there and back again

Brook and I made a quick trip to Columbia, SC to visit our Aunt Jennie Llew and Uncle Pat. The conversation from our doorstep to theirs seemed less than any previous trip I've made because of the fun conversation made between Gadsden-Columbia-Gadsden-Columbia on I-20. Brook and I rarely get to have a nice long conversation - so I enjoyed every minute of the drive time. I don't recall any silence between the topics - two Finlayson's - nothing out of the ordinary. This was the second outing together as brothers this year which is a rarity. Last good conversation was that recent Jackson Browne concert in B'ham that was a treat of one of our sweet sisters. Thanks again Cindy.

A real highlight of the trip was encouraging both Jennie Llew and Pat to talk about our ghosts of Finlaysons past. So many stories - peaks into yesterday. Listening across the table at Brunches, was like peering through a knot-hole in a fence into their youth, my father's youth. We could only see so much through that hole - but each glimpse will be fondly remembered and retold down through the years.

The best story was the one about my grandfather Burruss and my dad Westbrook.

My father grew up in a home filled with music. My grandmother was a piano teacher and pretty much all of the Finlayson children were trained to sing "properly". I remember years back when many of them came to visit us on a trip to Gadsden while we still attended Bellevue United Methodist Church atop Noccalula Mountain. During those visits, the Finlayson aunts and uncles were lined up in the pew like a row of canons - with their hymnals held high and bifocals aimed. When the hymn would start - those vocal canons cut loose across the unsuspecting flanks. It might have been me - but I felt as if their voices boomed above the sound of the entire congregation - including the choir.

Back to the knot-hole-

Proper - opera-fashion - that was music and the only kind that a serious singer or musician should give attention to - at least that was the law back then. I guess you could imagine what my grandfather thought of Westbrook's dance band venture back in those days. As you might recall from my earlier posts around this time last year, my dad formed his own swing band - H. Westbrook Orchestra. He wrote, arranged, conducted, and crooned his way in and around the Carolinas and beyond. Papa wasn't very happy with Westbrook. Jennie Llew and Pat recalled the big Columbia newspaper article that came out about his son's orchestra. It was that spread that Papa proudly unfurled to display the accomplishments of his talented son Westbrook to all his fellow tradesmen friends at the watering hole. That article proved a turning point that validated Westbrook's music with his father.
It might not mean much to anyone else, but Brook and I appreciated the brief glimpse. I might have missed a little of the story, so Brook can fill in, add to, correct, or comment if he'd like.