Book GIVEAWAY: Song and Dance Man by Karen Ackerman
These hands belong to our daddy. Y’all know we’re from the South so even though we are both grown women we still call our father, “Daddy“.
He was born in 1932, the oldest of six children, a child in the depression, in central Texas, on a farm. (He is to the left holding the flag.) Like everyone else in this small farming community, there was little money to go around. They ate what they could grow and scrape out of the not so grand soil. Life was hard but the one thing my “Opa” made sure of was that there was plenty music in their home. “Opa” is the German word for Grandfather.
Not only did my Daddy’s family have music in their home, the entire farming community embraced putting an instrument in each of their children’s hands. In 1949, the one room schoolhouse where my Daddy and his five siblings attended school hired a teacher, Mr. Wisty, who not only taught reading ,writing and arithmetic, he also taught just about every student how to play an instrument.
This is our Daddy standing all of seventeen years old, holding his fiddle. Our “Opa” is also in this picture, to the left with a saxophone. As he was quiet fluent in reading music himself, Opa assisted Mr. Wisty with the music lessons.
Fast forward about sixty years or so. Here is Daddy and one of his Great-Grand sons working on a tune at the keyboard. As part of his homeschool curriculum, Grandson #3 has a once a week music lesson with his Great Grandpa.
In addition to keyboard, they are also experimenting with the drums . . .
bass guitar. . .
and vocals.
There is a country song entitled “Daddy’s Hands”. The first line of this song goes like this, ”I remember Daddy’s hands folded silently in prayer”. Well if I were writing that line about our Daddy it would go like this “ I remember Daddy’s hands pounding hard upon the piano”.
Our Daddy is now 78 years young. He produces a once a month County Music Opry Show. He runs all over South Texas attending polka fests with our mother. He plays fiddle with a band named Gruene’s Crossing. And if that’s not enough, he often plays his keyboard as a one man show. But most of all he loves jamming in his music room!
In honor of all the people who have been blessed by all of the music that has come from our Daddy’s Hands . . .
We’re GIVING AWAY one copy of: Song and Dance Man by Karen Ackerman.
And yes, our Daddy also has one mean pair of dancing feet! You should take a spin with him sometime. You might not be able to keep up.
To enter this contest, just answer the following question in the comments section of this post.
If you were writing a country song, “I remember Daddy’s hands . . .” How would you finish the line?
(Okay, I know if you’re like Jeannine you can’t imagine writing a country song. So just work with me here. Pretend you’re writing whatever genre of music you like.)
The Rules:
One entry per person, please.
No entries after 8:00 pm Central Time, Thursday, June 17, 2010
The winner must be a resident of The United States.
The winner will be selected at random and announced Friday, June 18, 2010, at 12:00 pm Central Time. Check back it might be you!
Life with Joyce
We’ve got another book GIVEAWAY for Father’s Day: Guess How Much I Love You
THIS CONTEST IS CLOSED. You are welcome to leave a comment. We read all of your messages! 
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I remember Daddy’s hands, wrapped around a nice cold beer….
I remember daddy’s hands fixing the tire on my bike….
I remember daddy’s hands dirty with soot from fighting fires……
I remember Daddy’s hands rough and calloused but couldn’t wait to hold them….
Tiffany, I am cracking up. I remember daddy’s hands wrapped around the steering wheel of a tractor….
I remember daddy’s hands always busy doing farm work, which he loved.
OK I know I am past the deadline but really wanted to leave a comment on this one!!! I remember daddy’s hands always being so gentle and kind and FULL of love!!!!
I’m too late too but just caught this today. I’m “Daddy’s” sister on the right of the picture, also holding a flag. I remember Papa leading me down to the alter to wed my sweet love, talking to me all the way down. What a Father.