The Day the Music Died

by Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

If you are of a certain age, you will likely remember this song sung by Don McLean in 1971. Its actual title was American Pie. It refers to the day that rock musicians Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson were killed in a plane crash. After the song came out, that day was referred to as the day the music died.

My husband recently shared an article with me written by Jon Henschen. It appeared in Intellectual Takeout, an online app to which my husband subscribes. The title of the article is The Tragic Decline of Music Literacy (and Quality).

Heartbreaking

If you’ve known me for a while or you’ve been following my blog, you know that I have a couple of degrees in music. One of our sons has his Masters degree in instrumental conducting. Three of our four sons play bassoon, our eldest plays drums and guitar, and they all have beautiful voices. For me, reading this article was heartbreaking.

Scripture and Hymns, The Gospel in Song

By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

I don’t know why I should be surprised, but in the past couple of weeks, I have been by the number of scripture verses posted that are anthems or solos I’ve sung at one time or another in my lifetime. Now, granted, when you get to be my age and you’ve been singing in church since you were three, you should know a verse or two and not just Jesus Loves Me.

This got me to thinking of the tradition in which I was raised. My Daddy’s family worshiped in the Presbyterian church, my Mama in the Methodist. During WWII when Daddy was fighting over in the Pacific and Mama was home with Bobbie, Mama went to the Methodist church close to her home because it was too far to walk to the Presbyterian church where Daddy and his family had worshiped. Then, when Daddy came home from the war, the people at the Methodist church came by to welcome him home. Sadly, his home church didn’t do the same. That is how we became the only Methodists in the DuPree family.

Precious Memories Linger On

By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

Do you ever experience days in which memories come flooding without any warning? I had one such day this past week. Of course, I was talking to my sister at the time. I was working on last week’s blog about churches closing their doors. Our thoughts soon turned to the little town in which we grew up. Andalusia, Alabama, was a great place in which to live out our formative years. It is small-town USA, but it was filled with the best teachers, mentors, Sunday School teachers, pastors, friends, one could hope to have.

Sissy didn’t spend as much time in Andalusia as I. She entered the eleventh grade the year we moved there and soon went off to college and marriage. I was in the fourth grade at East Three-Notch Elementary School.  Mrs. Jay was my teacher. I have fond memories of her.

Music Is a Fair and Glorious Gift of God

By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

This has been a week in which my life was enriched by a musical experience. That isn’t unusual since I am a musician, but I had the privilege of hearing the Tampa Bay Symphony play their last concert of the year. They were joined by Jeffrey Multer, Concert Master of the Florida Orchestra. He played Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D Major, Opus 35. I wish you had been there, as it was a superb performance by Mr. Multer and the symphony members. That performance brought to mind the quote that is the title of this post. In doing a search for its origins, I found these quotes, all by Martin Luther. The title of this post is also attributed to him.