Mom's Story Part 14

High School Teachers

J Rufus Crandell

            I won’t mention all the teachers who influenced me during that period of time for the list is long and prestigious:  Logan Brimhall, David A Butler, William C Smith, Carrie Kay, Ciecle Merkley, Lewis Monk were among the many.  Probably above all J. Rufus Crandell would stand as my most influential teacher.  He was called by many titles, but the one dubbed him from the Northern Arizona University Music Critics, “Dean of Music for Northern Arizona”, was the one I liked best.  No child escaped his attention; Rufus discovered anyone with a spark of talent.  He felt everyone could learn music, and he taught us all the notes as well as appreciation for good music.  With a fiddle under his arm, he spent his time between the High School and Grade School teaching the “do, re, mi”s.  On Friday we had the happy treat of hearing some of the great music of the world on a little tiny portable phonograph.  As a student matured he saw to it that they were started on a musical instrument.  I was no exception; he had me playing the baritone saxophone, which was almost as big as I was.  From this I learned many valuable lessons. 

            One memorable experience happened when I was asked to play a solo during the Sunday School opening exercises.  My sister accompanying me on the piano, and we had practiced diligently, and I knew the piece perfectly.  She played the introduction to “The Shepherd’s Dream”, and I started to blow, but instead of beautiful music coming from my instrument, I got an ear-shattering screech.  Mr. Crandell gave a sour look and frowned and told me to start again, but the result was the same, I heard a muffled titter in the audience as they awaited the third try.  My embarrassment was indescribable.  I had particularly wanted to make a good impression that day because the “dudes” from Airpine were attending Sunday School.  Mayola finished “The Shepherd’s Dream” as a piano solo and I sat red faced and humiliated.  It was no “dream” for me; rather it was a “nightmare”.  When I had laid the saxophone down before my number, one of the keys were slightly bent, but in my inexperience, I didn’t have any idea what the trouble was.  I never mastered the saxophone.

     Mr. Crandell discovered my most promising talent was in my singing voice.  He spent many hours helping me develop this talent.  Once a year each High School through out northern Arizona met at Flagstaff for a music Contest and usually Mr. Crandell and his students walked away with the majority of the first places and high ratings.  Still vivid in my memory was the contest in which I sang the high voice solo.  “Oh Let Night Speak of Me” was the name of the solo.  I was so nervous the night before in the Girl’s Dorm where we were housed, that I couldn’t sleep.  But as I stood in the wings of that big stage waiting for my turn, I shall always remember dear Mr. Crandell’s reassuring confidence in me.  After each contestant performed I would ask, “Can I beat her?”   And his answer was, “Yes, you can do better than her.”  But when the Flagstaff girl sang her solo, she sang like a lark; a beautiful clear voice, and Mr. Crandell said to me, “You’ll have to sing your best to beat her.”  She won first place and I placed second.  For years up until the time of his death, I sang in Brother Crandell’s choirs and ladies choruses.  Always I admired and respected him and his devotion to school and church.  When my husband became Bishop of the Second Ward, Brother Crandell was his most loyal supporter. 

When I graduated in 1936, I sang my high voice solo, “Oh Let Night Speak of Me.”  Dad gave the beautiful Baccalaureate prayer at my graduation.  Louise, my sister, graduated the same year.

Joseph Peterson taught English and I shall be forever grateful for the background and love of literature he gave us.  In my mind’s eye I can still see his beautiful white head of hair, his stately manner, and his kindly smile as he imparted his love of literature to his students.

Class of 1936 Snowflake High School

Principal Silas Fish

Silas Fish, the principal, was a strict disciplinarian.  One look or a sharp word from Principal Fish, and we quickly decided that any nonsense we were contemplating was not worth the price.  However, I saw the kindly side of the man, his wonderful sense of humor, and his love for his family.  His daughter Varena was one of my best friends, as well as my accompanist when I sang.  I was in the Fish home frequently.