On each continent we worship breaking bread and sharing wine. We are joined in sweet communion tasting grace while marking time. Purchased by Christ’s blood and body, we’re diverse as we can be. On this holy day we gather mindful of our unity.
On each continent we worship to proclaim Christ Jesus King. Borders blur as anthems echo in the lyrics that we sing. In all corners of Christ’s Kingdom we proclaim His majesty. On this holy day we gather mindful we are family.
On each continent we worship one in mind and one in heart. Children of a common Father each a necessary part of the whole that God intended to achieve His Kingdom come. On this holy day we gather, mindful that the Church is one.
With your music stand a pulpit, your baton a shepherd’s staff, you led your students daily with stern words and belly laughs.
Yes, you modeled truth through music by the way you loved the kids as they looked to you for answers lest they end up on the skids.
With marching band your metaphor you helped each section see just how to work together and to be a family.
Like Richard Dreyfus’ Holland you invested in the young and the dividends you’re earning is success’s highest rung.
Mr. A, you’re most successful for the music you have made echoes far beyond the band room. It’s an ongoing parade.
Marking time or earning millions, those you taught (now fully grown) march through life most confidently making “music” of their own.
* This tribute was written for Steve Accatino. I first met “Mr. A” exactly 30 years ago when our family moved to the Bay Area. Last week Steve retired from Ygnacio Valley High School where he has been the band director for thirty-three years. High school band directors are a much-loved breed. I kept in touch with mine for thirty years until Mr. Huber prematurely died of a brain tumor. (If you never play in a high school band, you need to watch “Mr. Holland’s Opus.” That inspirational movie will clue you in!)