On his business cards, Jerry Deck calls himself the Piano Doctor. He does not call himself the Piano Doctor Frankenstein, nor certainly the Organ Doctor Frankenstein.
So when Marilyn McCarty brought him the remains of an old reed organ — shoeboxes full of wood scraps, felt and leather innards, Tupperware containing mistreated metal reeds and “a wobbly wooden box” of a frame — the smart move probably would have been to let the dead lie.
But Deck didn’t do that, because it’s hardly in the spirit of his motto: “I’ll figure it out.” Rather than turn her away, he said, “Yeah. I can do this. Piece of cake.”
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