I’m not sure what year this happened. All I remember was that I was very young, under ten years old, and it was summer, mid-day. The ice cream man was going through the neighborhood in his truck, ringing his bell. He traditionally made a run-through, circled the block, and returned, giving us children time to go inside and ask our mothers for money. It was a beautiful summer’s day, not too hot, but just perfect for an afternoon ice cream pick-me-up.
The windows were open as it was hot, so I could hear the piano playing from my bedroom, the largest room in the house’s front that used to be my grandmother’s parlor and bedroom.
As soon as I entered the front door, I started yelling for my mother. Kids always yelled for their mothers back in the 50s and 60s, which was appropriate for the times. So, puzzled as my mother did not respond, I walked on through the door. I called again, and there was still no answer, so I proceeded up the stairs. Mom loved playing the piano, so I thought perhaps she was so immersed in her song she blanked out me and the world. Typically, she would sing while playing the piano, but it was only music this time. And I didn’t quite recognize the tune, as my mother loved to play hymns most times.
My mother didn’t reply after I repeatedly called her name. I have a bit of a temper, so I grew agitated and yelled louder. I finally reached the doorway, and just as I entered the door, the cover slammed down on the keyboard with a loud bam! It was so hard all the keys vibrated, creating a horrible sound. I was mad as I walked in the door, and now I was entirely in the room.
There was no one there and nowhere to hide or run. I looked side to side realized I had just busted a ghost playing the piano in the middle of the day! Suddenly I felt them come up beside me, and my feet grew wings. I was down the hallway, down the stairs and out the front door, and halfway down the street before I could regain control of my legs and stop them from running.
That was the first but not the last time I would hear that piano play. No longer would I assume there was a human playing that thing. To make it worse, that was MY BEDROOM, so I’m not sure how I ever fell asleep. Eventually, exhaustion would overcome me, so I’d pass out.
Years later, I interviewed my brother, and he said he heard the piano play by itself all the time. So I’ll see if I can have him write up his story to add to this book.
