Chapter Forty-Four

Here’s the next Chapter of Lost and Found.

You’ll probably get on my case for such a short Chapter this week, but if I didn’t do it this way, the post would be way too long. So, sorry, folks. I guess this is one of the benefits of being the writer. There will be some longer Chapters in the near future.

Thanks for all the great comments last week. Several of you liked the embedded videos — and it was a “trip” for me too – to do something which I couldn’t do in a “real” book.

Hope you all have a great week.

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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Miss Thomas and I continued to work together every week, and as time went on, I learned more about her. She was born and raised in Jamaica. Her mother was Jamaican and her father was American. He was an executive with the Ford Motor Company and they lived in the big house I went to the first time I came for my lessons. Miss Thomas lived in an apartment above the studio where we had our lessons.

One day after our lesson, Miss Thomas said, “Roland, we won’t be having a lesson next week. I’ll be traveling to Jamaica to do a concert with the symphony orchestra there. I’ll be doing this from time-to-time as I also belong to a chamber music group that performs in Jamaica. This time I’ll be gone about a week since there will be rehearsals before the concert.”

I thought about this for a moment or two and then asked, “Miss Thomas, why do you go to Jamaica to do concerts? Why don’t you do them here?”

Her eyes took on a hard look – one I hadn’t seen before. Her face seemed to stiffen and her lips grew taut. She swallowed, and then cleared her throat. When she spoke her teeth were clenched so hard her jaw muscles were jumping. “I go to Jamaica to do concerts because I can’t do them here. I’m not white, so I don’t get invited, nor am I able to find an agent or manager who can get me bookings here.”

“But, you’re not a Negro, are you? I don’t know many Negroes, but the ones I’ve seen, like Joe Louis, have skin that’s much darker brown than yours. And, you’re so pretty.”

“Thank you. What a nice thing to say, Roland. The problem is – I’m not white. It doesn’t matter about the fact my skin isn’t as dark as other people you’ve seen. There is still so much prejudice here. Most of the doors for non-white musicians are still closed, especially for classical musicians.”

Miss Thomas seemed to be relaxing from the tension I saw earlier. She stood up and reached over to touch my face. “One thing which does make me happy is I am able to bring my better students to the concert stage here. I recently helped one of my students get an invitation to perform with the Detroit Symphony.”

I nodded and wondered if I would ever be a good enough pianist to do that.
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