This is a new electronic edition from the original hardcover book published by Exposition Press in 1963. The Heavens Heard Him is a biographical novel closely based on the life of the great Italian-American musician, Pietro Alessandro Yon (1846-1943). PDF, $9.00; Kindle $9.99 from Amazon. (A print edition is not available.)

This electronic Second Edition corrects errors from the original and adds a capsule biography of Yon by D John Apple. High points include:

• Yon’s interactions with Victor Emmanuel III, King of Italy, including his graduation: “Your Majesties, ladies and gentlemen. Once in a great while a professor finds himself thoroughly astounded. It is my turn today. This student beside me has accomplished all major subjects in five years, courses that usually take eleven, and he has surpassed previous records with his total average.” The ripple crescendoed to loud applause. “Furthermore,” Professor Bucci went on, holding up a hand for silence, “since Maestro Yon has won every award, and would be subjected to considerable exercise, this afternoon, if he had to keep going up and down the center aisle, it is my pleasure to hand the eleven prizes to him together.”


• Even after serving in the US Army, Yon had to deal with prejudice against foreigners: “There is someone among you who is determined that I shall not play. This morning I was threatened with physical violence by the Ku Klux Klan if I dared perform. But no one need fear. I reported the matter to the police and the building is well guarded.” His tone soared to a peak. “They do not want me to play because I am a foreigner. I, a foreigner? I am an American citizen! I wore the uniform of our country happily and proudly. If I am a foreigner, so are we all, for born here or not, all of us have roots dating back to the Old World. I did not believe such things existed in America. Since when does art know race, color, or nationality?”


• His most difficult organ concert in Carnegie Hall: Amid the cries of “bravo” and “encore,” a clear voice suddenly hurled the phrase: “ ‘Infant Jesus.’ [Gesu Bambino] Play ‘Infant Jesus.’ ” The musician took a full pace backward, as if thrown off balance by some unseen blow. The suggestion received immediate favor, and a chorus of cries from the balcony echoed the request. “ ‘Infant Jesus,’ with the chimes. Play it! Play it!” Pietro strode to the bench as if in wild retreat, and broke violently into the “Concert Study,” using its musical acrobatics as a wild escape. The hall again was silent while the crowd sat fascinated by the whirlwind of dashing feet and hands, driving a deluge of notes from the bowels of the instrument. He seemed to have recovered his composure by the time he ended the number, but as soon as he had again faced his audience, the cry from the balcony was resumed. “The piece with the chimes!” Another voice chanted, “Give us ‘Infant Jesus!’ ”