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I can remember when the moving men came to my parents house when I was five years old. They carefully rolled a giant dark brown upright piano down a ramp into the sunk-in living room. My grandma had recently moved and gave us her 1868 JC Fischer. If it had always been there since I was born, I might not have noticed it or played it. As it rather seemed to crash it’s way into my world, I was drawn to it. I went over and put my little hands on the decaying ivory, started to play and something changed in me.
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