The Motorcycle and the Back Room Piano—When I Became a Church Musician
The picture of me next to the red Honda motorcycle is special to me. Not because of the motorcycle, but because of the place where the picture was taken.
I remember that building as the Blue Paint Store. My cousin painted a three-story sign on the side of that building. Later, in the late '70s, that space became the gathering room in the back of Noah’s Ark Christian Bookstore. Where I’m standing in that picture is where a piano was once placed. A significant moment in my life occurred there during the summer of ’75.
A traveling preacher and his wife were in town. As was often the case with traveling ministers, they stayed at my family’s house. As a curious 12-year-old, I loved sitting for hours around our table, hearing their fascinating firsthand accounts of their experiences around the world.
When the conversation turned to the meeting that evening, the preacher asked about musicians for worship. We had none. One of my parents mentioned that I played piano. I balked and said that I didn’t know the songs and had never played to accompany singing before. The preacher said all I needed to do was play some chords for accompaniment. I agreed to listen to the songs and work on them for the next time he came through. He grunted, and I thought we had an understanding.
When it came time for worship, he announced, to my incredulity, “We will now have Jerry play the piano for us. Jerry, come, we will pray.” I was not about to argue with a Jamaican well over 6 feet tall, so I got out of my seat and joined him in front of the group, unsure of what we were going to pray about.
He put his hand on my shoulder and, in his beautiful Jamaican cadence, prayed, “Lord God, help Jerry to worship You on the piano and give him the ability to hear the chords. We ask this in Jesus' Name. Amen.”
He motioned toward the piano and said, “Sit.” So I sat. I felt foolish.
He said, “Play a D chord.”
I had enough theory from my very capable piano teacher to know how to do that. So I did.
The preacher and his wife began to sing in harmony.
🎶 “I’m singing wonderful, wonderful…” 🎶
🎶 “Every day, in this way…” 🎶
“Ooh, that sounds like a different chord should go there…maybe a G? Yes!”
🎶“Wonderful, wonderful is He.” 🎶
“Hmm… It seems to go back to D there. I guess that works for now…”
🎶“For He has rescued me, set me free, lifted me gloriously…” 🎶
“Oh! This is just like the last section! Ok, not too bad…”
🎶“Wonderful, wonderful is He. For I’ve come out of the valley…” 🎶
“Oh no! What chord is this? Maybe an A? I guess that’ll work for now.”
🎶 “…where the darkness abounds.” 🎶
I worked my way through that song and survived. They did two or three more songs. Fortunately, there was only one song that was in a different key. To my amazement, I could hear where the chords should change. After that meeting, I played for church weekly, and I’ve continued to do so up to the present day. I would go on to take lessons from various remarkable musicians and teachers who helped me hone my skills and develop musically. It all started for me in that awkward-feeling situation in the back room of the Noah’s Ark Christian Bookstore.
