Barb Lehnen Jacques remembers the Teacher

[Editor’s note: Last Thursday, Barbie learned that Mr. Valentine, her choir teacher, living with Parkinsons and dementia, was passing. She went to see him, for what was to be their last visit, on Saturday. He is so, so special to her. She sent this letter to friends who also love Mr. Valentine on Sunday morning. Now she wants to share Mr. Valentine with you, our reader. As Bill Tennant says, "It really says it all."]

I am writing a celebration of Mr. Valentine now, now when he is still here. I am saying thank you to Mr. Valentine to all of you, because I will soon communicate through thoughts and prayers, instead of words heard and spoken by humans.

From my earliest memories of being in St. Johns, Mr. Valentine has been my music connection. I sang in his sixth grade choir, and stayed in his choirs through high school. He had a gentle manner, and brilliance as a teacher that was always humble and unassuming. He never made notice of himself to the audience, only the choir, and each one of us students. He dressed in perfect formal attire for our concerts, because he held highest respect for us and our work as musicians. He attended my solo and ensemble events, announcing to the judges, "Barbara Lehnen, soloist, Jeff Richards, accompanist", each time dressed in formal attire, filled with respect and pride.

At church, I sang in the choir anytime I was present for service. After graduation, he kept me not only connected to my music, but also to the church family, by bringing me in to sing a solo on a regular basis. He was my teacher and mentor. I am certain he did this for all of his students, not just me.

I held him in high regard then, and now add to that high regard a deep appreciation and love for a teacher who became more to me than I ever can express.

When my baby was born, it was the knowledge of Mr. Valentine's relevance to education that opened my eyes to the prospect of teaching. I shifted gracefully from my performance oriented aspirations to teaching. I knew there would be purpose in a life of teaching from the example lead by Mr. Valentine. I knew my voice would be well used in education, and I was humbled by the opportunity to one day have an impact on young people to the great degree Mr. Valentine had for me.

My life as a teacher is blessed by his example, his dedication to students, his passion for his craft and great knowledge of his craft. Some people teach, and some are teachers. Certainly, my understanding of this truth is due to watching Mr. Valentine.

I have enjoyed many visits with Mr. Valentine at Hazel Findlay. We have given many concerts in which he has stood with that same pride and introduced me to the attending audience members in the cafeteria. We have sat together on the piano bench and performed song after song after song with the same professionalism and polish as ever - as ever. Mr. Valentine's musical mind is completely in tact - which is no surprise, because it is the part of his mind that is most directly connected to his heart as well. We have sat in his room and discussed music, casting possibilities for upcoming plays at the high school, and sang perfect harmony to all of our shared favorite choral arrangements. We have gone to the multipurpose room to tune his guitar, and I have been in the perfect position of student again and again as he has told me how to improve the pitch of each string. He has assured me that he is interested in working with me on a weekly basis and that I show real promise. He is my teacher.

It may look like he is out of it. Make no mistake, he is not out of it, and never has been. He may be out of the "it" that we know. But he has had many moments of great glory as a teacher, he has had the blessing of going to his favorite places in his mind, he is a master musician, top of his game, leading the whole thing. I have found him walking briskly in the halls, where he has assured me I am fortunate to have found him in for he has just returned from solo and ensemble, or has been in Florida. He has asked me to come to his house later on to look over some music. He had many many moments where he lived his life far far away from Hazel Findlay, far far away from limitations, far far away from the day on the calendar. In many ways, he has been free all along. My tears for him have been for my wanting more for him, so so much more. I want him to be showered with loving people all day long. And I have grieved so many times for his loneliness. I have wished so many times that I could do more, be more, somehow change fate for my teacher and dear friend.

Yesterday, we had another concert. It was a fabulous one. For an hour and a half, we lived in the music. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, Amazing Grace, Silent Night, For Unto Us A Child is Born, Gloria, Hallelujah Chorus, And With His Stripes We are Healed, I Write the Songs, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Moon River, Alleluia, Make Our Garden Grow, Simple Song, Day By Day, All Good Gifts, By My Side, The Sound of Music, Edelweiss, Winken Blinken and Nod, Romance, and of course, On Eagles Wings and Every Valley - and many more. He sang with me in so many ways. He let me hold his hand and even let me bounce it around a bit during the rhythmic section of I Write the Songs. His eyes were singing. He closed his mouth to prepare to sing with his voice, but instead, I'm sure he found greater comfort and equal joy singing in his heart. I sang through tears at some points, and just sang La as I waited for those moments to pass, and then resumed into texted songs. I asked him if I was singing it right and told him I was sorry if I had missed the order of verses in a hymn. Somewhere in the last twenty minutes, Mr. Valentine welcomed sleep as he trusted I would keep singing. I quietly turned back on his radio, so he could wake to music and left him gently resting.

He was my teacher yesterday. He will remain my greatest example of teacher, and I vow to work with the same dedication to my students and my craft as he has shown. I will hold greatest reverence for him always, always.

There is so much of Mr. Valentine that I will always, always have; and be assured this is true for so many, many people. He has been this same person I have described to you to so many people.

I have nothing but greatest appreciation and honor.

I woke Monday morning, physically agitated. I lay in thought for a few minutes, feeling the agitation and knowing it belongs to my worry over Mr. Valentine. Then a wave of peace washed over me, almost against my will. I phoned the nurses station at Hazel Findlay. Mr. Valentine passed at 1:50 am that morning. I've asked him to watch me teach today. He is closer now than he was before. Now he has complete clarity, perfect vision and perfect understanding for how much he was treasured. He hears all of our prayers now.