October 22, 2006

Hi Mr. Johnson,

Well, last week was a heck of a week. You "left the building" and the wake you left behind upended alot of people who knew you. I know upending people's lives is probably not something you wanted to have happen, but your affect on people's lives (even on those who barely knew you) was substantial. I know you always down-played your popularity. You were pretty good at avoiding the well-deserved recognition people wanted to give you. I think that is called humility. Even when you got wind that you were going to get a Lifetime Achievement Award at the ITEC convention in Denver this past June, you expressed your relief to me that you would have already left the convention before the award was supposed to be given out. Well, you tried to outrun that award but Kathy made sure it was given to you earlier than was printed in the schedule.

Back in May, you and Pat came to celebrate my receiving the prestigious Outstanding Alumnus 2006 award from USC. Everything was OK with you until I had my three minutes in front of a microphone when I had a chance to tell those gathered WHO it was that made my accomplishments possible. You did pretty well sitting through that little speech as I talked about you. It would have been futile to make you a non-entity in my career. You were the elephant in the room, and I meant that in a good way. Sorry. You made a difference in my life. I had to say it.

Tommy Johnson receiving ITEA's Lifetime Achievement Award from ITEA president Dennis Askew at ITEC 2006

Back to this past week... Yes, this past week has been really difficult, but enlightening. Tuba players worldwide, too young to even know what a BankAmericard was, got a chance to hear your "first take" on a commercial jingle for that item. They could also read the story of the circumstances of that recording on one of the tuba websites. Copies of music you actually recorded have shown up on the internet. You would have cringed with the "We are not worthy" sentiments expressed by many either literally or figuratively. Of course, those of us who were your students knew how encouraging and positive you were about the possibilities that we could do that. It was possible to be successful at anything we wanted to do. You had the courage, however, to give us the real-world advice that we should also be able to handle the cards that are dealt us in the game of life. You told me to believe in fate and that things happen because they are supposed to happen. Your own dealing with "fate," especially with all the physical ailments that came your way, was inspiration beyond words.

I will remember your visits to Chicago to play extra with the orchestra with alot of smiles. You bought a new set of tails especially to play with the CSO! Also, only conductors and the top-rate soloists who perform with the Chicago Symphony stay at the top hotels . I wonder what was going through those conductors' minds when they spotted you eating breakfast with them in the Dining Room because you and Pat were also staying at the Four Seasons??!!

Remember when we got permission from the Cubs management (via Beth's season ticket status) to visit and get onto Wrigley Field in January, 1996? First stop after our morning rehearsal of "The Rite of Spring" was to fortify. We ended up at Michael Jordan's restaurant. Somehow the macaroni and cheese wasn't quite enough at MJ's , so we detoured to "Portillo's" for one of their famous hot dogs. And the visit to Wrigley... Somehow the gray skies and the leafless ivy along the cold bricks of the outfield on that icy winter day held an aura of magic even for a lifetime Dodger fan as yourself. I was excited when you told me sometime this past summer that you would like to come out this next January for another playing of the "Rite." We would have had alot of fun.

I remember a cassette tape you put together talking about just everyday things that you sent to me when I was in the Israel Philharmonic and away from the USA for the first time over thirty years ago. It brought me "home" and helped me relax a bit even though I was on the other side of the world. You also arranged for me to buy your own F tuba before I left for Israel since no Miraphone F tubas had come into Sun Valley that entire summer of 1975. That left you without an F tuba in your arsenal for a little while. About that horn you sold me...Truthfully, it was not the easiest instrument to play at all, but that made it all the more impressive because that was the horn with which you recorded "Jaws"!! You could make any instrument sound great.

There are alot of things over these decades I remember, but what I will probably miss most will be our late-night talks. I would call you on the cell phone when I would be in the backyard with the pups after a concert in Chicago and I would catch you at home (it being two hours earlier). Somehow, fifty minutes or an hour and a half would go by and it would seem like no time had passed at all. We would just be talking about life, finding the ultimate mouthpiece, hilarious times at the studios or on-stage, working with colleagues, dealing with students' playing problems. You kept (ever so gently) telling me about the latest gadgets and technology, as in using the computer to call people on the phone, the latest digital cameras, high-speed connections, etc., etc. You always held out hope that I would somehow make it to the "information super-highway" as opposed to the "information dirt road" where I comfortably reside. With as busy as you were, I have no idea how you managed to come up with musical arrangements, digital soundtracks of piano and orchestral accompaniments of tuba solos and all the other stuff you managed to put together for your current students while teaching and keeping your busy recording schedule.

I keep trying to remind myself what you said to me a couple of times over the past couple of years, that you have been really satisfied with how your life has gone even it were to end relatively soon. You led a simple life; not a simplistic one. It was based on doing the right things, being a kind person and being an awesome musician who just happened to play the tuba. As much as I wish you not be away, I feel lucky for the time we had together and for the difference you made in my life. After all, it was "fate." That is what you taught me.

Happy Journeys,

Gene