The pied pipers
by Kristen Hare
On the bonnie banks of St. Joseph, down Mitchell Avenue on a nippy night, inside a quiet church, they play.
In a chalk-colored church hall, three men stand in a semi-circle holding bagpipes. In the middle, a tall, blonde-haired man’s fingers chase across the chanter, left arm squeezing air in the sheepskin bag, which travels out of the drones with the sad fury of “Amazing Grace.’
...Read More
by Kristen Hare
On the bonnie banks of St. Joseph, down Mitchell Avenue on a nippy night, inside a quiet church, they play.
In a chalk-colored church hall, three men stand in a semi-circle holding bagpipes. In the middle, a tall, blonde-haired man’s fingers chase across the chanter, left arm squeezing air in the sheepskin bag, which travels out of the drones with the sad fury of “Amazing Grace.’
...Read More