I just found out that my high school music teacher, Bill Gibson, passed away. He and his wife Jill were the music teachers at my middle school and high school, so they shepherded me and many other kids through our early musical development. Bill was a percussionist (I call myself a drummer, a term he didn’t care for because it’s not as broad), so he was especially helpful to me with the music we played in the symphonic band and various smaller groups. It was because of his support that I ended up auditioning for the all-state orchestra and jazz bands, and got in a few times. He was always very encouraging, even when I occasionally drove him crazy. I owe him, and Jill, a large debt for giving me the lift they gave me into musicianship. I would quite literally not be where I am today without them.
One thing Bill could never get me to do with play tennis. He was the boys’ tennis coach, and he would bring it up every once in a while, but I never did learn to play properly. Basically, by the time I started playing drums, most other ways to spend my time took the back seat. I have since made feeble attempts to play, and maybe there was a time when I could have been good, but it has passed, much to the entertainment of friends who like to play.
I thinking of Jill today, and her and Bill’s two sons. I have no idea what this must feel like, but they’re in my thoughts. Several cousins are in high school now playing music, so they’re coping with his loss even more directly than I am. I’m thinking of them now too. I miss him.
Recently I was thinking that Bill was the teacher with whom I spent by far the most time in high school. He was my teacher all year for symphonic band, but also for jazz rock, as well. Many of us in band joined him on numerous events, like football games, the Memorial Day parade, Christmas tunes in front of Black's, concerts, talent shows, and pep rallies. The trip we all took to New York City when I was a senior was a blast and an amazing opportunity for a high school program. Despite my occasional insubordination, Gib was always encouraging about my playing. He would let me borrow the school's drum set over the weekends so I could practice, which, along with Joe's generosity in playing his drums, allowed me to develop the abilities I have now. I have many fond memories of Bill, some of which were things that probably drove him crazy ("L.A.Z.Y.!!!" "Have you guys even LOOKED at this?"). I'm really going to miss Bill and the thought of him conducting for multiple years of some slacking, some goofball, and some very talented aspiring musicians. My condolences go out to Jill and the boys.
Posted by Isaac at December 6, 2007 9:12 PM
Wow, he seems far too young! His wife was my homeroom teacher in middle school, and I remember one afternoon when we were supposed to be having discussions about our report cards she just handed back, she let us bang around with instruments instead.
Posted by Stephanie at December 6, 2007 6:09 PM