I found it in a flea market, tucked away in a broken-down cardboard box that was shoved halfway beneath a display table.
What caught my eye was a corner of an old newspaper—and I’ve always been a newsprint fan—so I pulled the box out into the aisle, sat down on the floor and went through every magazine, newspaper, booklet, and folded broadside inside.
There was a lot of it: a few editions of the Boston Transcript, some 1930s Good Housekeeping magazines; there were some old Shubert Theatre and Boston Symphony Orchestra programs. It all had that particular smell that old paper carries…
I found this on the very bottom, the last piece of ephemera in the stack.
Miraculously, it was not distressed; there were no folds, no rips, no smears or smudges—kept flat and safe for years at the bottom of this old cardboard box. I recognized Gregorian Chant notation: four clef lines, single note (punctum), two stacked notes (podatus); although I had no idea what any of it meant (my high school Latin long gone, long gone…).
I fell in love with it…bought it on the spot.
I had it matted, framed; it now hangs in my study.
I’ve always thought that one of the most powerful moments in human history must have been when two (or more) people realized they could sing together—sing as one rather than independently; they must have found the sense of unification and community that still draws us together today.
Raise your voices high!