Fourteen Years Later

By David McDonald (by email)

Dear Mr. Radford, I had the pleasure of being "dragged" to a concert you did in the fall of 1989 for the Hispanic Student Association at the University of Oklahoma. At the time, I was a stuck up college brat studying vocal music education. My college roommate was a classical guitarist who thought he might have an idea what was in store. What we saw was almost beyond comprehension. In my musical career, I have been blessed to see numerous incredible concerts. Many friends ask me, "Which one was the best?" Although I'll tell them what it was like to see the likes of Elton John, Isaac Stern, and Luciano Pavarotti, I've always told them there was nothing more magical than a night in a lecture hall with you. In academia, there often exists an attitude that anything not purely classical is less than worthy of serious study. You taught me to value something in music that I'd always valued previously in life: All the world's people have something incredible to say.

Now, there isn't a single form of art I don't relish, as long as it's done well. You're absolutely right. I'm a human first and a classical musician second. Since I'm told the best way to thank you is with poetry, if I can even express a quarter of the thanks I feel I'll be happy.

At eighteen, I walked in, and quietly took my space
Way in the back, though there wasn't a lack

Of seats in this lecture hall place.

People came after, with curious laughter, from around the institution.

We had to see, what was to be

Of the music from a Tulsa Andalusian.

He came on stage, talked like a sage, while explaining the evening's program

His fingers raged, our ears engaged

And we watched between notes Gypsy slams

In fourteen years, I never hear, anything quite so keen

As when he said, 'fore out we're lead

"What you felt, you had to bring."

Since that time, when I felt sublime, as I heard the evening's last chord

I sit and wonder, and think about thunder
From the strings played by Ronald Radford.