Fitting Memorial

Fiorella had the most wonderful time yesterday. She attended a memorial service for Oliver Bernard Gastler. The whole thing, from pre-service music to the final hymn lasted exactly two hours, but Fio wished it had been longer.

Bernie Gastler was a church organist/choir director. But he was more than that: he was a good man, a kind man, a teacher, and a top-notch musician. He founded the Austin Children's Choir and, after collecting a Ph.D. from UT in his later years, taught on the college level.

And during the five years his health was failing, he planned a bang-up memorial service, a celebration of music. Memorial concert would be more like it, and with full participation by all the attendees. The balcony housed a small orchestra, a giant organ, and a sweet-singing choir, while the sanctuary was stuffed to the gills with people who sang long, loud, and heartily.

The liturgy, prayers, and sermon were all there, but the glory was the music--eight hymns in all, every last verse sung. Also, two choir pieces, plus descants and orchestral interludes every time you turned around. The church resounded with beautiful, joyous, inspiring music.

The sermon was a bummer, all about how Bernie had died because of sin and so would all the rest of us, with nothing left behind.

I disagree. Bernie Gastler did leave something behind. Because he lived, the world is a better place, a little kinder today than yesterday. And in his death, he left a wonderful paean to his own personal passion, music.

Go to God, Bernie. Hark, the herald angels sing.