1971. So far it had been a tumultuous year for the Creston Choir. It was my third year as the vocal music director in the school that many years earlier had been my alma mater in grades 9-12.

The time had moved so quickly. There was a two year period of working and studying in The Netherlands.

It was followed by one long year of trying to become a tulip bulb salesman, a year of beginning my music study at Grand Rapids Junior College, interrupted by a stint in the National Guard and being a Chaplain’s assistant.

It was followed by another year at Grand Rapids J.C. followed by two more years at Western Michigan University obtaining a bachelor of music fegree, and doing graduate study in psychology and counseling.  

At the same time, I was teaching at Lincoln Junior High in Kalamazoo and being organist and choir director at Stockbridge Methodist Church. In addition, I was now married and had become a dad.

It was a rather “full” plate. I seemed to be spending half of my life in my car, commuting to my next appointment.

While working on my organ performance music degree at Grand Rapids Junior College, I studied with Ben Lehn at Park Congregational Church; (Ben replaced John Davis, who had become organist and choir director at West Point Chapel), and I studied voice with Mr. Frank Goodwin, my former Creston High School choir director.

I accepted an offer from Forest Hill High School in Suburban Grand Rapids, Michigan to become their High School Choir Director as well as their 9-12th grade High School Counselor.

My prayers had been answered and my wandering life seemed to be coming to an end. I resigned from my organist/choir director job in Kalamazoo and for a while became the choir director for a local, Grand Rapids Presbyterian Church.

The church was led by a superb preacher, a man who I greatly respected, but I missed being on the organ bench on Sunday mornings. I soon found an organist position at Wallin Congregational Church in Grand Rapids. In addition, I was offered the job of music director for the Lowell Showboat. 

To supplement my income, I had acquired a number of private organ and piano students. I taught the lessons in the students’ homes. On one of those visits a dad asked me if I belonged to a service club. I laughed it off and said that there was little time in my life for such things, besides my time after school was filled with rehearsals and giving private lessons.

He went on to explain that he belonged to the North Grand Rapids Rotary Club and they met at noon. One of their meeting traditions was that they always sang a few songs after dinner and ended each song session with “America, the Beautiful.”

Unfortunately, their piano player, a fellow Rotarian, had moved away and they were looking for a replacement. They were so committed to the singing part of their meetings that they had initiated a contest. Whoever brought in the next piano player, and who would also commit to becoming a Rotarian, he and the piano player would be treated to a steak dinner at a very fine local Steak restaurant.

I, of course, explained that I was a full-time choir director/counselor and that there was no room in my schedule to take time off to go and play piano for some Rotarians (and do whatever Rotarians do)!.My student’s dad would not be dissuaded.

He said, “Why don’t you ask your principal? He might surprise you.”

I promised him that I would ask. The next morning I went to my principal and presented my story.

Instead of being turned down, he said, “I think it is a wonderful idea. It will be a good P.R. connection for the school, and for you. In fact it may offer you some employment connection possibilities for your students. The school will pay your Rotary dues, and every Tuesday when you go to your Rotary meeting, I want you to use a school car, rather than your own. After all, you’ll be on school business.”

He then told me, smilingly, “I am a former Rotary president and I know you’ll do fine.”

Like the saying goes, “You could have knocked me over with a feather.”

I became a Rotarian and the piano player for the North Grand Rapids Rotary Club. I enjoyed a wonderful, free steak dinner, and every Tuesday I drove a school car to my meeting so that “for a brief shining moment at noon.”

I could be the piano player, and eventually the “president of the North Grand Rapids Rotary Club.”

My club even nominated me for district governor, a national title, but I lost in the final vote. I was a youngster, and bearded (remember, this was in the mid-60s). They, the much larger and more traditional crowd, the downtown chapter, made up of the local business and banking tycoons voted for, and won the governorship for one of their own.

It was fun while it lasted.

The crowning achievement for my Creston Choir was our Second Concert Tour to Washington D. C. and New York. Jerry Ford was our local congressman. He was well liked and a much sought after speaker at local events. My Creston Choirs and Senior and Junior Madrigals enjoyed the same distinction.

We were averaging close to 150 concert appearances per year. Needless to say, “these kids were the very best.” The Acapella Choir numbered 150 singers, and there were 100 girls in the Girls Glee Club.  The Junior and Senior Madrigals had sixteen members in each group.

As I indicated, “Jerry Ford,” as he was locally known, and my Creston Choirs often appeared on the same program. It got to the point when “Jerry” and I ran into each other at an event, he would look at me and say, “Hey Lamain, are you gonna sing those same songs again?” I would look at him and say, “How about you? Are you giving that same speech again?”

We had a wonderful relationship and truly respected each other.

In 1970, while I was preparing for our first Eastern U.S. Tour I contacted “Jerry’s” office and asked for his help in setting up some Washington concerts.

I knew that he could open doors that I would never be able to open. In my request, I even asked about singing in The White House.

One of the lessons that I had learned early in life was “Always aim high” and dream impossible dreams.”

“Jerry” came through. The White House was a “maybe,” but just before leaving on our tour, I received word from The Office of the President that “due to Presidential commitments the White House was unable to honor our request.”

In spite of the disappointing message, we had a wonderful tour and sang in many memorable places, but not in the White House. Another memorable lesson that I had learned was, “Never give up!” Keep climbing that mountain, “‘Til you find your dream.”

EDITOR’S NOTE: Gerrit Lamain is a former Copper Country resident who served as a music professor at Suomi College. He has published a book, “Gerrit’s Notes: A compilation of essays,” which can be found on Amazon. His email address is gerrit.lamain@gmail.com.