|
He had had many visits from friends near and far in those last weeks: I
believe that they sustained him and enlivened his last days. Herbert
has been amazing through all of this – keeping after the doctors, making
all of the arrangements, etc. The last time I saw John, the Sunday
before he died, he was no longer able to speak, but could still understand
what was said to him. Gail Shulman was there too and we were able to
get him to sing a bit!! The power of music is amazing!
John was a great friend and really my most profound musical mentor.
He had such a gift for bringing music alive and for infusing everyone
around him with enthusiasm to match his own. He stepped aside from
the music in order to let the beauty of the music shine through, such a
rare quality. I was so lucky to have worked as his assistant for the last
nine of his 32 years at Memorial Church!
Somehow this is a bit easier to bear when I think of him as being released
now from the Parkinson’s, and with his dogs, Laddie, Benji and Zumba, and
with so many of his great friends who have passed away. He is alive
still in the hearts and minds of so many musicians who were taken on
wonderful musical voyages with him.
From Alison Games, a choir secretary:
John was such an important presence in my life, in college and beyond, and
I know that his absence leaves a real hole in the hearts and lives of so
many people. Even though we all know the loss was expected, and the burden
of Parkinson's cruel and tenacious, it's still crushing to think of the
world without him in it.
From Mark Lowenstein:
By some strange coincidence I was singing a concert last friday --
something from Schütz's Geistliches Konzert and it had of course made me
think of John as I do every time I perform Schütz. What you said about
him stepping aside from the music is so true -- to do that with unabated
enthusiasm is a rare and wonderful thing and I was thinking of him in
those terms a week ago as I sang.
From Loring Conant:
Our souls were nourished significantly by John in a variety of settings
from Mem Church to Sanders Theater, from U Choir to the Cantata Singers.
As an individual and as a musician he is without peer with his gracious,
modest manner and his superior musicianship. I am eternally grateful that
John was in our lives. And what a privilege and gift for you to have him
as your mentor!
From Scott Kluksdahl:
John was a sterling example of humanity at the noblest level. And as
a musician, he was connected to the Source - it was never about John, was
it? It was about music. The French have a term which they
bestow only upon the very great artist/musician (in translation) -
scrupulous.
Scrupulous was John Ferris.
Tom Cooke:
I'll never forget the day I found out that I'd actually made it in to the
Harvard University Choir. This was one of the happiest days of my life
and I still remember the sheer joy I felt upon seeing my name on the list
of lucky singers. It meant I got to be near to John Ferris. I got to
sing for this fabulous musician, and I simply got to be in his presence.
John radiated compassion - it came through in his music, and it came
through in the way he treated each and every person in the choir. Harvard
could be a cold, judgmental, unforgiving place, and here in the middle of
it was this wonderful man who just wasn't shaken by all of that.
Can't you just see John coming across the Yard, being pulled along by
Benji?? He even stood out in this, which is pretty hard to do (given the
kinds of folks who wander through there every day).
I'm glad that I got to spend time with him when we returned to Connecticut
in 2004, at a time when he was still pretty much in control of his life,
even though he was much diminished. And his death, as you say, really is
a release. The last couple of years were no fun for him at all.
I have a few things to add to everyone else’s memories. Some of you have
heard part of what I am going to share because on August 3rd, right after
John’s death, I set some thoughts on paper. Since then I have thought of a
few other things I wanted to add. Here is a combination of the old
recollections with the new.
 I remember
John eyeing me warily when I came, wondering if I was like other pastors
who knew "everything" about music and wanting to run the whole show.
As you know, I am a musical dummy, although I love to sing. I always
respected his space and he was so kind to me. What a gentle
soul. I remember him driving me to Melanie's to a Music
Committee meeting--a little like "Mr Toad's Wild Ride"at Disneyworld. I
remember him stopping by the parsonage just to visit a bit when he was
still toodling from here to there. We discussed everything from religion
to politics and back again. I remember him being gone from the choir loft
and missing his nod to me during the service. I will never
forget how hungry he was and how he could wolf down brownies or
caramels--always the sweet stuff first. I remember him never letting me
get away with a peck on the forehead or cheek--it always had to be a
smooch on the lips. I remember his love of the garden and his desire to be
out there among the flowers and veggies as much as possible (and yet he
hated the little song, "In the Garden"--go figure). I remember
playing a version of “Name That Tune” with him. As long as we stayed with
show tunes and anything written in the 1900s and later I had a chance of
winning. He delighted in things written long, long ago and when it came to
identifying those tunes, he beat me easily. I remember seeing him going
through the paces of physical therapy and having Herb say to me, “Watch,
his competitive nature will come out.” And it did, when he would win the
game of pass the balloon. The balloon never ended up in his hands when the
music would stop. Some poor unsuspecting old lady would find it suddenly
in her lap. He bent the rules a little so he would win. I remember him
walking in hospital corridors daring his attendants to try to keep up with
him. I remember the last time I saw him struggling with the IVs and all
those damn tubes coming out of and going into every which-where.
But, he still laughed at me the best he could and I knew that a glimmer of
our John was still there. I loved to threaten him with "How
Great Thou Art" being sung at this service. He was not a fan of that
song. And, I loved being "Marilyn Monroe" every now and then--he always
caught on to the disguise and I remember him saying during one of his
nursing home stays, "Alice, I'd know you anywhere." I remember the
conversations and the way he would be "right on" about so much going on
around me. I remember when he asked me if this service would be a funeral
or a memorial service. I told him a memorial service because we all have
many memories of him. And then we held each other and together—Herb was
out of the room.
I will never forget him. Someone once said, "To live in the
hearts of others is to have eternal life"--I like that.
John has gone us before us into the mystery we believe awaits us. He never
doubted that he would journey on in the company of his mother and his
friends.
I would like to close with these words from Wordsworth’s “Intimations Of
Immortality:”
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting
The soul that travels with us, our life’s star
Hath elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar,
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God who is our home.
-- Amen |
