HUMOR: Thank you, Miss Sechrist
Can Drew write an entire column about the Flugelhorn's greatest master? With the help an elementary school teacher, the answer is ... well, see below.
By Drew Gallagher
HUMORIST
The world lost three cultural icons from the 1980s recently with the deaths of actor Malcolm-Jamal Warner, musician Ozzy Osbourne, and professional wrestler Hulk Hogan. Their deaths happened in such quick succession that some of us did not have time to process our grief, our memories, or their legacies which were sometimes complicated by the passing of time or the fact that they were idiots who were fake head dropped in the wrestling ring one too many times.
Some people tried to console themselves with Facebook posts and the “bad things only happen in threes” fallacy to ward off any more loss and suffering. (The cartoon Caillou has continually proven that bad things can, and do, happen in fours since that is the number of family members who helped to raise the title character to be the most insufferable spoiled little whiner in the history of television.) Unfortunately, there was a fourth celebrity death which did not receive as much publicity as the other three, which was likely due to the fact that he devoted his life and talents to the most under-appreciated of all the brass instruments, the flugelhorn.
Jazz musician Chuck Mangione passed away on July 22nd at the age of 84. He was best known for his 1977 hit song “Feels So Good.”
(Be warned that playing this song could result in moving your shoulders in a manner that is sure to embarrass your children and their friends.)
Some readers might question the inclusion of Chuck Mangione with the other three legends of the stage and screen and wonder why a humorist would devote a column exclusively to a man who most readers have only heard perform while sitting in a doctor’s waiting room or while riding an elevator in the late 1970s. I assure you that my inspiration was not as a result of a happy hour challenge that, paraphrased, went something like: “There is no way you can write an entire column about Chuck Mangione since no one has any idea who that guy was.”
I easily stepped over that thrown gauntlet on my way to get another beer.
Chuck Mangione did achieve fame beyond providing the dulcet tones of waiting rooms and elevators for decades, but only his most ardent fans will remember that he was chosen to compose and perform the theme song for the 1980 Olympics in Lake Placid, New York. (One could argue that there would have been no “Miracle on Ice” without the soundtrack provided by the talents of Chuck Mangione, but you’re probably going to lose that argument and get throat punched in the process). Later in life, Mangione demonstrated that he had a sense of humor to match his love for the flugelhorn by playing himself in a recurring role on the animated television show “King of the Hill.” If any person ever hugs me as dearly as Mangione hugs his flugelhorn on the album cover for “Feels So Good” then I know that I am dying.
Mangione, though, will forever be remembered as The King of the Flugelhorn. Other musicians have played the instrument, including Miles Davis, but none were as singularly focused on taking the flugelhorn to the soaring musical heights that Mangione envisioned. And his reverence was, in turn, shared by a small percentage of the population who revered him as much as he revered his obscure instrument of choice. One of those people was my third-grade teacher, Miss Sechrist.
Chuck Mangione entered my life for a few fleeting minutes in 1980 when Miss Sechrist mentioned his music to our gathered class before she read to us for 15 minutes. The teacher reading to us each day was one of the highlights of the elementary school day and only surpassed by recess and gym class (except for the week where we combined gym with music class to learn square dancing). Miss Sechrist had a personality and a presence that was suitable for hugging. She was sincere, loved her job, and loved her students. She gave lots of hugs, but I did realize on the day that Chuck Mangione entered my life that Miss Sechrist would never look upon any of us with the dreamy look that she harbored for Chuck Mangione which was most certainly a good thing and a step toward avoiding a possible felony charge.
Miss Sechrist never played Chuck Mangione’s music for us, but something about the look of longing on her face when she closed her eyes and hummed a few bars of his music made me realize that here was an artist worthy of great ardor. I rarely thought of Chuck Mangione or his music for the next 45 years of my life, but I did think of Miss Sechrist when I heard he had died. She taught third grade for 30 years in the same school and was so much more than an introduction to a musician known for soft jazz, but in that one moment, as we gathered at her feet and eagerly awaited her cracking open a book from the school’s library, she captured my young attention. Miss Sechrist passed away in 2017.
This memory of Miss Sechrist made me think about the teachers who have touched our lives and specifically the one who recently stood in her kitchen and said there was no way I could write an entire column on the passing of Chuck Mangione. On that night, my teacher friend provided me with good beer and food as well as the welcome company of those in attendance. But she also lit a small spark on that evening that became a full-blown column on the passing of Chuck Mangione. I like to think that would have made Miss Sechrist happy.
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