It was 8:30 A.M. on a cloudy Monday morning. I made my way along the I-215 interstate toward my morning gig. There are two things I hate about piping, playing in the rain and... uh... ok, maybe there is only one thing I hate about piping. Well, today was shaping up to be a true anti-piping situation. As the wipers beat out an unnerving melody, I rehearsed in my mind all the things I needed to do to be successful. Ok, I need my Inverness cape, I have to remember to rotate my reeds, blah, blah, blah...
This particular gig was extremely important. Among the invited speakers were Senator Orin Hatch, and some big wig from the media, plus, Channel Five News would be there and they always love to film the piper. That's alright, I can handle it, I told myself. It took just 20 minutes to reach the Douglas Cemetery. As I entered the lane, I saw canopies set up with officers and enlisted men mulling around. I parked the truck and sought out my friend, Lt. Col. David Schroeder. After the usual pleasantries, I excused myself and returned to the truck. The time had come. Gently, I cooed,
"Wake up little Llieam, it's time to go to work!"
From inside the pipe bag I heard a grumbling noise, the zipper came down a bit as a weary drone peeked out. Immediately, the bag zipped shut again and I heard a fearsome growl start to emanate.
"Oh come on, Llieam. Don't be like that. It's not so bad out here, in fact, it's kinda pretty. Come take a look."
Again I heard the same growl, as if Llieam were saying,
"Dinnae come another step closer, or I'll hae tae kill ye."
"Look Lliem, ye kin either come oot, or I'll no' be treatin' ya tae yer favorite Teak oil bath."
There was a stirring and then the zipper came down. Out came a grumpy, disgruntled set of pipes.
"let's git this o'er wi'", I thought I heard him say.
So, we did just that. As we began to tune, the heavens let loose with an annoying volley of hail. You gotta be kidding me, I thought. I said a silent prayer that my tuning would hold and that the pipes would be in tune. Finally the time came. We took our seat next to the army band and waited for our time to shine. Llieam was now quite excited. He always gets that way just before he performs.
"Is it time yet?"
"No!"
"Is it time yet?"
"No!"
"Is it time yet?"
"No!"
"Is it time yet?"
"Fer cryin' oot loud, Llieam. Will ye shut up an' let me hear the speakers?"
Llieam went silent and his drones sunk down a bit. It was the ole guilt trip again. This time I didn't pay any attention, after all, he deserved it. At last the speakers concluded and they began the roll call. This is where they call a few names and then call the names of those who have died in action. It is quite moving. I turned to Llieam and whispered,
"Ok, it's time. Are you ready?"
There was no response. I had hurt his feelings, sheeesh!
"OK, I'm sorry I scolded you. I'll try not to be so hard on you in the future."
Suddenly, Llieam's drones perked up and he was at attention, just in time. I stood and blew life into the bag. Llieam responded and to my delight, the pipes were still in tune and sounding great.
The sky was still dark with grey clouds. Then a strange thing happened. As I began the second refrain of Amazing Grace, the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine flooded through. It lasted for only a few seconds and then it was gone. It was almost like God heard the sound of the pipes and parted the clouds like someone parting window curtains. I could imagine him saying.
"Hmmm, who is making that wonderful sound? Ah, there he is. Well done, carry on!"
I concluded the tune and sat down. It was a miracle, praise the Lord! Well, maybe not anything so earth shaking as that, but to me it was a really cool experience, and so I pipe on. Cheers!
(No animals were harmed in the making of this story. All facts are true, except for the animation of the pipes. As we all know, pipes can't really talk, or can they?"
To view the video of the event described above, click on the link below.
Veteran honored for sacrifices made 93 years ago - ksl.com
