Joined:
April 2008
Posts: 1851
Location: Newington, CT | The "somewhat" is that Gary was a musician -- one of the finest in the world at his craft -- but not a guitarist. He was a church organist and I can personally attest that he possessed gargantuan talent. His prodigious prowess with the keyboard stood in conspicuously ostentatious contrast to the soft-spoken, humble man that he was. Some called him “Gentle Giant.”
He was a prodigy, showing immense talent at a very early age. His blue-collar parents did what they could to obtain lessons for him, and finally with hard work and scholarships, Gary graduated from the prestigious Hartt School of Music in West Hartford, CT.
Playing the organ in churches is not very remunerative, and Gary and his family led a peripatetic existence, traveling from church to church -- each time going to bigger churches with better instruments -- this métier's "promotion" mechanism.
They lived, he and his growing family, in Farmington, CT (how I knew him), Florida, Alabama, Virginia (Truro -- one of the largest Episcopal congregations in the world), back to Connecticut, then to Pennsylvania, and finally Ohio.
As they moved about, Gary's renown grew rapidly, and soon people were mentioning him in the same breath as E. Power Biggs. For those in the know about church organ playing, this is the highest praise.
Yet, with all the adulation that he attracted, he was not one for concertizing or recording. He simply sat down at the keyboard, and was at home, at peace, where he belonged. It was as though his purpose in life was to grace the moment with some soaring interpretation of Bach or Beethoven or Fauré or Mozart. He could leave an audience open-mouthed, stunned to silence, before they erupted in applause, as they realized they had just heard something truly exquisite. And this would be at the Sunday School's Christmas Pageant.
Gary played the organ for my Mom's funeral in 2005. Subsequently several dozen people approached me and told me that his rendition of "I am the Bread of Life" was one of the most powerful, moving musical experiences they had ever had. People speak to me of it to this day, nearly five years later.
He did this kind of thing routinely.
Congregations had taken to applauding after services. A devout man, Gary worried aloud to me once that, maybe, the music was distracting from the message. He didn't have anything to worry about. I was there many times, and, like a powerful sermon beautifully delivered, his music, always exquisitely tailored to the moment within the liturgy, was a perfect complement to the message.
In Ohio, Gary and his family had finally found a place where they seemed truly happy. They loved the church, loved the people, enjoyed the location -- western Ohio near the Michigan border -- and figured they had finally arrived where they wanted to be. The church was smaller; musically he had nothing more to prove, and Gary was much sought after, so they were comfortable. Now, they were going to concentrate on raising the kids.
Then, the diagnosis: it wasn't a muscle pull but pancreatic cancer. He had maybe three months left. That was Summer 2008. He fought it 'til just last Wednesday. Ash Wednesday. Gary's wife, fierce family woman that she is, stayed at his side through the whole ordeal, and did what she could to ease the pain for both her children and Gary. It was deeply exhausting for her, but she never missed a beat, never complained, never let on that she was tired, until I spoke with her last Thursday. Only then, when he was gone, did she allow as how she was just tuckered out.
The fellowship of church organists is a small, tight-knit one. However, because they are so few in number, there is intense competition within that fraternity to excel, and attrition is high. Gary was legendary within the group. Others spoke of him with awe in their voices. Many figured that as long as Gary was around, then the top spot was simply taken.
Gary was a good and loving family man. Merrilee, is a sweet, gentle woman with a backbone of steel. She is an excellent church organist herself. I often told her that I thought she could be as good as Gary, because she really has a feel for music. She just kind of laughed and said, "No way," or some variation of that. Their children -- Christian and Catherine -- are delightful youngsters. He's nine-years old and she six. They have both lost their daddy way too early in life.
Gary leaves behind a beautiful, loving wife, two wonderful, sweet young children, thousands of fans scattered about the country, and some of the greatest moments in music ever heard. Just memories now, those moments lifted the spirits of thousands and will never be forgotten. Nor will he.
Rest in peace, Gary. |
Somewhat OT: RIP Gary Jaskulski
