As time grows short, twin hopes to find brother's body

Kathleen Battle

Childhood Music

My earliest memories of music are of my grandmother singing “Once in Royal David City,” as she drove me the half-hour from our house to her apartment, and of listening to my mother’s classical record colllection.

The minute I took ballet, my friends and I played her 33-rpm recording of Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake” and “Nutcracker Suite,” and performed in our dining room, where the table was kept to the side. We marched to clear red plastic 45-rpm recordings of John Philip Sousa and sang endlessly Gilbert and Sullivan’s “I’m Called Little Buttercup” from records with pictures printed on them.

I learned the...