APRIL 14, 2023 – The world is a beautiful place because it’s full of beautiful people, many of whom I encountered today. They provided me with befitting material to mark the fourth anniversary of this daily blog.
The stream of encounters began with a call this morning from my good friend, Linda Hoeschler, whose late husband, Jack, I’d be memorializing later in the day. The occasion would be a formal session of the Ramsey County District Court called in remembrance of Ramsey County Bar Association lawyers who’d died the preceding year. Linda had asked me to present on behalf of the family. Knowing and loving Jack as I did, I was deeply honored by her request. Her call today was filled with news of love, faith and joy as abundant and beautiful as a symphonic bouquet designed for Versailles. She’s living proof that if a person’s outlook is positioned right, the sun is always rising.
I carried this notion with me to the memorial session in the auditorium of Sundin Music Hall on the nearby Hamline University campus in St. Paul. Before the session began, I saw many lawyers with whom I hadn’t interacted since before the pandemic. Except for the Great Easter Egg Hunt (See 4/1 post), the gathering this afternoon was the first group affair I’d attended in over three years. It was also the first time I’d tied a necktie and worn dress shoes since early March 2020.
The session was well orchestrated by the bar association. The entire Ramsey County District Bench was on hand, seated on stage in two sections, to either side of the center lectern. Two uniformed bailiffs opened and closed the session. The Chief Judge, the Honorable Leonardo Castro, gave a superbly touching and dignified welcome, as did Kenya Bodden, President of the Ramsey County Bar Association.
The rest of the program consisted of 17 three-minute (according to the rules; some defied the clock) memorials, each read by a friend, law partner or family member of the deceased. On the face of the program was the Buddhist script: “Neither fire nor wind, birth nor death can erase our good deeds.”
The auditorium was conspicuously unadorned, though comfortably utilitarian. Nevertheless, as the memorials were read, I felt as if I’d been transported to some grand cathedral where all regrets from the past, concerns of the day, worries about the future were vanquished by the divine beauty that resides in our humanity and its resilience beyond our individual mortality. Each of the deceased had made an indelible impression on the world. Each presenter, in turn, imbued memory not with grief or despair but with enduring love, hope and encouragement.
Perhaps the most personally moving presentation made reference to the hopeful Jewish legend (in Isaiah) that “There are never [fewer] than 36 just [people] in the world who greet the Shekhinah [God’s presence] every day.” Today in that auditorium alone, a multiple of 36 just people were present. We might dwell in a perpetually troubled world, I thought, but given the remarkable presentations and interactions today, the world is also perpetually blessed with 36 times a multiple of 777 of just, good, great and beautiful people.
I was among the last four individuals engaged in conversation in the auditorium long after the session had ended. A staff person opened a side door and diplomatically suggested that perhaps it was time for us to grab a cookie and beverage before the refreshment tables were packed up. He joked about how to end a party—remove the refreshments or, in the case of music, pull the plug. I liked his smile and humor and told him so. He then said a word about doing the reverse once at a party—striking up a ditty to restart the festivities.
This offhand remark prompted my question, “What instrument do you play?”
“Accordion,” he answered.
“Accordion?!” I said. “I love the accordion!”
Off to the races our conversation charged. The accordionist turned out to be Silvester Vicic, the Director of Sundin Hall and Conference and Management Programs and adjunct professor of digital media arts. The son of post-WW II Slovenian immigrants to Toronto via Venezuela, Silvester is an accomplished professional musician, serious musicologist and public radio announcer and producer, not to mention dedicated student of history and just plain gracious and irresistibly cheerful human being. I scratched the surface of his background and discovered an absolutely fascinating life, filled with an appreciation for all the wonders of civilization.
All this transpired 1.6 miles from our front steps, yet more evidence that one doesn’t have to travel far or wide to find 36 just (and good, great and beautiful) people.
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© 2023 by Eric Nilsson
