Chapel services at my workplace are usually boring affairs. I usually close my eyes and try not to nod embarrassingly when I fall asleep. I have nothing against the speakers - they usually seem to have put a lot of effort into their messages. However, chapel is every single Tuesday, at 8:00 in the morning. I'm not an early morning person, and the consistent Tuesdays have bred into me a general complacency.
Hilton Griswold changed that for me, at least for today. He was introduced as an 86-year-old gospel singer who toured with a group of 6 guys.
Hilton walked slowly to the piano. His back was hunched and his head hung forward. Arthritically he sat down and made an old-person joke. His age showed right up until the moment when he played the first chord on the piano.
His hands began to dance along the keys, bringing forth a spritely gospel tune. Then Hilton began to sing. By the end of the song, he had sung each part of a 6-person male gospel chorus singing group. Hilton's range stretched from the deepest bariton to a high tenor and alternated repeatedly. Though his age was apparent in his voice, it lent a richness that can only come from years of singing.
When he finished, he rotated slowly on the piano bench, then placed both gnarly hands on both wobbly knees and pushed himself into his feet. With his back still hunched over, he made his way slowly to his seat behind the piano, an old man once again.
Hilton Griswold's performance has changed my mind about Tuesday morning chapels, at least until next week.
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