My story begins at the age of five. I remember sitting at the piano with my grandmother, a music teacher, patiently trying to get me to pound out some tune or other from the copy of “John Thompson’s Easiest Piano Course” that my parent’s had purchased. My interest in piano lasted long enough to get me through one disappointing recital performance where performance anxiety got the better of me. It wasn’t a fun time.  Also, I had recently discovered Barbies, which I found infinitely more fun to play with than the keyboard. Thus ended my career as a budding pianist.

Three years later, while attending my school’s music night, I spotted a shiny new trumpet which immediately invoked images of me standing in one of those cool band uniforms the older “cool kids” got to wear at football games. Alas, the local music store owner running the event had other plans. He told my mother I didn’t have the correct lip shape for playing a horn and suggested I try the flute instead. While I suspected he thought trumpet was an inappropriate choice for a girl – this was pre-Title IX – my mother seemed content to follow his guidance. Plus, I could still march with it. So, flute it was!

I played that instrument for three years and had a blast, that is until one day when a band mate pulled out what looked like a skinny clarinet. What really caught my attention wasn’t the look of the thing so much as it was the sound. Oh, that sound! My mother – herself an avocational harpist – was always playing some classical music album or other on our home “hi-fi.” One of her favorites was a recording of Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Scheherezade.” I loved it so much that once I was old enough to operate the turntable myself I nearly wore out the vinyl playing that recording. So, when I heard my band play, I recognized the instrument immediately as the one that had captivated me over-and-over again as I listened to my mother’s record. From then on, I was all about the oboe!

As difficult to play as it was, I loved the challenge of overcoming the various obstacles I encountered – embouchure, air, reeds. I eventually improved enough that my oboe teacher encouraged me to consider a career as an oboist. I probably would have gone that route were it not for my mother, who strongly discouraged it. Her mother – my piano instructor – had once owned a music school and made a decent living until the Great Depression hit. My mother would talk about all the times she saw Grandma sitting alone at her desk and crying as she tried (and failed) to balance both the school’s books and her family’s budget. Times were very hard, especially for a divorced mother of three. My mother’s message was clear: Feeding yourself on a musician’s wages can be a special kind of harship.

Once I started high school, I stopped playing oboe and began focusing on subjects that were likely to lead to a reliable income stream. No marching band, no orchestra, just slide rulers, microscopes and test tubes. It proved to be a good choice for me, though deep down I hoped that someday I would be able to resume my double reed journey. In 2017, I did just that.

My husband and I had settled down after several years spent living the retirement dream, first as expats in Costa Rica then as RV-ers towing a fifth wheel around the United States so we could volunteer at various public lands. That lifestyle wasn’t really conducive to studying music, and we were far too busy just having fun. No longer living as a vagabond meant I could find an instrument and take lessons. The former was easy. However, our decision to live in rural Florida made the latter impossible. There just weren’t any qualified oboe teachers. Still, I persevered, limping along by myself for a couple of years until I felt confident enough to join the local community band.

Once COVID hit and everything shut down, I decided to learn to make my own reeds. A quick Internet search for “double reed intervention near me” lead me to Jennet Ingle’s YouTube “Five Minute Reed Maker” channel then soon after to studying with Jennet through her live online program for adults.

These past few years have provided me with so many amazing opportunities to play in a variety of chamber groups, orchestras and bands. While it’s been gratifying to take on the challenge of playing oboe in a difficult work like Bernstein’s “Symphony No. 1: Jeremiah,” the most gratifying have been performing with smaller ensembles for audiences at adult care facilities, especially nursing homes. Bringing the joy of music to people who are often isolated, sometimes forgotten is a kind of reward that money cannot provide.

While my mother may have been right about the financial hardships of life as a professional musician, I suspect both she and my grandmother would be pleased to know that their girl has found great riches in  sharing her music with others as an avocational oboist.

Sally Finney Timm, M.Ed., CAE (Ret.) is a retired association manager. She chairs the Avocational Players Committee of the International Double Reed Society. Sally, her husband Leonard and their dog Coady live in New Castle, Delaware. She currently serves on the Board of Directors for and performs with the Newark Symphony Orchestra in Newark, Delaware and is a member of the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute’s Community Band in Wilmington.