A SINGULAR MAN
Named after an officer who fought in the Great War, Ormiston was born November 26, 1923. He became known as Ormie and later simply Orm.
What an unusual man he was—I mean that in a good way. He was intelligent with a quick sense of humor and the ability to “do a room,” as they say. At any of the social events he attended, he was the center of attention. He had a kind of local celebrity status. Strangely, he wasn’t at all self-centered; he just loved to make people laugh and enjoy themselves.
It’s a shame he wasn’t able to fulfill his dream of making show business his full-time occupation.
I say show business rather than music business because although he was an exceptional musician, he didn’t think playing the piano was enough.
“You have to be a showman in some way,” Orm would say, “And your band has to be unique and memorable.”
Although of direct Irish descent, he was born and raised in the mostly German-Canadian city of Kitchener, Ontario. He picked up bits and pieces of the language from the German priests and brothers who taught him in high school. These were the seeds of some of the many sayings and aphorisms that coloured the witty repartee he was famous for in later years.
Examples: From the dubious “Was ist los im der sheisenhousen!” to the even more dubious “Vil stu mit mir shlaven in der hang de hi doven!” both of which meant either “What the hell is going on” or “Settle down, damn it,” he wasn’t above making up his own sayings that merely sounded German.
In the house where he grew up there was an upright grand piano, an extravagant wedding present his parents received in 1912. His Mother had him take lessons on it from an early age. By adolescence, he had completed grade eight of the Royal Conservatory of Music.
For a while during his teens, he would play a Sunday request show on the local radio station.
The Merv Hymes Band
From the mid-1940s to the early 1950s, he played the piano in a Kitchener ensemble called The Merv Hymes Band. The band consisted of four saxophones, two trumpets, two trombones, piano, guitar, bass, drums, and two vocalists. They performed music from all the big bands, including Glenn Miller, Tommy Dorsey, Duke Ellington, and Count Basie.
They played dance halls around southern Ontario for a while before landing steady gigs at Burlington’s Brant Inn and later at The Rosslynn Grove in Kitchener.
It was a very good band. I know that for certain because I’ve heard the 78 rpm recordings they made. Live with one microphone and direct to disc, it was an unforgiving format, but they sounded great.
They did some fun novelty songs as well as all the Big Band standards. An example is Triskaidekaphobia, a rollicking comedy swing tune about fear of the number thirteen that Orm would sing. He’d jump off the bandstand during the instrumental section and dance with the nearest girl.
They also put on wacky skits. Conga lines that led right outside into the parking lot, no matter the weather. A mock baseball game complete with a peanut vendor strolling through the dance hall yelling, “Hot nuts! Get your hot nuts here!”
In one of their skits, Orm would show up after the band had started playing. He’d walk through the crowd with a briefcase, climb on stage, and make a big show by removing his hat and coat and opening the case. He’d take out a triangle, and right on cue, the band would pause. He’d strike the instrument, place it back in the case, put his hat and coat back on, and leave.
For a time, during one of the band’s intermissions, the club had Hawaiian dancers doing the Hula in grass skirts to recorded music. At the end of their performance, it was Orm’s idea to chase them off stage with a lawn mower.
The news spread. The Grove was packed every weekend, and for a while, The Merv Hymes Band was broadcast coast to coast each Saturday night on CBC radio.
How do I know so much about him? He was Orm Heffernan. My Father.
This is part one. Next is “Family Life….. Music Vs. Kids”. Stay tuned!