Entry #674102, added on 11-01-09 @ 2:04 am EST
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(2,441 WC) November 1, 2009
“Are you getting along alright?”
“Yes! Everything is just more than perfect. Thank you, Dr. Blair.”
Melvin Blair looked at his old friend carefully. Time had taken its toll on both men, but Blair saw only his friend standing before him. The wind and sun of the desert climes had obviously affected his body, his skin a dark tan and leathery. The climate surely had agreed with the man, as he looked less than 2/3 his actual age. Slender and wiry, Josiah Young had preserved well.
“I will have to be leaving shortly, Dr. Blair. The document has been packed by your people, and will be with me all the way home. I will guard it with my life; you have my word.
“Oh, my friend. If I needed your word, you would never have the document in the first place. You are as aware of its importance and unique 'status' as I. I feel it will be completely safe in your care.”
“It will be, my friend. You must know that the people of Salt Lake City will surely appreciate your kind loan of the manuscript to the Tabernacle Center. Such history, coming even to such a well-known facility as the Tabernacle has made a lot of buzz in town. I cannot tell you how much I, and the people of the Wasatch appreciate your generosity. To know that you will be performing the work for us in only a month makes it even more exciting.”
“I have a long and fond relationship with the people of the Tabernacle, Josiah. From my days working with Alex Schreiner, and especially my years with Dr. Otley, my time in Salt Lake City, Holiday, and your fine accommodations in Park City and in the National Park are among the fondest memories of my life. Visiting one more time for a farewell concert is the least I can do. Besides, it is my particular wish to include the organ on my tour.”
Dr. Melvin Blair was suddenly very far away. He was remembering the first time that, as a young man, he had first touched the manuals of the world-famous Skinner organ of the Mormon Tabernacle. Under the cautious, watchful eye of it's keeper, organ master Alexander Schreiner, Blair had begun the opening sequence of the Bb Prelude and Fugue. He had been transported to a heavenly place, the keys fairly playing themselves as the opening theme came from the golden Tabernacle pipes. As the closing notes of the fugue, under Blair's expert fingers, wafted to a different universe, tears fell gently down his cheek. The beauty of the statement the piece elicited was beyond his wildest dreams. That was one of Blair's most beloved memories. J. S. Bach had done some of his most amazing work with that piece.
Years later, Blair would solve an ages-old dilemma to be found in the middle of the classical music while on a Fellowship to the town where Bach had hand-written the piece. It was the original copy of that music that Josiah Young would carry to Salt Lake. That was the music that Blair would play, one more time in the Tabernacle.
This time, however, it would be the music and Blair himself that people would come to see and hear. It was fitting, as far as Blair was concerned, that the autograph be on display in the halls of the Tabernacle Visitor's Center for the weeks until he could once again perform the piece before 3,500 select, but absolutely adoring fans. The Tabernacle was a sacred place. To Blair, this was among the most sacred of music. He remembered touching the autograph for the first time.
A water smudge was on the page precisely where the “question of the F#” had originated. There had been much speculation about the water stain, but Blair had seen it and had at once recognized it. Bach had sweat over this peace. Blair believed that his idol, hero and mentor had cried in this precise point of the manuscript—just as he had when he first touched the writing tablet.
The music had been printed many times, by many different editors. They had individually struggled with this particular section. Many had included the notes of the sequence as an F. Others had inserted an F# into the translation. Blair had solved, for all time, the dilemma in a paper presented to the Bach Museum several years later. His dissertation had resolved the issue for all time.
It was this very autograph that had given Blair the clue he needed to finally dispense with the hype, the speculation, and the unending harping over the “question” for over almost two full centuries, since first being penned by the master himself. The autograph itself had been presented to him as a prize for his solution. It was among his most treasured possessions, kept in an environmentally controlled display case at the Grand Organ estate. Pipe Dreams was not only his headquarters.
It was also the home of a large staff and retinue of friends and fellow musical aficionados in the Central Kentucky bluegrass country. The Bb autograph belonged to Blair by all rights. His desire was that it be preserved for all time, for the pleasure of music lovers the world over. It would tour with him to Salt Lake, under the watchful eye of one person Blair knew would protect the document with his life, if need be. Josiah Young was Blair's friend. That was a very rare phenomenon in the musical universe that was Melvin Blair.
In fact, Young had volunteered to chaperone the document when the topic of having a Salt Lake concert had first been raised at Pipe Dreams estate. Blair had received a request from the highest levels of the Mormon Church, to present a concert series in the Tabernacle as a part of his well-publicized “Farewell Tour of the Grand Organs” well over a year ago. Some tour venues had taken months of preparation to even consider the honor of Blair's performance on the instruments known around the world. The Salt Lake concert had been arranged first, in less than four days!
“Dr. Blair? Melvin!”
“Yes?” Blair pulled himself back from the vaunted halls of the Tabernacle as his friend called his name.
“Are you alright, Dr. Blair?”
Blair smiled genuinely to his friend.
“Yes, I'm terrific, Josiah. I was recalling the Tabernacle, and the wonderful love shown to me there so often. It is quite a wonderful memory, actually.” Young smiled warmly.
“I am honored to be their Ambassador in this most auspicious cause, Dr. Blair. Truly I am. We of the Valley do love you, and keep a warm spot in our hearts for you. We always have, and we always will. I daresay none more than myself. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even be here today. I've never forgotten that.”
Blair had, several years before, helped Young out of a particularly difficult situation. They had become friends during the process. Young had four children, all of whom had the middle name of Blair.
“Oh, my dear friend. I am the one who had been the lucky one. Your friendship has meant the world to me. I am a very lucky man, indeed to call you “friend”. It is one of my highest honors.
You know that, Josiah. You are one of the very best men I have ever known.”
“If you two are through with this meeting of the mutual admiration society, lunch is ready!”
Betty Jensen had been standing in the doorway of Blair's office suite, listening with rapt attention. She never tired of hearing others speak with such admiration for her friend and boss. She was seldom surprised to hear such testimonials in public—or in private any more. She also knew that, as much as Blair meant every word, he was always embarrassed to hear them from others. It was so easy for him to say them, Betty just didn't understand why it was so difficult for
him to hear such accolades when they were about him.
Both men turned to see her leaning against what would have been a door frame, had there been one present. Such “normal” things simply did not exist at Pipe Dreams. Blair saw his friend, smiling gently toward them both. It gave him no small reassurance. Things were well.
“Ah, Betty. How nice to see you this morning. I suspect it's morning somewhere!”
She laughed, and threw her body into a full and upright position from her left shoulder. She walked casually into the office, and came to stand before Young.
“You are two hours behind us, Josie. For you, it IS breakfast. If you like breakfast at ten in the morning, that is.”
The two hugged warmly. Everyone at Pipe Dreams loved Betty Jensen, whether they lived there or were an honored guest. Young gave her a serious hug, picking her off her feet. For such a slender man, Young was used to wrestling cattle and free-range horses. Jensen weighed every bit as much as he, yet he hoisted her with an ease that was impressive. She laughed with the laugh of a child being hugged by her favorite Uncle.
“Oh, stop it, you old geezer. Watch your heart, old man!”
“I may be older, but I'm still able to handle you, Betty! Don't you forget it!” Young spat the words amidst a full laugh that came from somewhere near his toenails. The two held arms for a moment. Looking into the eyes, each spoke volumes. They shared many things, but first among them was the shameless admiration for Dr. Blair.
“You, Sir may accompany me to the cafeteria for the noon meal. Should you feel it absolutely necessary, you can ask what's-his-name to join us. Personally, I'd rather you di....”
“Well, he does look a bit peek-ed around the gills. I reckon we better feed 'im. It'd be a pure shame if he were to just faint away from lack of nourishment, after all.” Young's eyes, full of laughter, bored into Blair's.
“We'd better stop and pick up Cameron on the way. I need him for a couple of things before you take off, Josiah.”
“How's Cam doing? I haven't had much of a chance to see him since I got here. Is he okay?”
“
He's completely wonderful. He has really come into his own in the past few months. He keeps both Betty and I on our toes, for sure. But, he's really become an indispensable part of our family. Since we have officially become family, he has really done some amazing things for my general attitude, I can tell you that. You need to be prepared, Josiah. I think Cam is going to be in the cockpit today. He and Captain Stearns will be your pilots for your ride home. I think he has ulterior motives, however. Unless I miss my guess, he's going to be trying to sell you on the idea of his being a hand on your ranch this summer.”
“If you can spare him, Melvin, I can surely use him. I know a couple of troopers that would certainly love to see him again.”
The “Troopers” in question were from Blair's private herd of thoroughbred horses. They had been transferred to Young's ranch in Utah for care. Among other things, Josiah Young was a well-known large animal Veterinarian, specializing in the care and restoration of abused horses. It was a long story, but both Cameron Micheal Blair and more than a few of Blair's horses had been abandoned by tragedy. He had bonded with them almost immediately. No doubt, these particular animals were privy to some of Cam's most private thoughts. He had spent hours speaking softly to them by the hour when he first arrived at Pipe Dreams. Even more, Cameron had spent untold hours with the animals as he was considering life not as an orphan, but as the adopted son of Dr. Melvin Blair. They must have given him good advice; Cameron had done tremendously well in his new environment and life.
As the troopers had helped Cameron heal, so had he helped them adjust to their newly-found accommodations in the Wasatch Range of Utah. He had made the trip with the animals himself and had stayed two weeks with them. He didn't just travel with the thoroughbreds; he slept and ate with them for the first week in their new digs. His familiarity was totally calming to and for the horses. Young had not stopped talking about the young man's loyalty to horse flesh.
“I'm not sure I could do without my son that long, Josiah. But, if they need each other, so be it. Just don't give in too quickly. Make Cameron work for it, okay?”
“Of course, Melvin. I understand. But, I'm afraid he and I are fast company already. He's quite a young man. He's every bit worthy of what he has been given. I think he thinks just a whole ton too much of you, but I think that with a little fresh mountain air, we cou....”
“Testify, Josie! Testify!”
Betty took each man's arm, and gently guided them all into the “tunnel” which would deliver them to the cafeteria. They talked and laughed as they completed the short journey. This was life at its very best, as far as Melvin Blair was concerned. Surrounded by the people that meant the most to him, in the one place he never wished to be far away from, Melvin Blair was completely in his element. How freakishly normal it was for him. No crowds, no troubles, no problems, and no great, earth-shattering concerns. This was the life that Melvin Blair had always wanted; the life he had dreamed about for so long. On one side, his number one champion and confidant. On the other, one of his dearest friends. Such as the tremendous costs he had paid for this moment, Blair knew that, were the cost to be higher by an order of magnitude. He would have gladly paid it. Walking toward the cafeteria was not going to lunch for Melvin Blair. He was walking toward the love of his life, his son. How could things possibly be any better?
Without meaning to, Dr. Melvin Blair was so overcome with his own happiness that he let one simple word express the inexpressible for him.
“Damn!”
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