by Father Mark Goldasich
It’s one of my nagging regrets: Did I tell the influential people in my life how important they were? The short answer is: Probably not . . . or at least not to the degree they deserved.
The following story illustrates what I mean:
One Thanksgiving, a successful businessman reflected on his life and thought of all the people who’d been influential in helping him become who he was. He decided to write each person a card, telling him or her of his gratitude.
His fourth grade teacher quickly came to mind for insisting that he strive for excellence in everything, whether homework, tests or class projects. So, he sent her his first thank-you note.
One day just after the new year, he received a letter from his former teacher. She apologized for not replying sooner, but stated that his letter took some time getting to her, since she had moved in with her daughter after retiring from teaching grade school for 66 years.
She told him how thankful she was to have received his card and how it cheered her to find out he had learned so well the lessons in excellence. She went on to say that in her entire teaching career, this was the first thank-you card she’d ever received, and how grateful she was that he had taken the time to remember her. (Story found in Brian T. Cavanaugh’s “Sower’s Seeds of Encouragement: Fifth Planting.”)
Seeing the smiling face of Don Lipovac on page 7 of this issue started me thinking along these lines. Don was my teacher for eight years while I was a member of the St. John’s Catholic Club Tamburitzans. He taught me not only to appreciate listening to music but the incredible joy of making music. More than that, he instilled in his students a deep appreciation of our “roots,” especially the language, dances and culture of our Croatian or Slovenian ancestors.
Only years later did I come to appreciate what an incredible blessing it was to study under him. The guy was a genius. He could listen to a recording of a song and then score the notes, by hand, for each of the various instruments of our orchestra. He was a world-class accordionist, to be sure, but also had a gift for patiently (at least most of the time) teaching us immature, reluctant and sometimes unruly students. (I’m sure that I complained many times about having to give up precious time on Saturdays for practice in the church basement.)
I can’t count the number of concerts and programs we gave over the years — locally, nationally and even in Croatia. And most remarkable of all, we memorized all the music and lyrics. We even cut six LPs; listening to them still gives me chills at the professionalism of us young musicians.
I can’t imagine the hours that Don and his wife JoAnn spent with us kids. I’m sure that along the way I thanked them but nowhere near to the depth of gratitude they were due.
Are there “teachers” in your life who molded you into the person you are today? If so, don’t wait until they’re gone to pay them tribute. You may be the only person in their whole career to do so.
Seeing the Lipovac exhibit at the Strawberry Hill Museum will help me reminisce about the impact he had on me. The best tribute paid to Don (at his death in 2014) came from my longtime friends Dan and Wendy Vrabac: “He was a teacher who always knew his students were capable of far more than they could imagine. He made us believe and gave us the gift that lasts a lifetime.”
That’s a legacy to be proud of.
