Memories from the Union University Music Department

A Facebook status today caused me to recall some great memories from college. Here are some favorites.

There was the time that the entire music faculty was meeting in that classroom adjacent to the hallway we all bummed around in (Brownie points for the number...or the tonic, LOL!). Sam Mizell, oblivious to this fact, stood up and walked over to the barely cracked door. "Watch this," he said. He then lifted one leg in slow motion and executed a move he could have only gotten from watching too many Bruce Lee movies, complete with a loud cry of "Hi-YAH!" His leg forcefully kicked the door open, to the surprise of a room full of people who held his GPA in their hands. CLASSIC.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voice boards were basically final exams for a voice student. Each student would pick a song from their repitore and perform it in front of the music faculty. Then the came the dreaded part - the teachers picked the second song. One semester there was this Berlioz song called "Villanelle." Three verses in French, all different. The tempo was allegretto, in cut time, with only a two-measure intro. I just knew they were going to pick that one. Dr. Roby, with his coffee-steam fogged glasses looked at me and smiled as it rolled off of Dr. Penny's lips.

I nodded to show that I understood the pain I was about to endure. Christa Friel, my ever vigilant accompanist, took that nod to mean "GO, WOMAN!" I had exactly two seconds to start singing. I started with the second verse. Then I sang the third verse. Then....I totally and completely made up a verse.

No one ever said anything about it. I either pulled it off, or they were gracious. I passed. The End.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During an afternoon (4:10!) recital, I sang a piece that had a huge pause between part A and part B. Dr. Roby told me to use facial expressions to indicate that the song was not finished. As I was wrapping up the first verse I spotted Chris Wann. He was sitting right under a spotlight and had turned his hat around backwards; leaning forward, he had his hands held out in front of him, ready to clap as obnoxiously as possible as soon as the final note faded. I have no idea how I managed to keep a straight face as his lone clapping filled the silent room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some fast funnies to end with...

Brad Bruhn and I got paired up for a class piano duet. During the performance, I finished the piece and Brad kept playing for a good two minutes.

Ben Clark got all the Proclamation guys in trouble for loudly whispering, "MARIA!" in the wrong place during West Side Story rehearsals.

Dr. Hartley accidentally had the Ninety-Nine Nuns in the Minnesota Monastery.

Anyone have others to share?

Old Red

My friend Shannon emailed me this week to tell me that their family dog had died. Old Red's story is pretty incredible. Shaun and Shannon got Red when they still lived in Tennessee. The dog made the move with their family to Alabama, and by God's gracious providence, he eventually made the move with them back north to Mississippi. Shannon has given me permission to share this email from January 2nd, 2003.

Hi you guys,

This is a little long, but it really happened to our family and I'm still in awe over it. I couldn't wait to share it with you.

I may or may not have mentioned to you that our dog, Red, ran away about a week before Christmas (approx. Dec. 12). We drove around the neighborhood looking for him, but to no avail. Since he still had not come home by December 20 (the day we had to leave to come home for Christmas), we guessed we wouldn't see him again.

We returned to Mobile Dec. 26, but Red still had not come home. We kept hoping that he'd return, but he didn't. So we had decided that he probably wasn't coming back. The kids and I were sadden by the loss of our dog, so we started thinking about getting a new puppy.

January 1, 2003 (my birthday) we were trying to decide what to do to sort of celebrate the day, when Shaun suggested that we go look for a puppy. I sort of brushed off the idea at first, because I had planned to give Red a couple more weeks to return. But then I decided that it was highly unlikely that he was coming back, so I agreed with my husband and suggested that we pick up a newspaper and check the classified ads for puppies for sale.

We made three phone calls as we were driving around and starting making appointments to see the puppies that were available. There was an ad for Jack Russell Terriers that peaked our interest, so we made a call to go see the puppies. It turned out to be the nearest location to us, (probably 5 miles from our house), so we decided to go there first.

The man who owned the puppies brought them outside for us to see. They were four of the cutest little puppies and we had almost decided that we wanted one of them. Then Seth, our oldest son, mentioned to the man that our dog had run away.

The man asked what the dog looked like, and I described Red to him. He told us that it sounded just like a dog he had picked up that had been hit by a car on Airport Road. He had taken the dog to the emergency vet. He said the dog had been hurt pretty badly, but he thought it had survived. He knew the lady who had taken the dog home, and he told us how to get there. We thanked the man and went to see if by chance the dog was Red.

Indeed, it was! We were so thankful that strangers had been so kind to him.

We were so glad to have Red back, but more than that, it was a great opportunity to share our faith in our Awesome God with our children. It was an opportunity to share how He cares about the things that are important to us, and that He does intervene in our daily lives. He is constantly at work around us.

Think about it. What were the chances that (1) we would decide to go look for puppies that day, and (2) we would pick an ad for Jack Russell Terriors that would take us to the man who transported Red to the emergency vet.

Needless to say we didn't buy a puppy, but we are glad to have our Red home again.

Happy New Year!

Grace & Peace,

Shannon

Take Me To the Fair, Part Two

My kids are fearless. They rode everything they were tall enough to ride. Katie even went with Kevin and me on the double log ride and a mid-sized roller coaster! Here she is enjoying what I would call the "Whiplash Cars."



Owen's favorite, by far, was one of those rides with the rope bridges, obstacles, and the big slide at the end. He went on it almost TWENTY times. Mom and I just sat on the bench and rested while he played and Kevin took Katie on some bigger rides. Here is my boy, and this is his Fierce Sliding Face:



And what's a good fair without some totally unhealthy fair food? Corn on the cob, dripping with butter, and a big ol' slice of pepperoni pizza:





When it was time to go, I got an extra-special surprise....

In the days of my own childhood, we only went to the fair a handful of times. But we always went with our friends Mr. Harold, "Miss" Dianne, and their boys. I have such fond memories of riding all the rides and can still hear echoes of the adults' conversation. All day long I had a flood of memories wash over me. As we sat on the bench waiting on Kevin to bring a funnel cake - our last hurrah - who should I spot but Mr. Harold? He probably thought I was crazy to chase him down, but I just had to say hello. It was such a fitting end to the night, and to the Midtown Edition of the Mid-South Fair!

Flashback for Amy!

One time in college my roomate Amy and I went to Wal-Mart. We were listening to DC Talk on the way ("I wanna be in the light, as you are in the light..."). We bought a whole bunch of stuff, including groceries and toiletry items for our dorm room.

When we were ready to leave, we got to the parking lot and Amy unlocked her car. We loaded all the bags into the back and climbed in. She cranked the car up and put it in gear, then stopped, looking incredibly puzzled.

The radio was playing some alternative rock music. NOT DC Talk. She said, "Where's my song?" After a few more seconds we realized that we were not in her car. It seems that her key UNLOCKED AND CRANKED someone else's car!

We flew like the wind to get out, unload the groceries, and lock the car back before the owner came...then we got OUT OF THERE!!!

Carving Tree

My parents own fourteen acres of wooded land. Most people would consider it worthless land because it is a series of gulleys and steep hills. The house I grew up in is on top of the biggest hill, with a creek running as a property line around the back and side of the lowest point.

These woods were my home. When we would finish our school for the day, Mama would let us go play to our hearts' content. I could often be found up a tree with a book! The only warning was for us to watch out for snakes. Mama HATES snakes.

Any visitors to our woods always stopped at the Carving Tree so that they could add their name to the impressive mass of jumbled carvings. This tree was on the side of a small bluff overlooking the creek. In the "olden days," one could (on a dare) walk around the tree, hanging precariously to the roots that were exposed on the bluff side. These days that would be more than foolish, as erosion has taken its toll.



My friend Elisabeth is to be thanked for this photo full of memories. She is also the artist behind the family photo slideshow at the top of my blog.

And what were our husbands doing during our excursion? Apparently, practicing for the praise band!