[Every time we publish the "Stolen Oboes and Bassoons" page, my heart goes out to the poor musician who has lost his or her most prized possession. Only occasionally do these stories have a happy ending. One such occurrence was the story of the incredible odyssey of the 7000 series Heckel stolen from Erin Foster of Spokane, Washington. It is told here from an account
that appeared in the Spokane Spokesman Review on Thursday, Jan. 7, 1993 (P.B 1). It is reprinted here with the kind permission of its author, Doug Clark. ED]

Stolen Woodwind Comes Out of Woodwork
Bassoon back with owner after cross-country odyssey

Erin Foster couldn't wait to say good riddance to 1992, the year thieves stole the Spokane musician's priceless woodwind and
broke her heart.

Then at 5:30 p.m. on New Year's Eve, the telephone rang.

"I think I have your bassoon," said a voice on the other end of the line.

The caller was Randy Jones, a saxophone repairman who lives in Waterloo, Iowa.

The saga of Foster's wayward bassoon is like the plot to a "Twilight Zone" episode:

The instrument was stolen Sept. I I from the woman's car, which was parked inside the garage of her Spokane Valley home.

The thieves, spying the long rectangular case, thought they were getting a shotgun. But when they saw what was inside, they ditched it in an Idaho forest near Coeur d'Alene.

Four months later, the bassoon was sold to Jones in Iowa for 300 bucks.

"This is a very strange case," agrees Spokane County sheriff's Detective Greg Conner, who tracked the bassoon to Idaho after the burglars were caught and confessed to the crime.

They told Conner where they had dumped "a giant oboe." But when the detective checked it out, the bassoon was gone.

On Tuesday, just as Jones promised, the purloined bassoon arrived at Foster's home via United Parcel Service. The 30-year-old musician assembled the tubular instrument and began to play Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring."

"There's a small crack in the ivory on top, some key pads are missing, but I think it can all be repaired," says Foster. "I'm so excited to have it back."

Foster and her best friend, Tina Morrison, spent hours and hours trying to recover the bassoon. Their hard work and the honesty of Jones ultimately paid off.

"If I was in her shoes, if it was my bassoon, I'd have been absolutely devastated," says Jones.

Jones says he bought the instrument Dec. 31 from a seedy-looking couple who brought it into Waterloo's Samar Music, where Jones works.

They told Jones they purchased it for their son at an Idaho music store, but that the boy wasn't cut out to be a bassoonist.

"I told them it was a valuable instrument," says Jones. "But all they wanted was the $300 they said they paid for it."

In fact, Foster's bassoon was appraised at $14,000. It is a German-made Heckel 7,000 series model, made in the mid-1930s.

The price is misleading.

"Those lucky enough to have one will never part with it," says Foster. "I know. I went through international sources trying to get a replacement. I couldn't find one."

Not knowing the instrument was stolen, Jones put it on the market. He called Chip Owen, a friend at the Fox Bassoon factory in Indiana. Owen referred Jones to the principal bassoonist for the Detroit Symphony.

That musician agreed to buy the instrument sight unseen for $5,000.

"in my mind I had that money already spent," says Jones. "I was planning to put that money down on a house."

Before the check arrived, Owen called Jones with some sour news.

The bassoon was hot. The serial number was the same one Foster had given Owen last fall, when she put the word out to every woodwindmaker she could think of.

Jones was heartsick, but he did the right thing. "I grew up in a town of about 5,000 people. If I learned anything from my parents, it was to be honest."

You can't say the same for the couple who sold it to Jones.

They lied about everything. They were camping at Fernan Lake and stumbled onto the bassoon not long after the thieves dumped it.

Instead of looking for an owner, they stashed it in the back of their truck and headed east.

Foster says she will reimburse Jones for the $300, plus a bonus.

As for the sleazy couple, Detective Conner says he's not sure if any criminal intent can be proven.

But if having a lot of nerve was a crime, they'd probably get the chair.

Conner called the Iowa phone number they had given Jones to get the truth. After the man finally 'fessed up, he wanted to know if he could claim a reward.

"I told him, yeah there's a reward. For those honest enough to turn it in," says Conner, chuckling. "He didn't like that much."

[Another angle to this incredible story comes from the account which appeared in the Waterloo-Cedar Falls, Iowa Courier on Friday Jan. 8, 1993. It is reprinted here with the kind permission of its author, Larry Ballard. ED.]

This is the story of a Spokane, Wash., woman and her stolen bassoon, the man in Waterloo who got it back for her, a pair of humbling crooks, and the detective who unraveled the whole caper.

"This is a very strange case," said the detective, Greg Conner.

"Very weird," said the man from Waterloo, played by Randy Jones of 820 South St.

Conner, of the Spokane (Wash.) County Sheriff's office, tracked Erin Foster's vintage $14,000 bassoon from her garage in the Spokane Valley to the snow-covered woods of Idaho.

By the time he found it, it was in the hands of Jones, a saxophone repairman who manages Samar Music, 229 E. Fourth St. Jones said he bought the instrument for $300 from a couple who said their son had balked at becoming a bassoonist.

"They were basically down and out people," Jones said. "I told them it was a valuable instrument, but all they wanted was the $300 they said they'd paid for it."

Even in its dilapidated state, Jones said he knew the bassoon - a rare German Heckel 7000 series model - was worth more.

"It had been around for 60 years; I can see how it would look like a piece of firewood to most people," he said. "It was not in a pretty state."

Not knowing it was stolen, Jones put the bassoon on the market, and was immediately offered $5,000 by a fellow musician in Michigan - sight unseen.

"In my mind, I had that money already spent," Jones said. "I was planning to put that money down on a house."

But a check of serial numbers showed the woodwind was hot.

Detective Conner said thieves broke into Foster's garage on Sept. Il, and snatched the instrument from her car thinking its long, rectangular case held a shotgun.

They apparently weren't music lovers, because after they were caught, they told Conner they had dumped a "giant oboe" near Coeur d'Alene, Idaho.

Jones said the couple who sold it to him later admitted they found it while on a camping trip.

Enter Detective Conner. By New Year's Eve, nearly four months after Foster's pride and joy disappeared, the case was solved.

Tuesday, the beloved bassoon was back home.

Foster, an English teacher at North Idaho College who plays the bassoon for three Spokane area orchestras, quickly slapped it together and belted out a few notes from Stavinsky's "Rite of Spring" to make sure it still worked.

"There's a small crack in the ivory on top, some key pads are missing, but I think it can all be repaired," Foster said. "I'm so excited to have it back. Those lucky enough to have one will never part with it. I know. I went through international sources trying to get a replacement. I couldn't find one."

She said she'll reimburse Jones the $300 he shelled out for the bassoon.

Jones said he hasn't gotten it yet.

"That's the risk I run, I guess," he said. "I make out on some, and not on others."

As for his dream home, Jones says it'll be a while before he can make that down payment. Nonetheless, he said he's happy the story ended on a happy note.

"If I learned anything from my parents, it was to be honest," he said.

[So to those of you who have had your "babies" lost or, worse, stolen - take heart. Maybe someday your child will return to you! ED.]

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