My dad repeated versions of this story often over the years but finally wrote it down. The piano is still around-it's a Wurlitzer.
So this really happened.
Sometime ago, in the early to mid fifties, Sonora celebrated with a winter time dance called the Fling Ding. Renowned musicians and bands performed at the Fling Ding. Black ties, dress up hats, and dress up boots were the order of the day for the invitation only affair. It was something to just be invited.
There are no records available for what I am about describe, but I was a witness to part of it. We looked in the books to see if the fellow was paid and we found no record of him ever being there. More on that later.
Something went wrong with getting a piano in the wool house. (That was the scene of the Fling Ding-the place was once the largest wool and mohair storehouse in the world). Word got around my grandmother had a piano, and a few fellows showed up to see if she would loan it for the Fling Ding. She said she would. So, they brought the performer over to make sure the upright would suit his needs. He was a rather flamboyant looking fellow.
He showed how my grandmother's upright could be opened up to enlarge the sound and he asked her to sit and play. She played a few religious numbers and he asked her to pick up the pace a bit. My grandmother came out with several saloon rounders that shook the house. He started yelling, that is what I am talking about!
They left and took the piano with them. It is heavy. It takes a lot to move that thing.
The Sunday afternoon after the Fling Ding, a well to do gentleman showed up to talk with my grandmother about her piano. He promised her a specialist from as far away as San Antonio would be called to make the necessary repairs to the piano. While they enjoyed a cup of coffee at the kitchen table during their discussion, several men brought the piano to its place in the living room.
Thinking the worst, my grandmother opened the piano to discover several of the keys were nicked, downright broken, and some were just cracked. She slammed the cover closed and asked what happened.
"We didn't know the fellow played the piano with his shoes."
Jerry Lee Lewis left his mark on my grandmother's piano. She did not allow any repairs to be made.
It was discovered that Jerry Lee brought his thirteen year old cousin along with him and they were married. That kind of stuff did not hold water in that little town and every mention or trace of him being there disappeared. Except for my grandmother's piano. I have it. It is in the same condition as it was when he finished playing it. My grandmother did not lose her temper often, but she did when she found out the piano originally scheduled to be at the Fling Ding was withdrawn when it was learned Jerry Lee would be playing. My grandmother did not know him, and probably died not knowing who Jerry Lee Lewis was.
I see that Jerry Lee Lewis has passed away. He left his signature on my grandmother's piano.
)
