Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling . . .
Whenever I hear this song, I think of my dad.
Since he was such a passionate music lover, there are many songs that remind me of him, but none touches me as deeply as “Danny Boy.”
When I was growing up, music was that special something we could do together. With my brother it was fishing, but with me, James loved to play his harmonica while I accompanied him on the piano.
First, he would line up his instruments — he had several Hohner Chromonicas and a couple of diatonic harmonicas in different keys.
Then we would play our way through my stack of sheet music and piano books — folk songs, church hymns, patriotic songs, show tunes (Rodgers and Hammerstein, Leonard Bernstein, Lerner and Loewe), semi-classical pieces, Strauss waltzes, drinking songs/sea shanties, Christmas carols, on and on.Continue reading