Normally, we look at our mechanical and/or musical reproduction
machines as a box full of switches, relays, pipes, blowers, solenoids
etc.  But has anyone ever experienced something from a musical device
that exceeds what the instrument was capable of doing on its own?

As most of you know, I have an analog Lowrey Symphonic Theatre Organ
for practicing in my home.  My organ belonged to a woman who purchased
it new.  She played it almost every day for 25 years, even throughout
her final illness.  Apparently, this instrument brought her great joy,
and the built-in cassette deck has a tape made by her.  She was quite
talented.

The organ sounds delicious (for a Lowrey), and the technician has
noticed that the organ has been "souped up" to more closely resemble
the sounds of a Hammond (namely, a switch was installed to allow
bypassing of protective circuits that prevented over-driving the amps,
which in turn replaces of the soft, Conn-like tibia sounds with a
harsh, B-3-like attack).  It's great fun to play.

I purchased the organ soon after she passed away and have had
tremendous fun with filling the room with its luscious chorus and
celeste sounds.

But I'm beginning to think that the organ may have come with another
extra that I didn't see in the bill of sale.  It seems to have a life
of its own, kind of like the "Junchen-isms" that haunt the slightly
larger Sanfilippo organ in Barrington, Illinois.

About a month ago, a friend and I were sitting in my "music room" and
suddenly she (my friend) jumped.  She explained to me that she felt a
cold draft behind her, turned, and THOUGHT she saw an old woman out of
the corner of her eye -- sitting at my organ.

We laughed about it and it was quickly forgotten.

Last night, a friend spent the night on the sofa in the music room.
When I awoke this morning, I found that he had already made coffee.
He told me that he awoke in the middle of the night, opened his eyes,
and saw an old woman sitting at my organ.  She got up, walked across
the room, through the living room, and, according to him, walked out
the door and he heard the door close behind her.  When he got up to
see if the door was unlocked, he said he felt a cold draft by the
organ.  After that, he was scared to death and couldn't sleep.

I noticed this morning that the door was unlocked (even though
I distinctly remember locking it last night).

Coincidentally, I am putting my home on the market next Monday, and
I'm not certain that I want to take the organ with me if I move out of
state.  My friend feels that maybe the old lady wants to play it a few
more times for fear that I might cannibalize it and make it into a
blanket chest, salad bar or writing desk.

Normally, I'd shrug off the above story.  But twice in one month?
It is kind of odd. . .

Does anyone else have eerie, surreal or supernatural stories about
their own organ? Does anyone have an interpretation of my story?
I'd be very interested in hearing them.

Thanks!

John Carrington
Chesterton, Indiana