Jim Wells R.I.P.

I share the sorrow at learning of the death of Jim Wells.  This was
a true-blue, All-American character!  I ran into Jim a number of
times at various Musical Box Society (MBS) meetings, car or truck club
get-togethers, the annual Hershey car meet, etc.  He was indeed one
of a kind.

I owned a Berry Wood coin piano which I purchased with two or three
rolls, and always wanted to get more.  The original rolls were cut just
for the Berry Wood pianos by QRS many years ago, probably in the 1930s
or so.  They were terrific arrangements not available on 88 note rolls,
QRS or otherwise.  Jim told me he had some in one of his garages or
barns, and he'd sell them to me for what I considered a very reasonable
price, "Once the snows melted and I can get into that barn".

At my repeated, anxious requests, he looked repeatedly, but was never
able to find them in his chock-full-of-goodies-barns.  In time, I did
locate one more roll elsewhere.  I recently moved from New Jersey to
Virginia and brought along tons of stuff for which I have built a
separate storage building.  It's piled high with boxes, and I don't
know where _anything_ is, let alone a half-dozen rare Berry Wood player
rolls!  So I remember Jim with fondness and a sad camaraderie.

Some of us old-timers from MBS may recall this story:  Jim attended a
MBS meeting some weeks before the Presidential inauguration of Richard
Nixon, to tell us that his steam calliope was going to be in the
Inauguration Parade.  In his charming, twangy, humorous way, he related
this story:

The Inaugural Committee asked him to bring the unit into Washington
so they could see and hear it, and judge how it would be heard, etc.
Jim brought the rig into downtown Washington, set it up in a field,
and proceeded to play the calliope.

For those who've never heard a true steam calliope, be it clearly
known, they are _loud_!  Obviously.  They were originally put on
steam-driven entertainment riverboats to alert people in the next stop
from miles away.  Thus, the townsfolk knew that "Showboat's Comin'"
and provided a large crowd at the pier when it arrived.

As Jim had his instrument play, minions of the Inaugural Committee
would wander off up the street and eventually come back to say they
could hear it.  The instrument was stopped, and discussion ensued.  Jim
was asked to play it again while the listeners moved off in a different
direction to check out the sound.  Er, that is, the _sound_!

Jim played, stopped, played again, etc.  Suddenly Jim felt a strident
tap on his shoulder.  He turned around to find himself face-to-face
with a large, burly man in a U.S. Marshal's uniform.  The man with the
badge said in his most official tone, "Judge Johnson wants to see you
in his chambers.  _Now!_"

I don't recall the jurist's actual name, but the urgency came through.
So our Jim set off on foot behind the court official, into what he was
surprised to learn was a Federal Court building directly across the
street.  He was ushered into the judge's sanctum to explain what he
was doing.

The judge complained that every time the calliope played, courtroom
proceedings came to an abrupt halt to wait for the din to subside.
People rushed to the windows to locate the source.  Pandemonium
replaced court decorum.  Jim apologized, and explained that it was
because of the parade committee.  He had felt that one playing of one
tune would have sufficed!  When the judge asked how long it was going
to continue, Jim said he didn't know.  The judge went back into the
courtroom, and told everyone, "Alright!  We're _all_ going to go across
the street to see the calliope!"

Everyone filed out of the building and across the street.  The judge
said "Play it again, Jim".  Most of the people jumped when they heard
the raucous sound close-up.  When the song finished, the judge told
Jim that was his last song for the day, leaving the marshal behind to
enforce his wishes.  The edict was issued with a clear "Or else",
namely the threat of being cited for contempt of court.

Epilog:  When Inauguration Day came, NBC Television televised the
entire parade, which went on for hours.  Every time they cut away for
a commercial or station identification, the announcer said, "Stay tuned
for the calliope!"

Wrong pronunciation, by the way, depending on one's expert sources.
The announcer said what most people say, using the name of the goddess
pronounced "call-EYE-oh-pea".  But this was a _steam_ calliope.  Circus
and steam people for some reason lost to history pronounce it
"CAL-ee-ope".

The strident calls to "Stay tuned for the calliope" came over the TV
again and again, for the length of the parade.  It turned out that
Jim's calliope was the very last unit in the very long parade.  Perhaps
this had something to do with the fact that it was on an original,
horse-drawn circus calliope wagon!  By that time the network people
had lost interest, wanting to get back to regular programming.  Eager
watchers see and hear Jim Wells' highly touted, magnificent calliope,
wagon, liveried attendants, beautiful horses and all, for all of about
15 seconds!

Bless you, Jim.  A lot of us shall miss you, your smile, your
delightful accent, your ingratiating presence.  R.I.P.

Lee Munsick