Keeping the Music Alive

To Mr. Hagen,

For many years, you sculpted rag-tag bunches of students into fine musicians. You were a firm but fair teddy bear, always expecting nothing but the best.

I was proud to be a member of the high school marching band and concert bands in Park Rapids, Minnesota, from 1979 to 1983. With your help, I not only learned about playing the flute and piccolo, but I also learned about musicianship, music theory, and strong work ethic. I was amazed and delighted with the star ratings you helped me achieve at regional competitions. I ended up with 13 medals in the shape of Minnesota on my letter jacket – some for solos, some for ensembles, and some for accompanying other classmates – none of which I would have received without your instruction.

You ran a tight ship, but I’m curious if you ever found out about what happened the one time you were absent (your only absence I can recall.) I felt sorry for the substitute. She tried to get us to play, but what she didn’t realize was that practically everyone had traded instruments. I think I had a trumpet at the time. We sounded horrible!

I also wonder if you remember the semester when I was your teacher’s assistant. I helped file music, store supplies, and did any grunt work that needed to be done, but it was so much more than that. It was a time of extra mentorship. You taught me what it meant to teach music, and I was hooked.

Largely because of you, I applied to your alma mater, Concordia College in Moorhead, known for their outstanding music department. I was so honored to be accepted as a music major.

Due to the time and effort you put into my instruction, I aced my freshman year. Of course, not everything in college was easy, but your years as my teacher and mentor helped greatly.

I hope you were proud of me when I graduated cum laude. I hope you were happy for me when I accepted a job teaching music in Cottonwood, Arizona.

I will never, ever forget the day that you popped into my school room in 1991 all the way from MN. My jaw must have nearly hit the floor. I remember exclaiming, “Mr. Hagen? How did you know where to find me?” After hugs and huge smiles, we had a limited amount of time together until I had another class coming for music.

You explained that you and your wife were driving down the freeway and you said, “Cottonwood - isn’t that where Julie teaches? Let’s got visit.” You drove 10 miles off the freeway on a whim, just to get to my town. Then, you had to find out where the district office was. I’m glad they were willing to share the location of my school. You'll never know how much it meant to me that you went to so much trouble for a short visit.

What you never told me is that you were heading to Mesa for cancer treatment. It wasn’t until after you passed away that I found that out. I know that death is a part of life but knowing it and dealing with it are two entirely different concepts.

I am so sorry that I couldn’t come to your memorial service. That cut me to the bone, but it just wasn’t possible at the time with little ones at home and a tight budget. I was relieved that someone asked me to write a few words in your honor.

Mr. Hagen, you may be gone, but you are most certainly not forgotten. I am forever in your debt for the music instruction and the many life lessons you offered me. I know I am not the only one you have touched over the years.

Thank you sincerely for all that you have done for all your rag-tag students. I gratefully continue to attempt to carry on your tradition of musical excellence.

Your humble former musician,

Julie