Strung along

I am a sucker for sentimentality. I have a shoebox full of old notes from high school and every birthday card I’ve ever been given. The writing in them fills me with pleasure and restores memories long forgotten. I’m amazed at how a simple musical instrument can have the same effect. Judging from the story of my great-great-grandpa’s violin, I do believe sentimentality (and hoarding) must be inherited.

Grandpa Max would bring the violin out at Christmas, after much begging from the children. He would tune the strings, run the bow across the top, and play German Christmas songs.

Grandpa Max died, then Grandma, and here was grandpa’s violin. My brother, two sisters, and I were the recipients of their possessions since my daddy had died earlier. When it came time, the family got together to dispose of the merchandise, tools, play toys, dishes, radios, TV sets, and clothing. Being older and not able to play it, the rest of them didn’t want anything to do with the violin. I said I’d like to have it because I played the saxophone and could tinker on the piano. Since it was an auction among the family, the question was, “What would you give for it?” I said 25 dollars. The reaction was, “Well, it’s yours.” Grandpa Max’s violin wound up coming to our house where it stayed untouched in the closet for almost 30 years.

In September of 2004, Grandma and I were up in east Texas in Jefferson. Grandma took an Aladdin lamp to get an original lampshade. I noticed across the street was a music store called Der Baskit Kase. Damn, it hit me! I went over there and talked to that ole boy that owned the place. I saw that he made, rebuilt, and reworked—new, as well as antique—string instruments of all kinds. I asked if he would look at my grandfather’s violin and make it playable if I sent it to him.

“Oh yeah, just send it to me.”

So, I put it in the box and sent it.

He called back with an estimate. First off, he said the case was no good. It had dust mites, which attack the bowstrings. He threw it in the dumpster. He replaced the bow hairs and all other parts on the violin he deemed necessary; the total labor amounted to 40 dollars. He told me when he called about shipping it back that he was going to send along an estimate on the monetary value of this violin, as he is a licensed instrumental appraiser. What really shocked me was this letter:

September 6, 2004

Ref: Otto Bruckner violin - 1937

Dear Mr. Ray Mickan,

A fine reproduction of Antonius Stradivarius 1716 violin. In 1964 these violins sold for $450.00 dollars. In today’s market the value is estimated at $1,943.90. This estimate does not include a case and bow. The bow is original of pernambuco wood and select quality and has a value of around $200.00 dollars.

This would be an excellent violin outfit for an advanced student.

Sincerely,

Don Clampett

I called him and said, “What do you mean by Otto Bruckner violin?” He said “Well, if you would take that violin and look in the bottom of the case, you’ll see that it’s got a card printed with the words Otto Brückner, and the u has an umlaut, which means it’s pronounced ‘Brickner’. The date right under that is marked 1937, and then it says „handmade copie of Antonius Stradivarius“ Germany. He said he would recommend insurance to ship it back because it is a valuable violin. The insurance and shipping would cost 31 dollars and 60 cents.

I’m anxious to go back to Jefferson sometime. Someday, I want to take this thing out again and really play with it because he fixed me up with a good violin case and that told me that there was no bullshit about him. Especially thinking back to a time when he could have told me, “Nah—ain’t worth fixin’. Do you wanna sell it? I’ll give you fifty dollars.”

That’s the story on Grandpa’s violin.