Bringing joy through music

Everyone has a story.

Periodically, 318 Forum’s Tony Taglavore takes to lunch a local person — someone well-known, influential or successful, and asks, “What’s Your Story?” A cavity.

A pulled tooth. A root canal. Nothing good comes from sitting in a dentist’s chair.

Unless you’re sitting in a dentist chair in San Angelo, Texas, in the year 2000, with “one of those West Texas dentists with big hair” sticking their hand in your mouth.

“She was saying how bad the piano player was at a Chinese restaurant the night before. I was making small talk with her and told her I played the piano a little. She said, ‘Sweetie, if you can play at all, you can play better than that piano player.’”

After swishing and spitting, the college freshman walked into China Garden and announced he was a piano player. “The lady had me play. I played the first four bars of ‘Moon River.’ That’s all I knew. She hired me on the spot. ‘Come back Saturday.’”

He only knew nine songs, and that Saturday, he played them all — over and over. He made $75, plus a $20 tip from a guy named Big Tom.

“It was a huge pile of money.

Keep in mind, I had come from rural Central Texas, where one of my jobs was hauling hay (for $5 an hour).”

As a bonus, the restaurant owner let the piano man eat from the buffet.

“That’s how it started.” Winston Hall, one of Shreveport-Bossier’s most popular piano players, told me that story, along with his story, during lunch at a place of his choosing: SushiKin Grill & Sake Bar in Shreveport. Winston had and I had a Girl Friend roll, a California roll, and a small sake. I had never eaten sushi and wasn’t about to start, so I had lunch hibachi with chicken, shrimp and water.

The fact that Winston, 42, plays in front of a lot of people — at restaurants, private parties and events — is a long melody away from growing up in a house without air conditioning and 22 miles from the nearest town.

But being isolated from humans and their conveniences allowed Winston to do something which he reaps the benefits of today.

“You went outside and used your imagination. You pretended you were Davy Crockett. You climbed trees, and you had all these adventures. I sincerely believe that helped develop my imagination, which has come in handy as I’ve grown older and gone into my music career.”

Something else that has come in handy are the piano lessons Winston’s mother, who tickled the ivories a bit herself, insisted her son take. These lessons, which started when he was 5 years old, continued through high school.

“She told me she never quite got to the level she wanted. She didn’t have the opportunity. She always regretted that.

When her children came along (Winston has two older sisters), she said, ‘You’re not going to regret it the way I did.’ I credit my mom all day with that insistence. She made me take piano lessons.”

Winston’s first paying gig, in that Chinese restaurant, led to other opportunities, and he earned a degree from Angelo State University in broadcast journalism. After graduation, Winston moved to the Texas Hill Country near San Antonio and made a living freelance writing and playing music. At 25 years old, he loved the small town where he lived — a population of 25 — and its surrounding nature.

“But there was this little voice in the back of my head, nagging me a little bit. I had a lot of dreams and aspirations which were bigger than where I was, and I knew that. It’s a weird thing to wake up in the morning and love where you are, but know you’re not supposed to be there.”

So, in late 2005, on a whim and at a friend’s suggestion, the two moved to Nashville, Tennessee.

“I didn’t think I would be the next country music star, but I could write songs. I was going to be a songwriter and try to get a publishing deal.”

Things started out promising. “The first week, my neighbor invited us to a Country Music Awards after-party. I went and bought a suit at Target on my credit card. At the party, Clint Black was sitting at the bar. I met a no-name singer who had just signed a record deal. Nobody was talking to her. I talked to her for about

10 minutes. Her name was Taylor Swift.

She was 15-16 years old.”

Winston’s confidence grew. “I’m going to be a rock star here,” he assured himself.

“I’m going to know all these people.”

That night proved to be the high point of Winston’s time in Nashville.

“I learned a very important lesson. Sometimes you want the phone to ring, and it just doesn’t ring. My phone didn’t ring. My hope went downhill. My optimism went downhill.

My bank account went downhill.”

But eventually, Winston’s phone did ring.

“I’m literally standing in a ditch holding a shovel. It’s spitting snow. I’m in Tennessee working construction.”

It wasn’t a record company calling, but a friend from college who lived in

Shreveport and worked in the city’s bustling entertainment industry.

“He said, ‘If you ever wanted to work in the movie business, this is your chance.’”

Winston stressed over what to do. Oh, and he didn’t have the money to move. So, Winston sold pretty much everything. The last to go was a dog kennel worth at most $150. A preacher came to buy it, and while he and Winston were outside talking, the mailman drove up and gave Winston a handwritten letter.

“It was from my landlord of the house where I lived in the Hill Country. This was months and months later. It was my deposit, $400-500.

“I was crying,” Winston recalled. “The preacher said, ‘Son, I guess that answers the question of whether you need to go to Shreveport or not.’”

Once here, Hall worked in a movie production office. He met Ted Danson one night when the actor’s washing machine overflowed. Winston also met his future wife, Donna, who was responsible for Queen Latifah’s wardrobe on the set of the movie “Mad Money.” And Winston was given a huge responsibility during Oliver Stone’s making of the movie “W.”

“I drove the film, the actual film, to Dallas three days a week to be put on an airplane to Los Angeles, where it was developed and edited. That was a very stressful job. I literally picked it up in a cardboard box. … I didn’t go to the bathroom. I didn’t stop. You’re talking about a couple of hundred thousand dollars of footage in the back seat.”

At night, Winston played music. “I started seeing pianos around town.

The first was at Superior’s Steakhouse. A big, beautiful piano. Then, 2Johns (Steak & Seafood Restaurant) opened. They had a big, beautiful piano. I realized you can make a decent wage and do what you like, and there’s also an economy for it here. People have private parties, events and festivals.”

Winston used to play five nights a week and sometimes as much as nine times a day. Now, you can hear him mostly on weekends. Performing is work, but it is work with meaning.

“One night, this lady walked in (to a restaurant) alone. She sat at a table near the piano. She came back the next week, the next week and the next week. We found out later her husband had passed away. One night, she was sitting at the house, sad and alone, and said, ‘I can’t do this. I have to go somewhere.’ It’s not about the music. It’s about the community surrounding the music. It’s about the joy music brings to a room.”

Assuming Winston had to tune his piano or write a song, I asked my final question: As always, what is it about his life story that can be beneficial to others?

“The journey is long. It takes a while for things to unfold. … Everybody plays wrong notes. But the art of living is can you keep going until you find the right note? Can you make a wrong note right?

Perfection is overrated, because in the mistakes is where you chisel out the story of who you are.”