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Back in 2001, when my mother had to enter a nursing home, we had to clear out her home inorder to put it on the market. Being the oldest, most of the work fell upon my shoulders. Looking back over 50 years of memories, it was difficult to package items to give away, or to leave for the "rubbish removers" who came with a dumpster to clear the rest away.
As a child, I remember the Victrola being the centerpiece of our frontroom. It was a large piece of furniture with a cabinet that contained a 78 RPM record player that hadn't been used for decades. Time had lessened its significance as smaller record players for our 45's and 33's had replaced it. Then came the advent of casette players and CDs that left it nothing more than a relic for vases with plastic flowers and family photos on top of it.
It was about to be carried away by strangers who knew nothing of its significance to me. As a young child, I remember my mother playing old 78 RPM recordings that stirred my love for classical music. My favorites were "The Nutcracker Suite" and Mozart's 40th symphony. I would dance around the frontroom in ecstasy trying to express the music, especially with the different dances of "The Nutcracker" ballet music. On Saturday afternoons, she would use the radio part of it to listen to the Metropolitan Opera from New York. It was an experience that I never forgot, leading me to study music.
The Victrola went silently, as well as other memories, into the graveyards of the past.