"Oohh! What a beautiful organ!" exclaimed the five-year-old girl, gazing in wonder and delight at the beautiful Casavant Frères tracker pipe organ. "May I try it?"
     "Oh, no, you mustn't!" replied the pastor's shocked wife, who was showing the girl and her mother around the church.
     "Why not?" asked the girl. "Gail lets me play the organ at our church all the time. She even let me play one of the hymns last month."
     "Gail?" asked the pastor's wife.
     "Dr. Gail Clarke, the organist at our church," explained the girl's mother. "She also teaches keyboards at the University."
     "Luther, our organist, would have an absolute fit if anybody else played this organ. He doesn't even let the tuner touch it if he's not here."
     "That seems a bit extreme," replied the girl's mother.
     "You don't know the half of it, Mrs. Schweitzer. A few years ago, when Luther was on vacation, I had a grad student from the University play for the services. When Luther found out, he was absolutely livid! Since then, he's padlocked the circuit breaker every time he's gone on vacation, and we have to settle for piano music."
     "Gail lets me play before and after my lesson," said the girl, "and I also get to come in and practice on the organ three times a week."
     "Before and after your piano lesson?" asked the pastor's wife.
     "Before and after her organ lesson." Mrs. Schweitzer turned to her daughter. "Now, Jennifer, if it's going to cause trouble, you really shouldn't press the issue. At least you got to see the organ."
     "She takes organ lessons?" asked the pastor's wife.
     "Yes, since she was three. We've got a beautiful Flentrop at our church, that's probably only a little bit smaller than your organ."
     "But she's so little! How does she reach the pedals?"
     "We haven't quite worked that out, yet; so far, she's mainly been playing keyboard music, piano music, and manuals-only hymn settings. Occasionally, she'll play a duet with Gail, sitting on her lap: Jennifer plays on the manuals, and Gail takes the pedal part."
     "It's lots of fun!" added Jennifer. "I can't wait 'till I'm tall enough to reach the pedals!"
     The pastor's wife was amazed. "I'll probably regret this, but hopefully, Luther won't find out. At least, he won't find out from me." With that, she opened the console roll-top with a spare key, picked Jennifer up, and set her down on the bench. "This I have got to see."
     The pastor's wife turned on the blower, as Jennifer quickly looked over the large console. "I really shouldn't even let you try it, but I think we could sneak in a couple of really short pieces. As long as we get everything turned off and locked up before Luther shows up."
     Jennifer's sandaled feet dangled completely out of reach of the pedalboard, and she had to stretch and lean to reach most of the stop-knobs, but with the first few measures of a Rondino by Rameau, played on light, fluffy flutes that made it sound like a bird song, it became quite obvious that Jennifer knew exactly what she was doing. As she played, she closed her eyes and smiled blissfully, her ponytail bouncing and swaying in time with the music, as if it had a mind of its own.
     "You weren't kidding, Mrs. Schweitzer; Jennifer's marvelous."
     Jennifer continued with a hymn setting from Flor Peeters' Little Organ Book, and was half finished with it when the organ abruptly went flat and fell silent. Jennifer looked up to see a large hand folding the music desk and slamming down the roll top, just as she heard an angry voice.
     "What is this kid doing, messing with the organ?" Jennifer turned around and saw a stocky, angry-looking man confronting the pastor's wife. "You know the organ's too delicate and expensive to let visitors, especially kids, poke around with. What if she'd damaged it?"
     "For pity's sake, Luther; she's been taking lessons on the Flentrop at her church since she was three!" replied the pastor's wife. "What damage could she have done?"
     "You," said Browning, "Get off that bench right now!" He lunged at Jennifer; her mother grabbed her.
     "Don't you dare lay a hand on my daughter!" replied Mrs. Schweitzer, in a very quiet but utterly icy and utterly commanding tone.
     Browning stared down at Jennifer, who was already becoming upset. "I don't ever want to see you within ten feet of this organ again, or I'm going to call the cops and have you arrested." He turned to Mrs. Schweitzer. "That goes for you, too."
     "On what charge?" asked Mrs. Schweitzer.
     "I'll think of something!" Browning turned to the pastor's wife, and grabbed the spare key out of her hand. "I'll take that; obviously, the only safe place for it is in my car."
     Browning turned back to the Schweitzers. Jennifer was in tears, and her mother was rather obviously angry. "I don't want to see either one of you around this organ again. If I even hear that this kid's been fooling around with it, I'll make both of you regret it."
     "Is that a threat?" Mrs. Schweitzer was herself rather livid at that point.
     "Just a fair warning."
     The pastor's wife accompanied the Schweitzers out the door. "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Schweitzer." She turned to Jennifer. "And I'm especially sorry that you had to be on the receiving end of that tirade." She turned back to Mrs. Schweitzer. "I did say, though, that something like this might happen."
     "How'd a bozo like that get a job as a church organist?" asked Mrs. Schweitzer.
     "He's got lots of relatives in church. And his father's president of the bank that holds the note on the organ, and most of the notes on the building. I suspect that if my husband or I even tried to get rid of him, we'd be the ones out of a job."
     As Mrs. Schweitzer put Jennifer in the car, they heard the pastor's wife hollering as she went back into the church, "Luther Browning, that kid's a prodigy. If she ever becomes famous, we'll be known as the church that threw her out when she was only five years old."
     "I'm sorry, Jennifer." said Mrs. Schweitzer, as they drove off. "If you calm down, I'll buy you an ice cream, and we can talk about it. Remember, at every other church we've visited, the organist was overjoyed to let you try the organ."
     That evening, Mr. Schweitzer wasn't very happy about Browning's tirade. "If he ever threatens Jennifer again, I want you to call the cops on him! What he did is child abuse, and heaven help any children he might have. His wife, too, if he can get anybody to marry him."
     At Jennifer's next lesson, Mrs. Schweitzer mentioned the incident to Dr. Clarke.
     "Oh, dear; I wish you'd told me, Anne. I could've warned you about that fellow."
     "You know him, Gail?"
     "By reputation only: `Left-foot Luther' Browning. I've never had to deal with him myself, but one of my friends did. Sally Mitchell, one of the women I went to graduate school with, had just landed a job teaching keyboards at a community college, when she was called as a substitute for Browning, while he was on vacation. She played for two Sundays, and thought everything had gone well: the congregation liked her, and so did the pastor and his wife.
     "Then, about two weeks after, she got a call from Browning. It seems he'd just found out about her, and was completely out of his mind with rage. He was threatening to file a grievance against her with the local AGO chapter, accusing her of trying to steal his job."
     "My goodness, Gail!" replied Mrs. Schweitzer.
     "How'd he get the name, `Left-foot Luther'," asked Jennifer.
     "He learned on the half-pedalboard spinet-model toy in his living room."
     "Eeeeeewwwwwww!" exclaimed Jennifer, making a face. "I'm glad I never heard him play."
     Gail nodded. "Such a waste: he plays that beautiful Casavant as if it were a spinet-model Hammond."
     "How does somebody like that get a job as an organist?"
     "Sally and I wondered that, too, Anne. So we did some research."
     "The pastor's wife told me he was the son of their banker,"
     "Yes, that was one of the first things we found out. We also learned that when he's not losing his temper, he can be quite ingratiating."
     "Hard to believe."
     "We had my mother spy on him; that's exactly what she said. That, and that he was probably the worst organist she'd ever heard, and that it was a shame to hear such a beautiful organ played so badly."
     "Is there anybody else you should warn us about?"
     "Nobody I can think of," replied Gail. She turned to Jennifer. "How are you feeling? Were you scared?"
     Jennifer nodded. "I'm feeling better, now."
     "Shall we begin, then?"
     After the lesson, Jennifer asked Gail a pointed question. "How do people get to be mean like that?"
     "Usually, it's because they're insecure."
     "You wouldn't ever get mad at somebody like that, just for wanting to try the organ, would you?"
     "You know, Jennifer, a few years ago, when I was still a graduate student, I might have, but not any more. Definitely not after I got to know you. Because I know that if I hadn't let you try the organ, your talent might have gone to waste."
     "I'm never going to do anything like that," said Jennifer, with an utterly serious expression on her face. "If anybody ever asks me to let them try an organ I'm in charge of, I'm going to let them try it."
     "Well, if you can make that promise, I'll promise you this: you can let anybody you want try the organ here."
     Twenty years later, though her ponytail still seemed as if it had a mind of its own, Jennifer's sandaled feet no longer dangled out of reach of the pedalboard. In fact, she had become known, among other things, for a pedal technique so formidable, she could play better in street shoes than most organists could in purpose-built organ shoes, and she'd written books on pedal technique. As she finished the Bach "Great" Prelude and Fugue in D, the group of Vacation Bible School students applauded enthusiastically.
     "You make it look so easy, Jennifer."
     "Well, I guess it is kind of easy for me. But then, I've been playing since I was three years old."
     "How do you do that, with your feet?" asked one of the children, one who'd been particularly impressed by the pedal solos in the Bach. "I don't think I could manage it with my hands!"
     "It's really not all that hard to learn," replied Jennifer, smiling. "Want to hear some more?"
     The children all nodded.
     "How about something by the Beatles?" Jennifer drew some stops, and began to play Octopus's Garden. Soon, she and the children were singing along.
     "All right, kids," said Jennifer, hopping lightly off the organ bench, "who wants to try it first?"
     "You mean, we get to play that?"
     "Sure, why not? It's really not as hard as it looks, and it's lots of fun. Heather, I saw you playing the piano in the classroom; why don't you have a seat and try it."
     A bit unsure of herself, Heather climbed up on the bench. "What should I play?"
     "What would you like to play?"
     "Morning Has Broken?"
     "One of my favorites." Jennifer drew some stops. "Try this, with your left hand on the Ruckpositive, and your right hand on the Hauptwerk." She guided Heather's left hand to the lowest manual, and her right hand to the middle one.
     Heather tried a few notes in each hand, smiled shyly, and began to play the hymn.
     "That's beautiful, Heather." Jennifer helped a number of the children onto the bench, and they played everything from hymns and classical pieces to rock (as well as a few renditions of Chopsticks), under Jennifer's guidance.
     "How come you're letting us try the organ, Jennifer," asked one of the children. "Isn't it awfully expensive, and delicate?"
     "Well, it is very expensive, but it's not any more delicate than the pianos in the classrooms. If Gail hadn't let me try it when I was three years old, I probably never would have become an organist.
     "Besides, twenty years ago, I was thrown out of a church, because the organist didn't want anybody else playing there."

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My Organ Page Revised January 4, 2001. Links revised July 17, 2011.