Grace Pickell: Neighbor, Teacher, Friend
52 Ancestors in 52 weeks
Week 51 December 15, 2025
Prompt: Musical
Some families are filled with natural musicians. In mine, that gift belonged to my Aunt Betty — my mother’s sister — who could sit down at a piano and play anything by ear. She especially loved to jazz up hymns, turning When the Saints Go Marching In into a full honky-tonk celebration.
But the musical thread that runs through my own childhood belongs to Grace Pickell.
Grace was our next-door neighbor in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. She was also my kindergarten teacher, my piano teacher, and one of the earliest adults outside my family to shape how I learned, performed, and understood myself.
Happy Kindergarten Days
In August 1959, Grace opened a private kindergarten in her home in the Pennington Hills neighborhood, emphasizing music, rhythm, speech, and reading readiness. Years later, I found the newspaper announcement and realized something remarkable: I was in her very first kindergarten class.
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| Note that there was emphasis on music. |
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| My first day of kindergarten. |
At the end of that school year, Grace staged a kindergarten graduation program at the Women’s Club building. We wore construction-paper mortarboard hats she made herself and sat in a circle on the floor with rhythm instruments. I can picture it clearly even now — my legs stretched straight out in front of me, a tambourine in my hands, trying very hard to do everything just right. It was my first performance, and my first experience being part of something carefully planned and lovingly taught.
Piano Lessons and Recitals
From there came piano lessons. We had an upright piano in the den that my mother bought at auction, and Grace expected me to practice daily — fifteen minutes, which felt like an eternity. I hated to practice. What helped was my grandmother, MeMe, sitting beside me, patiently encouraging me. One of my lesson pieces had a line drawing at the top of the page, and I remember coloring it with crayons to make practicing more tolerable.
Grace held weekly private lessons and Saturday morning group theory classes. By 1962, my name appeared in the newspaper for her January and May piano recitals. I would have been eight years old, in second grade, sitting at a grand piano much larger than I was, wearing my Easter dress and playing a very short piece from memory. To my family, it was a moment of triumph.
As I read those recital announcements decades later, what struck me most were the names. So many of them belonged to children I knew — neighbors from our street, kids from church, classmates from elementary school. The lists weren’t just recital programs; they were snapshots of a close-knit community where music lessons, school, church, and neighborhood life overlapped. Reading them brought back faces, friendships, and shared experiences I hadn’t thought about in years.
At the end of those recitals, Grace presented merit ribbons and little composer statuettes for completed theory work. I must have participated in more than one recital, because I still have two statuettes: Chopin, whom I confidently called “Chop In,” and Tchaikovsky. I don’t know why I chose those composers. My family thought I should have picked Bach or Mozart. But for some reason, eight-year-old me was drawn to the dramatic Romantics — and those tiny composers followed me home.
Eventually, Grace did something else that stayed with me just as strongly. One evening, she called my mother and gently said she didn’t think piano was for me. And that was that. Looking back now, I hear kindness in her honesty. She knew when to encourage — and when to let go.
My father’s dream of me becoming a church pianist ended there, but I tried many other things: ballet, tap, acrobatics, junior choir, baton twirling, even the clarinet (which I hated). I didn’t excel at any of them. What I loved most was playing outside, reading, and making things. Grace may not have made me a musician, but she gave me confidence, structure, and the courage to try.
In 1968, our family moved from Bartlesville to Bentonville, Arkansas, and I lost touch with Grace — or so I thought. Years later, when I began sending Christmas cards, I added Grace and her husband, Marion, to my list. They sent cards back, year after year. Grace always commented on my news, following my career as an air traffic controller as I moved from Houston to Los Angeles to Overland Park, Kansas.
Surprise Visit
One summer, while driving from Overland Park to Tulsa, I missed a turn and unexpectedly found myself passing through Bartlesville. On impulse, I stopped to see Grace and Marion. They were as happy to see me as I was to see them. It felt like no time had passed at all.
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| Marion and Grace Pickell |
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| Grace and Libby |
Cassadaga, Florida
In 1994, while attending FAA training in Florida, I visited Cassadaga — the so-called psychic capital of the world. During a reading, the medium told me that someone whose name started with a G had just died, someone who said I was one of her kids and always would be, and that she was very proud of me. I knew it couldn't be my Aunt Gladys or I would have been contacted. I immediately knew it had to be Grace.
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| Typical medium's house in Cassadaga, Florida. |
A week or so later, when I returned home, there was a letter waiting from Grace’s daughter, Nancy. Grace had passed away. As they went through her things, Nancy realized we had exchanged Christmas cards for years. A memorial service was planned, and my brother Storm and I were able to attend.
There, I reconnected with Grace’s son Franky — three years younger than me and one of my childhood buddies. I always teased him about having to go to kindergarten three years in a row. We built forts out of rocks at a place we called "down the hill", a dump for dirt and rocks. We built a treehouse and he was my first groom when I played dress up with a bride's dress my mom made. Frank and I now stay in touch on Facebook. He surprised me by showing up in Arkansas for my father’s funeral, and later came to Sand Springs for my mother’s service.
Grace Pickell taught me music, yes — but more than that, she taught me how to belong, how to try, and how to be remembered. Long after the piano lessons ended, she still claimed me as one of her kids.
Closing Reflection
Genealogy isn’t only about ancestors and bloodlines. It’s also about the people who shape us — the teachers, neighbors, and mentors who leave an imprint on our lives long after childhood has passed. Grace Pickell may not appear on my family tree, but her influence runs through my story just as surely as any inherited trait. Remembering Grace is a reminder that our lives are shaped not just by where we come from, but by who walks beside us along the way.
And in every way that matters, she was right — I was one of her kids.
Grace's Kids
As a final way of honoring Grace and the community she created, and because genealogy is as much about community as it is about family, I’m including the names of the kids who shared these early musical experiences with me in her kindergarten class and piano recitals. Reading these lists now feels like reopening a scrapbook — familiar names from my neighborhood, church, and school, all brought together by one remarkable teacher.
Grace Pickell’s Kindergarten Class (1959–1960)
(Alphabetical by last name)
Jimmy Adams
Nancy Bridges
Pamela Hefner
J. R. Huffman
Denise Norwood
Franky Pickell
Gary Smith
Libby Wallis
John Whitaker
Students Listed in Grace Pickell’s Piano Recital Announcements (1962)
(Alphabetical by last name; combined January and May recitals)
Jimmy Adams
Julie Adams
Mike Adams
Mark Alford
Kim Baker
Paul Baker
Jean Beckett
Linda Bell
Marsha Bell
Jeff Brasher
Toni Burks
Kay Chrisman
Elizabeth Ann Cook
Mary Helen Cook
Judy Crow
Kathy Crowe
Kathleen Currie
Kelly Dishman
Larry Edens
Lauri Edens
Barbara Faver
Charlie Foster
Ronnie Foster
Julie French
Janey Gray
Becky Hamilton
Kathleen Harper
Doug Heady
Susan Heady
Laurie Irons
Elana Johnson
Mike Johnson
Jimmy Kuepker
Scott Lamkin
Cathy Lhuillier
Calveta Lucas
Laurie Max
Andy McBrayer
Nancy McBrayer
Becky McConnell
Cheryl McConnell
Jennifer McCoy
Eileen McKinney
Kathy Morris
Patty Neubauer
Laurie Nicoli
Donna Jo Norwood
Glen Pharris
Franky Pickell
Nancy Pickell
Ruth Ann Rains
Linda Reilly
Bill Retterath
Ray Retterath
Joe David Roper
Bonnie Sue Roper
Sara Nell Roper
Barbara Smith
Christi Shack
Steven Shack
Susan Smith
Becky Spieth
Barbara Stalder
Kathie Stalder
Raymond Stewart
Janet Thompson
Pam Uzzel
Libby Wallis
Dan Washburn
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