Catching the Magic

Catching the Magic

            It has been many years since that last Swanson/Halberg reunion in Glidden. Still, I will never forget the program. We joined together for a time of stories and song to celebrate our heritage. I knew very few people in the room but we all had a common ancestor. Most songs were unfamiliar to me, being of a younger generation, and this being my first reunion. I could pick out Dale Bjorklund’s well trained melodic baritone voice. (Perhaps because of our close proximity.)

            Then a gentleman stepped up to the mike with a briefcase. Upon opening it, I could see the glimmer of silver as he carefully selected a tool. The magic began! Clarence’s eyes shone, his foot started tapping in anticipation of the music to come. He put the harmonica to his lips and lustily blew a lively tune. Details are long forgotten, but the magic lives on. 

            It wasn’t long after, when I, wanting some of that magic, purchased my first harmonica. The Pocket Pal, as they are called, went everywhere with me. If I had a few secluded minutes at work, I would try to pick out a melody. My job allowed for many solitary nights in a van waiting for trains to arrive so I had time to practice. Soon, I was craving more. That year Tony bought me a new harmonica for Christmas. A Honer Echo in the key of C. This became my pride and joy, and my main instrument. I began to practice in the car as Tony and I drove to various destinations. I bought a book, hoping to get tips to further my skills. I found songs in the key of C that I could play from reading the music. The magic was beginning.

            I am always amazed at the sounds that can come from the harmonica and the number of melodies that can be played not only in one key but with only 16 different notes. Pianos with the multi octaves truly are versatile but don’t look down on the lowly harmonica as being too limited.

            In 2004 when I went to Kentucky with a group of 4-H kids, I left my harmonica at home. Big mistake! A tourist shop near our hotel sold Pocket Pals. I and several others purchased one on a lark as the others didn’t know how to play. They noodled around on theirs. The bus trip home was long. It was time for some camp songs. The harmonicas came out. Standing in the aisle of the bus, I noticed my foot tapping, my body swaying. Had I been in front of a mirror, I am sure my eyes were shining too. Song after song, the kids joined in singing to my accompaniment. I had caught the magic.

            Thank you Clarence for sharing your harmonica with us so many years ago. It has made a difference in my life.