Response to the Smithsonian’s letter establishing a fellowship to support us the first year after Tom’s accident was generous and touching. We sent letters to everyone who contributed, marking the new year with an update on where things stood. At that point we didn’t know there would be another half dozen surgeries, each two-part treatment for ruptured tendons taking up the better part of a year. Clearly we needed more help in the shop again, so a talented young woodworker joined us in January. In addition to Tom’s efforts with the Cristofori material, instruments in progress continued toward completion. Clients on the waiting list were informed that their deposits would be refunded if they didn’t want to wait longer for delivery, but they all stayed with us. And in mid-summer Tom began his self re-invention with a trip to Italy.
A couple of friends who used their discretionary income as professional bassists to acquire a collection of noteworthy instruments realized they would have to sell some if they wanted to buy more. They needed help with this, Tom had some free time and experience in the instrument marketplace, so they entered an informal partnership. On a few days’ notice, Tom was asked to meet Paul in Florence to advise what they should purchase from a private collection. A couple of these basses appear on their first price list, and Tom began creating specification sheets for everything in the collection.
By late August, Tom was back in the hospital for the second phase of the first tendon reattachment surgery. As he emerged from the wooze of drugs on the day after the operation, Barbara arrived with a surprise gift: a photo taken several months earlier showing us with Sheba trotting down a country road – on the cover of Middleburg Life! The monthly magazine was the primary local publication read by everyone in the area. After this astonishing occurrence registered with him, Tom mumbled, “Sometimes the highs and lows in life come very close together.” Our motto for the beginning of the 21st century.
