WARNING: This post may contain information about me that some of you would never guess to be true – but – I assure you that every word is true.

By the beginning of my senior year in high school I was in the midst making decisions that would ultimately determine who I would be as an adult. Fortunately, for me, a new person entered my life at the beginning of that year, and that person would prove to be a valued and compassionate resource in my decision making process – both then and now . . . and there and here.

That was the year that David Joy came to Augusta to be the high school choir director. It was easy for me to connect with Mr. Joy and to value his ideas about the path I might follow in college. He made a profound impact on my life then and there – and – in a very unexpected situation – he also did more recently. When I moved to Austin in May, 2001, early on I connected with the music program at Covenant Presbyterian Church where my new spouse, Mary Helen, had already served for a number of years. Much to my surprise, a member of the choir here at Covenant was David Joy – YES – the same David Joy. We quickly realized and acknowledged that in our earlier connection with both had more hair as evidenced by an article in the Augusta Gazette with a front page picture of me, David, and Joan White. For a number of years I knew exactly where my copy of that newspaper was – but, somehow, I no longer no where it is. If anyone has a copy of that article I would love to have a copy. Also, if anyone knows the current whereabouts for Joan I would love to have that information as well.

One thing that became apparent when David and I reconnected was that we were closer in age than I thought we were when we were both in Augusta. I started to describe our earlier relationship in terms of David being a very young first year teacher when he came to Augusta, while I was an old senior in high school.

David’s wisdom and experience was also very helpful when we were considering my retirement possibilities here in Austin just a few years ago.

I hear some of you saying – so what is the information that you warned us about at the beginning of this post? Early during my time in high school I worked as a camp counselor at a church camp in Colorado. One summer my call to ministry was very clear to me – but clearly not to my mother who was determined that I would become a musician. Once I was able to resign myself to this decision I willingly tried to give myself over to the idea of being a musician. However, over the years it became clear to me that as a result, many of the people who told me that they loved me, actually, loved me for what I did rather than who I was. That was hard to realize and very hard to accept (more about this in later posts that will talk about those hard years). For many I had become a perform-on-demand trick- pony. My response to the spotlight had changed from glamor and desire to “oh no, here we go again.” Happily, now that I have retired I have returned to active music making with the full knowledge that at this point in my life it is my true calling (more about that in a later post about the future).

My calling to become a pastor was indeed fulfilled several years later than I had originally hoped – I entered seminary when I was 58 years old, graduating when I was 61. I was ordained and installed in my first call in March, 2009, continuing there until the end of 2012 when I was able to retire.

I first knew David Joy as a wonderful young teacher, and I now know him as a fully mature human being who has followed his calling from the Creator. He taught me so much by being providing a marvelous example of what it means to follow your true calling to become the person that you are intended to be! For that I am very grateful!

David and his entire family have become dear friends and colleagues – they continue to enrich my life!!

It was on the southwest corner of the old high school building – had clearly been added several years after the completion of the original building – had its own outside entrance – I considered it to be my second home – the band room – domain of Max Hendrickson.

From the earliest days of my sixth grade year I had a deep appreciation for Mr. Hendrickson – something about him – always kind – expecting us to do our best but never in any manner other than courteous – an encourager – sometimes we were not as prepared as he would have liked for us to be – but we all managed to get through it all together. Now, years later, I have experienced a multitude of different band directors (including some of this country’s very best) and my appreciation for Max Hendrickson has continued to grow. He provided me with a very solid foundation for my future work. We were all blessed beyond our wildest imagination.

Some special memories for me –

My first experience with Leroy Anderson’s A Christmas Festival (written for the Boston Pops Orchestra) was in a Christmas concert in what – during my years – was the “new” gym on the north end of the old junior high building.

Trips to Hutchinson for the state fair band day beginning with a parade and then a fun day at the fairgrounds.

Pep band for home basketball games – what a horrible experience it must have been for visiting basketball teams to travel to Augusta always to discover that they got to begin the game by shooting the ball towards a goal with the backdrop of the student section – I don’t remember us ever winning a good sportsmanship award but a lot of great basketball was played in that gym. Names of legends – Hastings, Barnes, Penney, Shoger and on and on.

Speaking of the gym – the annual Band-o-rama program – lots of wonderful music all guided by the hands and the teaching of Max.

Jazz band – again – I learned a foundation of musical style that later enabled me to successfully audition for the United States Air Force Bands program – there will be a number of other stories about this in later posts from other eras of my life.

Times – hours and hours – in the band room other than times for class – it was my study hall especially during my last two years in high school – a place of comfort and peace amidst the business of those years.

The time that I was taken to the Fruhauf Uniform Company offices in Wichita, introduced to Mr. Fred Fruhauf, grandson of the founder of the company, fitted for the new drum major’s uniform – which I wore with pride for the remainder of my high school years – a real honor. Later I would also serve as drum major in college and in the Air Force – Max taught me well.

Oh YES, we had fun – but we will save most of those stories for private conversations.

Stand up and cheer! . . .