A Visit to Hellen Kellers House

Today was an interesting day. I started the morning off with my usual cup of coffee and strong sense of boredom. I've been sort of 'shut down' for just about six weeks due to having a cast on my right arm. that changes on Monday, my arm will be free.

But back to today: Where was I? Oh, yes, Bored-Outta-My-Ever-Lovin'-Mind. I decided that I was going to go find a mall. Having come from a HUGE city (compared to my current tiny town), I was jones-ing big time for a mall, an Olive Garden, Panera Bread, anything OTHER than Sonic or McDonalds. Where to go, where to find a mall? Hmm, Nashville would work. NAH, been there, done that. I know, I'll go south, into Alabama. The city of Florence is not too far across the line, Yeah, I'll go there.

Being a big-bad tough truck driver for ever, I figured didn't need a map, so off I go. I accidentally got on the Florence bypass, (hey, at least Florence is big enough for a by-pass!) and found myself in a small town named Tuscumbia. NO, I wasn't lost, just temporarily misplaced. Or just riding around, or, well, ok, I wasn't sure which way Florence was at this point. I decided to take a right at the next light and it was there that my day's destiny was changed. The sign on the sidewalk read, 'Helen Keller birth place' and the arrow indicated 'this-o-way'.

Cool, I thought, as I obeyed the arrow instructions and turned that-o-way. I wandered through the old town of Tuscumbia (where ever that was in relation to Florence) following 'this-o-way' signs until I happened upon a bigger 'Here you are!" sign. The house sat back from the road, surrounded by huge, 200 year old trees and a perfectly manicured yard. I noticed that one of the shutters on a window was sagging slightly. Entering the house I found my self in a breezeway, typical of old homes, where two older women greeted me and took my 6 bucks for a tour.

They explained the life of Helen Keller, her teacher Annie Sullivan, and said that most of the furnishings and clothing I would see on the tour were original. The first room to the right as I walked through the breezeway was the parents room and some vintage cloths. To the left was the parlor. There was a fire place in there, a Victorian style sofa, Mr. Kellers desk and an old pump organ.

The organ was small, with beautiful guilded scrolling on it. The two foot pedals were covered with a cloth that was much like burlap and very ornate. The keys were smaller than today's piano or organ keys, and the key board itself was very short. I believe it was 61 keys. There were 4 'stop' knobs, two on each side of the keyboard, on the back board. In front of it was a small, round stool, on claw legs that were carved very nicely. The seat was covered with a buttoned velvet, tan in color. So what do I do? I open my big mouth and say:

"That looks like it would be fun to play!" Well, these tow old ladies lit up like lightning bugs mating in the spring, and clasping their hands under their chins, squeal in unison,
"Can you play it?" "Well," I started to stammer, " I guess I could figure out a song on it."

End of conversation, right? NOT! I continued my tour, walked around the grounds and headed for my car. From behind me I hear, "Oh, you come back, you promised to play the organ for us!"

Oh, boy, what did I get myself into, I wonder? I DID play one once, about a million years ago, so here goes nothing. They nearly dragged me into the house again, got the tiny padlock key out and unlocked the gate into the parlor. Next thing you know, I'm sitting on a 100 year old stool in front of a hundred year old organ.

Tentatively, I press one of the pedals, yup, it worked, I could feel pressure building as i pumped air into the antique. I played a few notes, it sounded wonderful. The sound was bold and rich.

"Aren't you supposed to pump both pedals," another tourist asked me. "Yes", I say and get both my feet moving. I played Amazing Grace on it. It took a lot of balance and strength to stay on the stool while I pedaled (like riding a bike) and played. With each push of my feet, my body wanted to lean back. I heard murmurs of appreciation behind me and requests to play more. I declined, the old instrument probably hadn't been played in years and I didn't want to be the one to break it.

I took advantage of being allowed into the off limits area and looked closely at some of the things in the room. Helen's braille book, a family photo album, the fine china set on the dining room table and the silver tea set from England. I was really honored, to get such a treat for a lousy 6 bucks and a 70 mile drive!