The Piano

HEIRLOOM MEMORIES The Piano Jamie Griggs Tevis The fourth Sunday of each month, at the Doylesville Methodist Church, was all-day preaching and dinner on the ground. It was a small white church with a block for mounting horses and was surrounded by a whitewashed board fence. One mile from the Kentucky River, it rested on the edge of a rich river bottom where in summer one could stand and gaze over the green cornfields or, in the fall, acres of golden wheat. In the spring the hills were covered in pink and yellow wildflowers. The congregation was small but faithful. Several families like mine had moved away but returned every second and fourth Sunday to attend the services. After the sermon the ladies spread cloths on the tables under the shady elm tree in the side yard. In winter, my father Lloyd, and John Tracey brought in three long boards and placed them over the pews. From their baskets they brought out their food: slices of ham, fried chicken, green beans, biscuits, cakes and cookies with caramel icing, my mother's specialty. Miss Emma, who drove down from Richmond, often brought banana halves rolled in crushed peanuts, which were a delight to us children. In the summer she brought thermos jugs of fresh squeezed lemonade with ice. During the post-Depression days, before fast-food restaurants, this was the only time most people ate away from home, except for an occasional meal at the home of a relative or neighbor. Wick and his family who were on public relief, always ate with us. Some people went home as they felt they had nothing to share. Wick, a respected man in the community, lost his first wife and eyesight at about the same time. He managed to find Sally, a simple, dark-skinned Indian woman, to take care of him, married her, and brought to this all-white Southern congregation. This union produced Molly. One day when the preacher was not present a few people of the church called a meeting to discuss what they were going to do about this "black person" who had come to eat at their table. Jamie Griggs Tevis writes occasional columns for the Richmond (Kentucky) Register. She lives in Athens, Ohio. 31 A fourteen-year-old girl lingered to hear what they were saying. "Do you think there will be a special place in Heaven for you white people?" she asked. They were ashamed to continue and the meeting broke up and the little family became a part of the community. When my grandmother, Cora, entertained the preacher at her house for Sunday dinner, Wick ate at the first table with the men and Sally washed dishes in the kitchen. After the noon meal eight or ten women gathered in the choir pews and conducted their monthly church circle meeting. After singing a hymn and saying a prayer Stella led the business meeting. The men went outside, leaned against the fence and talked about their crops, the chances of rain, or whatever men talk about. The children ate the ice from Miss Emma's thermos jug, walked to the river to see if we could throw stones across it or watched boys swing from a grapevine swing and fall into the river. Young couples courted on the back seats of the church or in one of the few cars parked along the fence. Macy was the only trained piano player in the community and played for the regular services but when she wasn't present one of the other women played, but poorly. Even Macy couldn't make the rattly piano sound good. The most pressing problem discussed by the ladies was how to replace the piano. Miss Emma reported that she had checked around and found that Higgins's furniture store in Richmond had a good used piano for $25.00. Furthermore, he would allow them to run Saturday food sales in front of his store to raise the money. It was early summer and the time was right for them to bring in their produce from the farm: eggs, dressed chickens, vegetables, cakes, and pies. The conference was sending them a new...