Photo courtesy of Michigan Tech University archives Gerrit Lamain plays the Wurlitzer Organ for the last time at the Student Development Complex (SDC).

Early the very next morning my phone rang and a voice told me “Stay home Gerrit, we have a snowstorm in Ontonagon.”

I tried going back to sleep, but my mind was working overtime. Maybe I should just wait until the next snow day? I dismissed that thought immediately.

Throughout my life I had never backed away from a challenge, and I was not going to start now. I had overcome some pretty big challenges in my life and I knew that deep down inside I would have the strength to climb that ladder and play that organ.

I called Bob at the arena and said, “I am coming in. Get that ladder ready. This is a one shot deal, and I am not going to fail.”

Typically of the U.P., Ontonagon had a snowstorm and in Houghton it was calm and clear. When I walked into the arena the arena crew was waiting for me. They said that it was to cheer me on.

To me it looked like a memorial committee. The slanted ladder was in place. I took off my coat and I was ready.

Bob said, “I’ll go up first and unlock the door into the organ chamber and I’ll wait for you up there.”

He reminded me one more time, “Don’t look down! Just look straight ahead as you go up.”

I guess he didn’t want to see the headline “Organist Crashes.” It was “now or never.”

Slowly I went up the slanted ladder, and then I reached out and grabbed onto the ladder that was bolted onto the wall and I began to climb and count. I really didn’t know how many rungs there were, but counting out loud seemed to help.

It took my mind off the fact that “I was doing it.” I was concentrating so hard that I never saw the platform that I was supposed to step onto to get into the organ chamber. My hand reached up for the next rung, and there was no rung. I had gone too high and passed the platform.

So, “What goes up must come down.” Crazy how at such a time I was thinking of that song. This was no time to break out in song. Down two rungs and there I was, next to the platform.

I remembered what Bob has taught me, “swing to the right, and step onto the platform.” I was too terrified to even think about it. I just followed instructions and there I was, in the organ chamber!

Bob was there to greet me. He showed me where the “On” switch for the organ blower was, and I turned it on. A big “Whoosh!” filled the three organ chambers (rooms filled with organ pipes). The organ was ready for take-off.

Bob opened another door and there was the Mighty Wurlitzer console, waiting just for me. It was really big. I just stood there, afraid to move.

Bob said, “All right Gerrit, do your stuff.”

I sat down on the bench. At first I didn’t even dare to look over my shoulder. There were just a couple of iron railings separating me and the mezzanine floor, 50 feet below, and another 50 feet below that was the goalkeeper’s cage. The cage was meant for hockey pucks, not a daredevil organist. A hundred feet down below from where I was sitting on the organ bench. It was a good thing that I had only had a light breakfast because my stomach was beginning to rebel. It didn’t care for heights either.

I started to look over all the various stops and buttons. Most of it looked familiar, some of it not so much, but I figured that with a little time I would master it all. I began to play. Softly at first, but then, as I grew less scared and more self-assured, I began to run this giant music machine through its paces. It was absolutely incredible. What a sound.

I played on and on, and finally Bob tapped me on the shoulder and said, “We’d better go down. There is some other stuff going on in the arena and they probably would like to be able to hear each other.”

I got off the bench, turned off the blower, and followed Bob down the ladder. Going down was much easier. With every step I knew I was getting closer to the floor,

When we reached the main floor I received a round of applause from the custodial crew and then Bob said something that I didn’t want to hear,

He said, “For your own good, I need to advise you that you should go right back up that ladder one more time. Each time it will become easier.”

I really didn’t want to do it, but I knew he was right, so, up and down I went, one more time. Another life’s lesson learned. When you reach what you thought to be an almost impossible goal, repeat it and make it truly your own.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Gerrit Lamain is a former Copper Country resident who served as a music professor at Suomi College. He was also the organist for the Michigan Tech hockey team before moving on to the Minnesota North Stars.