When I was kid a teacher , Mr. Hanley, told my parents I shouldn't even try to sing. He had asked for new members for the chorus. He auditioned us in class by blowing a whistle and having us all sing a song in French while he gave us each a critical ear. This was the first time I had seen a pitch pipe and I had no idea what it was for. I just sang. He passed by me. I begged for a second chance and he agreed to audition me separately. He played the piano and I sang while he shook his head or frowned.

He told my parents I had no idea of tune, time, or key. He would let me into the Elementary chorus because I tried so hard and because it was obvious that I wanted to be there. But could I please not sing loud. So I didn't sing lound when he was around but at night on the tractor I sang out loud every song I knew. I sand in the car with Dad going fishing for Bullheads at Fairhaven. Most hymns and gospel tunes. My Mom, the devout babtist woman that she is, taught me to sing Buffalo Gals, a song about dancing with hookers. I'll never understand that.

We just sang in family because we could. Not that we knew how or that keys were important. It was the singing that was important.

When I got older and my friends had guitars and sang all the time, I listened and wished I could play something and sing too. My Mom gave me an Autoharp for Christmas in 1968. I finally had an instrument and In time I found a voice. My friend Dick Ward explained to me about keys and singing there in. I learned to tune it and play it and I learned Can't Help But Wonder, and Everytime, and Changes, and Last Thing on My Mind, and Many A Mile. Then one day in the spring of 69 at a senior class picnic when everyone was playing Cruel War, and Dona Dona Dona, I got out the Auto harp and slipped in Nectar of God. This stopped them all cold. Then Randy said " Do You know another one?"

Thats why I sing.

Don