then very much an amateur) from the balcony while I was playing the 1st movement of Concerto No. 2, Op. 102 by Dmitri Shostakovich.
My years at Samford were outstanding, but lurking in the wings was a veterinary student at Auburn with the world's best smile. Yes, maybe we should have waited until he got out of vet school and I finished my degree at Samford, but that's not the choice we made. We were in love and wanted to get married, so off to Auburn I went with my new husband, a U-Haul full of wedding presents, a student loan, and a job playing the organ for the First Independent Methodist Church, making $15 a week.
I still had a senior recital to present and three quarters worth of credits to earn. The teacher to whom I was assigned was a chain-smoker who couldn't utter a sentence without a curse word. A culture shock that must have registered on the Richter Scale. I just kept working hard, practicing like crazy (on a donated upright piano in our 10' by 50' trailer on Wire Road), and keeping my eyes on the date of my recital and graduation.
I graduated in December of 1971 (the same day as Pat Sullivan), and Steve followed 2 quarters later.
We spent a year in Huntsville where Steve completed his preceptorship, then made our way to Hartselle where we lived for thirty years. As soon as we could afford someone besides me as the receptionist at Pearson Animal Hospital, I hung out my shingle as a piano teacher and began accepting students.
When we joined First Baptist Church of Hartselle, Miss Evelyn Howell was the pianist and did an excellent job. However, she came down with an illness from which she did not recover, and I was asked to take her place. I stayed on that bench until 1988. We left First Baptist for awhile -- another story for another day - and when we came back, there was a new pastor and his wife was the pianist. Lo and behold, she was a product of the Samford School of Music, too, so I could just sit back and enjoy . . . but not for long.
Ron Rainer, a fellow music student from Samford days, was at Central Baptist in Decatur, and their organist needed to take a leave of absence. He called to see if I could help, so I agreed to fill in for awhile. She decided not to come back, and I ended up staying on that bench until 2002.
Let me just fast-forward through a few things. I taught private piano in Hartselle for 13 years, then I went to UAH and got my music education degree. I taught public school music at Hartselle Junior High and Burleson Elementary for 8 years and another 5 years at Danville-Neel Elementary, before Steve and I moved to Ecuador. When we came back, I taught music and art at Priceville Elementary for 4 years before retiring in 2010.
We currently are members at First Baptist Church in Athens -- the same church where I was saved and baptized as an 8-year-old. Greg Glaze is the pianist-extraordinaire, and I get to be his substitute. Hopefully, a win-win for Greg, for me, and for Ryan Leffel, our minister of music. :)
That brings me to last weekend. Here, Greg and I are joined by Jane Barnett and Paul Hammond playing some wonderful multi-piano arrangements of several Christmas songs.
The same brother who made that picture back at Samford 40+ years ago was there to record our music. Here are a couple of YouTube links that you might enjoy.
http://youtu.be/cElUxO68ias
http://youtu.be/dnHV4Dd7oHU
Because of my mother's phone call to Mrs. Peck in 1957 and the music that God gave me the ability to understand and interpret, I have been blessed to interact with so many unforgettable people -- fellow choir members and instrumentalists, students, music ministers, etc. etc. Thank you, generous, loving Heavenly Father.
