GUEST COMMENTARY: `THE TRUMPET SHALL SOUND'

Things were falling apart on Tuesday nights for the past few months. Wife Nancy and Neighbor Linda stopped playing rummy and hurried away to some assignation; When they returned, I noticed they were often humming or singing snatches of music.

All of this became clear this Tuesday night when Nancy and Linda joined a chorus of about 120 with an orchestra of 40 for a production of portions of Handel's Messiah. Life affords few greater delights than joining in or listening to such an event. No one has a right to lament the poverty of our age so long as he can listen (or join in singing) to the pulse of "Worthy Is the Lamb." Perhaps he will come to feel one of the best things in life is to give ear to "The Trumpet Shall Sound." If Roseanne Barr leaves something lacking, how about "Lift Up Your Heads, Oh Ye Gates"? Or if you are convinced that our age cares for nothing by Basketball, et. al, how do you explain the reaction of the crowd in Academic Hall?

Life affords comparisons which should not be made. Similarities can be deceptive. I am happy that our public schools support both basketball and music. I have never shouted at a performance of the Messiah as I have at an OT in a ball game, but I have never found myself walking down a country lane reliving a free-throw; yet I might be humming "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" and remembering how Cary Nall sang it last night. Or how Tom Lowery sand "The Trumpet Shall Sound."

Art reaches a certain core of us that Basketball does not touch. It has a kind of eternity. The Compton's Encyclopedia of my youth had a full page painting of King George standing in the ornate hall in London as he listened to the Hallelujah Chorus, just as we stood in Academic Hall last night. I reach back and touch the King.

And I believe, but cannot prove, that the performance I heard last night was superior than that which King George heard. Instruments are better. Singers are better trained. Conductors are not megalomaniacs any longer.

We can take special pride in our local soloists, who rendered their number with a depth of understanding and dedication not always heard in better known imported talents.

Directors John Egbert and Sara Edgerton must be credited with a good share of the success of the events. And now perhaps we can get back to rummy.