Goodbye, Don

This past week I lost my dear friend, Don Armstrong. Our relationship goes back a long way, and is pretty complex and unique its origin, dating back to before I was born—see if you can keep up. My grandfather Joe became friends with Don’s wife, Rachel in Salt Lake City in the 1940’s. Rachel and my grandpa both took from the same voice teacher, sang a lot together, and, along with their spouses, remained friends throughout their lives.  After my grandpa Joe’s death, my dad (Joe’s son) looked up Rachel because he wanted my sister to go and study voice with her. He remembered Rachel and her voice from his childhood, hearing her sing with my grandfather. And being a singer himself, my dad was always hyper aware of “great” voices in the world, and he counted Rachel among the best of the best, (which she was).  My dad found that Rachel and Don, after living 30 years just outside Princeton New Jersey, had retired to a small town in Kansas where Rachel grew up, Sedan.  So two of my sisters drove to Sedan, stayed in Don and Rachel’s guest home two doors down from them, and one took lessons from Rachel while the other accompanied. My sister’s voice was transformed during that month of study, and when I graduated from high school and was free to go myself, I followed in her footsteps ( something I did and still do often :) ).  

Long story short, (too late!) I spent most of the subsequent 3 years between Kansas and Salt Lake, living there and studying, coming home, going back, etc. until I came home for the last time and got married.  During my time there, I became somewhat of an adopted granddaughter of sorts to Don and Rachel. (they never had children of their own, but had adopted many like me over the years).  Along with having two lessons every day, I would eat all my meals with them, spend quiet evenings with them watching the News Hour with Jim Lehrer and some kind of movie after dinner, go on outings- basically living much of their life with them while I began to form mine. Their open arms and generosity, along with all I was learning vocally, was what kept me going back time and time again, despite the sacrifices it took to live away from all my friends and family in a very small and (for a 20 year-old city girl) uneventful town.  But Don and Rachel made it worth it. Shortly after I left for the last time, Rachel slowly declined into dementia, and Don took loving care of her until he had to put her in a home in a neighboring city, where he would visit every chance he could. She passed away 10 years ago this spring, with Don living all of these years since then without her. We went back and celebrated his 90^th birthday with him in 2012, and saw him for the last time this past January when my mom and two of my sisters and I went back to visit him after his cancer diagnosis.  

Despite the struggles and sacrifice it took to move there and study, my time in Kansas with Don and Rachel rank among the most important years of my life.  And throughout the years since then, with Rachel’s mind declining and eventually taken to the other side, Don has been the thread that has kept me attached to that most dear time of life.  The shared memories Don and I had of those happy days I spent there has kept them alive for me over the years, and the day has come that I have been dreading for a long time, where those shared memories are gone. I will miss Don more than I can say.  

So far, I have devoted most of my posts to the acting side of things more than the singing part of it all, but for me they are equal in importance. Singing was my initial pursuit, and my time with Don and Rachel was when it was the most serious and sure. And along with Rachel, Don encouraged and supported me every step of the way, for which I will always be thankful. Since that time,  I have continued to study voice and sing throughout the years, with some frustrated breaks here and there, but I still hold onto that encouragement and support they gave me. Though I am still not where I want to be, being a very slow learner and all, I hold out hope that I can become the kind of singer Rachel and Don encouraged me to be (this hope kept alive by my current godsend of a teacher, Dave). 

 But with all the noise going on in that living room on School Street, the memories I have of Don have a little bit to do with singing, and a lot to do with friendship. Stimulating conversation, learning from each other across a large generation gap, laughing (his sense of humor was crazy, weird, at times shockingly inappropriate, but hilarious) and just spending day after idyllic day together... (time in Sedan seemed blissfully non-existent) these are the things I will cherish and miss most about my friend.

Shortly before returning back to Kansas for the last time during a trip home for Christmas, I had a moment of weakness, being seduced by my family and friends and all that was going on in Salt Lake City.  I called Rachel and my boss at the local grocery store in Sedan, and told them to not expect me back; I was needed in Salt Lake. A few hours after those phone calls, a huge pit in my stomach told me it was the wrong decision, and I knew I had to go back.

 When I called Rachel back the next day to tell her I had changed my mind, Don answered the phone.  I said “Hi, Don, its Elizabeth” to which he replied, “Elizabeth, what is this I hear about you not coming back? Our hearts are broken!”   I gladly told him I had changed my mind and hightailed it back for the final four months that I spent there, which also ended up being the most productive.  I have Don to thank as much as Rachel for all that I learned there, for their nurturing and loving support that I still fall back on, both vocally and otherwise, even though they are now both gone. I wish I had a more eloquent way to express what a blessing he was in my life, and in the lives of countless others, in a very profound way.  I wasn’t worthy of that blessing, but I still benefitted from it just the same.  Thank you Don, for everything.  And now, I am the one whose heart is broken…. 

            Don and I, in front of the historic Three Barns he restored just outside of Sedan, Kansas.