I had never seen anyone like him. His skin was white as a sheet and it looked as if new fallen snow rested on his white hair and frosted eyebrows. Pale blue eyes were shadowed by thick coke-bottle-lensed glasses. Those appearances of the Albino man were a stark contrast to anyone I knew. Yet, it wasn’t so much his appearance that struck me, but rather his quintessential skill.
The Albino piano tuner entered the parsonage. I’m confident that he could have found the piano just by sensing the unstruck keys that ached to break out in song at the master’s command. He removed the front panel of the piano to reveal the workings that consisted of a labyrinth of over two hundred strings, pins, and felt. Soon he laid out his tools. He treated the piano as he would a newborn baby, handling each instrument with care as he tuned every note.
There was magic in his fingers. He used the tuning hammer, turning each pin slightly left to relax the string, then right to tighten. As he turned the pin, he struck the key to make sure the string was in tune, then moved to the other strings that created the “unison” of that note before proceeding to the others. He listened as he played 3rds and 5ths and octaves. What made such an impression was the fact that he did not need a tuning fork or an electronic chromatic tuner. He merely listened and sensed with his ears. He had perfect pitch.
Every hammer, damper, and piece of felt was gently caressed. He sat on the bench, lifted his hands and placed his fingers gently on the keys. Music flowed from the strings as his fingers glided over the keys. The tune that rang from the strings was a pure unadulterated melody. The musical masterpiece filled the room and echoed from the hallway.
The master tuner may have been considered legally blind, but what seemed a hindrance to some may be a blessing to others. His vision was impaired, but his other senses were enhanced. As his fingers tickled the ivories, he became one with the piano. There was mutual respect between the two. He needed no assistance to know if the piano was in tune. His sense of hearing was all he needed along with the skill of tuning.
And I wonder, we rely so much on vision we miss what our other senses want to show us. Our eyes often become the hindrance that narrows our vision. What if we allowed all our senses to work together in perfect pitch? What melody could we unlock?
