Organist

Dad knew how to play the piano but didn't feel like he was a good organist.  He played the organ like a piano and didn't know how to play the petals well.  Dad was asked if he could serve as the organist for the ward (I think it was around 1990).  He would drive Elizabeth to the church for early morning seminary at 6am and would go into the chapel to practice organ.  He practiced for an hour every day.  Much like serving as choir director in every place they lived Dad did the same as organist.

Dad had the leather briefcase with a open hinged top that he kept his organ music in.  Mom bought him special organ shoes that had a small heel on them so he cold play the petals well.  I remember these special organ shoes being a big deal for him.

One Sunday in El Cajon while the Sacrament was being passed the organ started playing crazy creepy Haloween sounding cords.  Dad was sitting on the organ bench and as every eye in the chapel turned to look at him he raised his hands to indicate that he wasn't doing it.  The organ had a malfunction and he turned it off so that it would stop making crazy sounds.

When he no longer had girls to take to seminary in the morning he changed his practice time to others times in the day.  But for the most part he continued to practice for an hour every day.  In Provo the church was close enough that Dad would walk there every day when he practiced.  One winter Dad slipped on the ice and fell on his way to the Church.  He got up and continued on and practiced the organ.  After practicing he realized that his leg really hurt.  As I recall he called mom and she came to get him instead of walking home.  He had broken a bone in his leg.  I think that may have been the end of him walking to practice.