Growing up, I completed an abundance of school projects: a booklet about African animals, a poster on Mississippi, a diorama of Yosemite, a model of a cell, an “ancient” Greek mosaic made out of magazine cuttings, and endless reports on history and literature.
Dad was, unsurprisingly, always helpful with these endeavors. He built a wooden display case for my National History Day project on Native Americans, drove me to craft stores to purchase poster board, glue, clay, foam, and other supplies, and he provided tools and scraps of material from his workbench in our garage.
So when I reached my junior year of high school and began a project on music during the Civil War era, Dad got involved. However, he didn’t provide assistance in his usual capacity as an engineer, a supply run driver, or a woodworker.
During the development of my project, I knew I was missing something unique and creative. I had CDs of ballads and images of old sheet music. What I needed was something entirely original.
Among his other talents, Dad could play the harmonica quite well. He sometimes brought it out when we ate dinner in the backyard on hot summer evenings or when family friends came to visit. I remember the sound as pleasant, soothing, and uniquely him, uniquely Dad.
And so a plan was hatched. Dad would play and I would record “Aura Lee,” a popular song of that era. However, I would be missing those lovely lyrics about a soldier’s far-away sweetheart in whose "blue eyes gloom will soon depart.” That’s how our family friend Paul got roped into the plan. A neighbor from up the street as well as a friend, he walked down to our house one weekday evening, opened a beer or two with Dad (because why not?), and allowed me to record his rich baritone voice accompanied by Dad on harmonica. It was a delightful experience.
Dad and Paul are gone now (Paul passed only a few months before Dad), but I can still hear them both in my head, performing a ballad of adoration and yearning. It was one of my favorite school projects, and I got an "A." Gentlemen, thank you so much.
Here is Dad’s harmonica and a shot of Paul hugging me at my wedding.
