Lycoming College Choir. Those three words bring back so many feelings and memories that I can't even begin to describe them in one short blog. But I can say that my four years at Lycoming College were, without a doubt, some of the best years of my life. Here are a few snapshot memories that come to mind:
Walking through the park to a football game and listening to the leaves as I dragged my feet through them to make as much noise as possible; watching the snow fall out my window in Rich Hall; the musty smell in the basement of Clarke Chapel; waiting outside a teacher's door in the Academic Center to talk to them; talking to Mom and Dad on the phones in the dorm stairwells; the coldness of the planetarium; running to class late; sleeping in and ignoring class; fraternities coming through Rich Hall in the middle of the night and knocking on every door; conducting the band at graduation; drinking Mountain Dew so I could stay up late and study for an exam; London Broil for Sunday brunch; the beautiful colors of the fall leaves on the quad; watching squirrels play outside Clarke; the Pub; always having friends close by; Marc Abrams showing me his stack of punch cards needed to program a computer in the library; the day Three Mile Island melted down; John Lennon's death; the hostage crisis in Iran; Mount Saint Helens eruption; Hill Street Blues; the first time we heard of AIDS; Michael Jackson's Thriller; worrying about grades; going for grad school interviews with Becky Sweet; dressing up like clowns for Homecoming; the list goes on and on.
But I have choir memories too: everyone singing a D at the beginning of rehearsal; staring at the sopranos; arranging my cold metal chair so I was just close enough but not too close to others in the alto section; doing karate chops to the backs of people on your left and right to loosen up; working as a team; having Fred upset with us for not memorizing our music when he told us to; trying to figure out what our tour gowns would look like; staying in people's houses; crying during the benediction; wondering why those stupid alums came up at the end of the concerts all the time; parties in Brian Barth's room; singing Billy Joel's Piano Man in a circle with everyone hugging; singing wonderfully amazing, incredible songs; singing some amazingly horrible songs; trying not to throw up on the tour bus; wishing we were home at the end of tour when we still had hours to drive; the magic of going home for Christmas; pre-tour excitement; bag-dragging in the snow; post choir concerts at the Pub; singing at Fred Thayer's parent's church; singing a solo in a really "great" spiritual; a weak tenor section; tenors that could blow your socks off; making Homecoming floats at the Thayer's; Sue Huff heaving after eating sugar cane in Puerto Rico; Fred Thayer's smirky little smile when we did a good job; giving pitches; having the choir sing one of my compositions at Baccalaureatete; watching for the next sign Pat Thayer would hold up during a concert; following Becky Sweet in the Clarke Chapel restroom; the feeling that enveloped you when everyone was really on their game during a concert; loyalty; pride; companionship; devotion; acceptance; being a part of something bigger and better than yourself; trust; and most importantly, love.
Choir memories are memories just like those I have of the school in general, but there is much more emotion attached to them. My experiences with the Lycoming College Choir are a part of me, every day of my life. I will never forget the friends I made in choir, and I will always remember Fred and Pat Thayer. I will always be indebted to Fred and Pat as well, for sharing a part of themselves with me and allowing me to see what wonderful people they really are. I miss Lyco. But more than Lyco, I miss the Lycoming College Choir.
Fred Thayer retired this year. This is the final time the choir and alumni sang Beautiful Savior under his direction:
Pat and Fred, I love you, and thank you so very, very much. I hope you have a wonderful and blessed retirement.
