Penny’s Tumped PIANO
Sinking Fork Memories
Dr. Gary Straub
Meadow@StMatthews
Summer of ‘74
Cerulean, Kentucky is home to Sinking Fork Christian Church; so named for the creek which sinks at the schoolyard and forks toward the church house. I enjoyed serving this sweet-spirited, two-clan congregation while finishing my seminary work at Nashville’s Vanderbilt Divinity School. I was their first-ever resident pastor.
The “parsonage” they rented was a bungalow belonging to two church kids whose mom was killed in a car wreck last Christmas. Penny and Mark—instantly orphaned. They left all their stuff in the house and moved in with grandparents down the road. All was hunky-dory until Penny’s mother’s huge upright piano always seemed to be in our way. Church knew it needed moving and agreed to Saturday a.m. ix stout deacons wrestled that musical monstrosity up into Doug’s pickup and were fixing to tote it over to the grandparents cabin. I rustled up rope and got busy tying off. Deacons huddled & decided: “preacher, don’t need no rope; that piano ain’t going no where, no how.” Out voted, I hopped in the cab as deacons piled in back to “steady the load.” All’s well… until we turned off the Pennyrile Road toward granny’s house. Suddenly that piano took a notion… and tumped out over the truck, smack dab on its head. Talk about smithereens!
Piano wires were boinging as we scooped up the wreckage. The deacons kept up a long lament while kicking piano parts into a pile. “WOW, guys it sure is broke.” Then they dummied up on me, unanimously deciding: “preacher does the talking, right, boys?”
Ever tell a sweet, tender—heartbroken teenager that the only thing her momma left her just tumped over—killed in a one vehicle accident? Penny’s Grandpa, a man of mercifully few words, told those deacs: “pile it in my pickup, boys.” Word spread quickly at the Country Store. The deacons felt like dawgs—they fessed up on themselves; which probably saved the elders from firing me. As the preacher I felt an evil shadow. Just imagine: how would YOU like to stand in the pulpit that Sunday? Felt like just one more funeral. Folks flat skedaddled after the benediction. Youth Group got cancelled. I crawled home to our now spacious living room…minus piano! All that ‘extra room’ felt guilty! Lord have mercy! Elders took a dim view AND a collection; carried it to Penney and prayed with her. We grieved Penny’s mom all over again. The church mood settled into a deep, dark heavy blue…a cerulean blue, to be sure. Gonna be a long hard Lent!
Two mornings a week I sat in my church study, waiting for the new phone that CWF installed to ring. First call? Hang-up! Second was Penny’s gramps, summoning me to ‘come by after school.’ I got greeted at the back door and heard Penny playing PIANO in the living room. Grampa carried that junk pile of wires and splinters to a piano man; a restorer over in Cadiz, near Lake Barkley. Penny hugged me hard and forgave me for killing her mother’s piano. I have never felt the true ‘resonance of redemption’ til I heard Penny play her Mom’s piano. She played that old gospel song ‘Rescue the Perishing.’ Lyrics: “Chords that were broken will vibrate once more!” Sinking Fork taught me that far beyond our poor power to fix anything, Jesus’ generous grace heals & restores. God brought back together what belonged together but was apart. Redemption’s song.
Sometimes when my heart is hushed, I can still hear Penny’s piano; the sweet sound of God’s power to reconcile, heal and bless. Kinda brings to mind Ps 130:5 “For with the Lord, there is GREAT power to redeem.”
