Portions of the following are excerpted from the August 5th 1974 Beacon Magazine article about Pat, written by Mike Clary. The article can be seen in its entirety on the Kudos page.

Pace was born as Pasquale to young immigrants Vincenzo and Josephine Pace from Sicily. They lived on Charles Street, and Pat was the first of three sons. The Pace family's closest association with any music other than that which came over the radio was through Uncle Tony, who played the accordian. At 4, Pasquale, called Patsy, knew Uncle Tony played badly. Within a year, Patsy could play better.

"I just knew when the notes were wrong," Pace remembers. "I was told later I had perfect pitch. It wasn't something I developed - I was just born with it. It was this talent, and I feel that it would be a betrayal of this talent not to let it happen." The extraordinary talent of Patsy Pace was announced to Akron in the Beacon Journal of March 3, 1937. The late Helen Waterhouse related it this way:

"A fairy must have touched the fingers of 6-year old Patsy Pace, his music teacher says (Pace was actually 7 by three weeks). Like the infant Beethoven who stole from his bed at night to compose his immortal tunes on the piano, so black-eyed Patsy hums in his sleep, his mother says, and keeps time unconsciously to the creations which he sings. And two hours before breakfast each morning he is hard at work on his practicing when the fingers of dawn have scarcely touched the sky."

That same year Patsy appeared on the Major Bowes Radio Hour in New York. "I said my prayers all day so now I'll play real good," he told the Major. And he did. Thousands of Akron listeners used special phone lines to vote Patsy the overwhelming favorite of the week.

His nationwide radio appearance was important in at least two respects. Patsy not only gained thousands of additional fans, but one, Major Bowes, suggested the boy was playing the wrong instrument. When he returned to Akron, Patsy began studying piano. He would never be Petro Deiro or even Dick Contina, and he would be forever grateful. Instead of practicing "Lady of Spain" in doubletime, he started working on Bach.

Pat with Major Bowes, November 11, 1936

After Julliard, Pat returned to his home in Akron. He performed often, fulfilling the promise of his prodigious youth, moving effortlessly between the jazz and classical worlds, equally at home in the concert hall and the jazz club. In 1960, he met and collaborated with noted singer/song-writer Patricia Scot, and the duo quickly became one of the most popular area attractions. In 1961, they married and had a son, Adam. During these years, his life took many tumultuous turns as he battled personal problems arising from addiction. David Giffels wrote "To Akronites of a certain age, Pat Pace became a legend with everything the word implies: genius, weakness, fame, and redemption." A documentary, Feeling Fine, tells the story (you can see the film in its entirety on the Video page).

Pat with his family, 1965

Pat & Lisa on their wedding day

Pace and Paolucci made some home recordings last summer, with no idea that Pat's life would soon end, no idea of the value those sessions would hold.This is how stories like this should go, the stories that belong to the world, the ones we will tell and retell.They should begin with great promise and overcome hardship and end with an entirely new promise. That's the opus of Pat Pace, one of the fortunate few whose story will outlive him.