Folding clothes my heart was pierced.
On the radio the strains of Serenade to Music by Ralph Vaughan Williams transported me to another lifetime.
Suddenly I was eighteen and under the direction of Dr. John Hunter at the University of Wisconsin, Whitewater. My only previous experience with choral singing was with a mighty fine church choir but I was little prepared for singing in the select choir at UW-Whitewater. I will never forget the first rehearsal when fifty voices joined as one. It changed my life forever.
The man who wove the strands was a Texan by birth. He was huge of heart, exacting and had a laugh we sang for. His conducting was fluid poetry and his soul desirous of communion and he got that from his singers.
I fell in love. I fell in love with heart given soar through music. I fell in love with friends who are life companions yet. I fell in love with choral literature diverse and resonant. And of course I fell in love with Doc Hunter.
I wonder. Did he have any notion that years after his death one of his singers would gasp upon hearing music previously shaped by his hands?
Oh, to be eighteen again, broken open by amazement.
Oh, to be fifty-six, broken open by gratitude.