I don’t know what possessed me to say that I would sing for this morning’s funeral in this already incredibly complicated week. If it had been a family friend or a colleague I would not have hesitated, but this was the funeral of someone who was essentially a stranger to me – but the relative of someone who knows me and asked me if I could sing for this funeral . . . or if I knew someone who could in my place. I could have suggested all kinds of people – and I very nearly did- but for some reason, I said Yes. Part of it was that the woman struggled mightily to get in touch with me and ended up leaving messages with three different people at Carthage, in the hopes that one of them would get the message to me. (All three of them did.) After all that effort, maybe I just didn’t have the heart to say no. But with school in full swing, I could have or should have said “I’m sorry, but I have a marvelous voice student name — who would do a lovely job.” But I didn’t; I said yes.
I am so incredibly thankful that I did.
I am thankful because when I got to Grace Lutheran Church this morning, I found out that Bill Roth, the organist at this church for fifty years – almost as long as I’ve been alive – had recently announced his resignation because of health issues. I knew that Bill was getting up there in years (he’s a World War Two veteran) and also knew that some burdensome health problems were slowly taking their toll. But nevertheless the news left me absolutely stunned, absolutely speechless.
Actually, when Bill told me the news in the church lounge, he held up his hands to show me how arthritis has ravaged them, making it all but impossible for him to play as he once could. As he stood there before me, looking so sad and exhausted, I found myself asking Bill if he needed or wanted me to play the organ for the funeral. I asked because I wondered how he possibly could, given the gnarled look of his hands. But without the slightest hesitation, Bill said “oh no, I’m playing – and I’m playing for a couple more Sundays.” And with that, we headed up the stairs to the balcony where he and I have made music on so many occasions over the last 25 years.
My very first singing gig in Kenosha/Racine was at Grace Lutheran Church in November of 1986 (roughly five months after I moved here to begin work at WGTD) when Bill asked me to come and sing “But who may abide the day of His coming” from Handel’s Messiah one Sunday in Advent. And what a joy that turned out to be! Bill played with such vigor and the acoustics of that sanctuary are such that I sort of felt like I was singing in the shower; I just opened up my mouth and the sound just seemed to pour out with scarcely any effort. It was the first of many visits to Grace I was to pay over the years, usually to sing this or “The Trumpet Shall Sound” or “It is Enough” from Mendelssohn’s Elijah. Each and every time was a pleasure as well as a bit of an adventure, and I never turned down an invitation to return.
My connection to BIll extended beyond these nearly yearly opportunities to make music together at Grace. I would certainly see him at many Carthage functions, since he was a 1950 Carthage graduate and college organist and music faculty member until 1991. (He retired right before I began teaching there that following fall.) I saw him there most recently for the big reception in early August when faculty and staff officially bade farewell to President Campbell and welcomed President Woodward.) Many times at Carthage’s homecoming he would play an organ piece for the alumni recital. . . usually one of his distinctive hymn tune improvisations. And back in 2000-2001, when I was planning the Carthage Choir’s 75th anniversary tour, Bill provided wonderful anecdotes both from his days as a student there (he sang under the choir’s founder, Elmer Henkes) and then during his brief yet eventful tenure as the choir’s conductor, when he took the group on its very first European tour. Bills’ eyes never twinkled so brightly as when he recalled those exciting days. And I was so pleased that Bill, along with long-time choir conductor John Windh, were on hand as guest conductors for the choir’s historic 75th anniversary gala concert in the spring of 2001.
All kinds of memories from our many conversations and musical collaborations came flooding over me today as I walked up those stairs to the balcony with Bill and helped him get situated at the organ, where – presumably for the last time – we made music together . . . first on “In the Garden” and then on the Lord’s Prayer. The fingers don’t move like they used to, and I could tell that even jumping from manual to manual required new and probably painful effort. But he carried on without complaint, and once again I was filled with admiration and deep respect for Bill’s courage and grace in the face of very tough and painful challenges. His life has been full of them, yet he has lived his life with a stubborn sort of vigor and joy that I will never forget. . . especially not after today.
pictured above: I snapped this picture just as Bill was getting ready to play the prelude for the funeral. It just occurred to me that I have been referring to Bill rather than Professor William Roth. I guess that’s a reflection of what a good-hearted man he is and of the deep affection with which he is regarded.