for Tom

Saturday mornings are generally light. A few students in the morning, with work at the studio, or a gig in the afternoon. But that one was heavier than the one 45 min lesson on the schedule.  Still working off the high of playing with my ‘other brothers’ in a new trio of guitar, cello and sax, word came down that the town had lost a pillar of our arts family, and one who played a large part of what I have been able to accomplish in the arts. It is slowly sinking in, how tragic the loss of someone, still years young, possessing skills and ingenuity, and a list of accomplishments a mile long, really is.

My journey to Connecticut starts after a year off from school, restarting at The Hartt School. My former teacher got me a job at the former Music Works in Vernon. It was just a part time thing selling reeds and scheduling music lessons. But my penchant for puzzles was suited to keeping the teachers schedules tight and getting them out early if I could. I made fast friends with a lot of these teachers that I was hoping to be. My old teacher introduced me to Donna Schaffer, a brilliant pianist/soprano that had moved here recently from Michigan. We clicked straight away as classical musicians and performers. Her husband, Tom Deffenbaugh would drop by to bring her lunch or whatever, and we’d get to chatting about music, bands we like, gear, etc. He was a few years older than me. About the same age as my older brother, named Tom. My brother, Tom, has a twin. Tom was twin too! His twin brother’s name? Tim. Weird but I dig quirky things like that. I can’t recall how long I was at the Music Works, but had to bounce when an actual teaching gig opened up and I could get my career going. So long, Tom & Donna, see you around…sometime!  I guess I made an impression because the next time I saw them was years later, they’d been looking for me.

It was one of those really nice sunny weekends we get here sometimes. You know the kind, where the last thing you plan on doing is work.  But from the porch of my apartment on Lilley St., I saw these two people raking up the yard of a dilapidated building on the corner. A long standing eyesore the town of Manchester didn’t know what to do with. It contained a defunct television repair shop on one side, and a coin-op laundromat on the other. It took a while but most regulars realized that washing machines 4, 6, 8 were good, the others a crap shoot. But these people looked so familiar, I took walk. Lo and behold, here are. Tom & Donna, with a bold idea of starting a music studio, and they want me to be a part of it! I’m in! They had grown out of the studio at their house on Summit Street and took on this building. It didn’t take long until my lease was up and I moved into an apartment above the studio. Tom was an astute business guy. House the teacher and fill his schedule. Sure makes paying the mortgage on a commercial building easier if there’s rent AND lesson revenue from your tenant. I loved it. It’s one thing to have a teaching gig, but the bonus was having friends like these with contacts. As Summit elevated, all kinds of work came through there. Gigs, community opportunities, new students and all being fielded by Tom. His knack for engagement has no equal. He could engage with anyone, whether they walked through the door or when something needed to be done with the town of Manchester. He could close. Well, most times. Sometimes, he’d send Donna. Some guys weren’t won over with his charm, Donna’s did. This was the A-Team, and they were getting it done.

It was a close community. Waiting on lessons and chatting, Tom would tell me of his former life as an editor at ESPN. It gave him an amazing depth with technology and gear. Think nerd but better looking. He schooled me on editing video stuff. Pans, zooms, wipes. He chuckled that the wipes used in Star Wars were kind of cheesy.  I didn’t hold it against him…for long. Growing up in Maine, and him in Michigan, we could talk winter and what it was like being kids, growing up and finding music.  He was a bass player in an original/cover 80s band. If you’ve seen the band’s promo pic, you’re forgiven for initially confusing it with some other ‘hair metal’ band. What kind of bass did he play? Why none other than one of those headless, bodiless, Steinberger jobs. He had both. Four string AND five string. He was a rocker through and through, but didn’t read music. Too bad. Would have been poetic if when Donna got a music director gig they could play together, how sweet! She asked me instead. It was for CAST, the local children’s theater in town, and a bass not a guitar part. Well, it has frets, and I read bass clef for piano (I Suck bad), So I could do it, but didn’t have a bass. Tom lent me one of his, and I had my first pit gig as a pro musician.

And so it went for the next ten years or so. It was a golden era for those that passed through Summit. Lots of great people and students. Many students who became pros themselves. Some great teachers who were also great players. And we played. In the pits with Donna. At the faculty concerts the studio put on. The faculty even made a record for Christmas once, too! Donna and I got to work together in some classical guitar/voice duos, and LOTS of music theater. And then there were bands. One of my favorites was the Police/Sting tribute band. Tom had found a ‘Sting’ from Western MA, and played bass. Jody Hagenow, drummer extraordinaire (and Tom’s brother from a different mother) and I filled out the core, with some other Summit aces adding the finishing touches. We worked hard at it, played a few gigs and had fun, but it cycled. Later, Jody’s teaching studio became the namesake of another Summit band: Studio 7. Think smooth jazz/pop vocals by Donna backed by guitar, bass and drums. Usual suspects, having fun playing music. So, we could pick up and just play, anytime anywhere. Did Rock Star Birthday Parties! A crazy idea (at least to me) that Tom came up with. But what a hit! Those kids had a blast, and yeah I guess I did too. Now, I have lots of gigs under my fingers, lots of weddings that are memorable to my clients, but one of my unforgettable moments was a Halloween party at Tom & Donna’s. Here, I’ll pause to say that the Summit world worked hard, and we played hard without the nonsense that ruins a good time. So I’m saying we were practiced at this. Along our storied Summit way, I acquired the nickname ‘Sexy Cat Man’. And what better time to let the cat out of the bag than at a Halloween performance. Fronted by the incomparable Carolyn Fisher, we laid it down with faves like: Cat Scratch Fever, Stray Cat Strut and Black Cat. I might have won the costume competition due to the lifelike tail, but Tom was a dead ringer for Capt. Jack Sparrow.

While Donna was music directing in the pit, Tom was working tech and constructing sets. It might have been all the repairs to the apartments, the construction of new studios as the business grew, but it seemed like he always had a hammer close by. One might even think that he had a kind of a problem: an addiction to renovations. How many times has Summit’s interior changed shade, shape and size?  In recent years, I’d visit and he’d give me the tour of a redesign of studios, then there was the retail phase, and the transformation of my old apartment into a modern studio environment. In the early days, I remember how proud he was to finally nail down the deal for the facade. Manchester lost an eyesore, and Summit got a rocket engine.

It was a grand time for the studio. Just a hotbed of creativity. For the recitals, Tom would lead the way with the tech wherever we went. Manchester Community College was a great time. It’s a great hall and Tom knew how to work all of it. We put on some real classy productions with the kids doing recitals, marathon recitals!, and the rock bands, too. Donna would run front-of-house and Tom on the headset in the booth. Faculty assuming tech and support roles to pull off some great shows and recitals.  And then somehow, we arrived at the rock band classes. The dance studio Tom had built was retrofit for a rock band rehearsal space.  I had a huge roster of guitarists then and coordinated them with other students from other teachers to assemble and coach bands. Tom would arrange for a end-of-semester ‘gig’ at the Main Pub. God, that was fun. Imagine you’re 12 years old playing Crazy Train to a full bar of cheering fans, playing real loud with a live band! I just worked with the band. Tom got us the gig.

And then…life happens. An abundance of achievement and accomplishments can cloud one’s perception, lead to complacency, but also personal growth. Whatever it is, it’s life and we don’t ever have control over it. Sadly, it didn’t work out for Tom and Donna. They wanted to keep it quiet, maybe because they were raised with the idea of divorce as a cultural stigma, whatever, who knows. My own experience tells me whenever a close relationship breaks down, there’s the feeling of loss, anger, embarrassment, disappointment, failure…feel free to contribute. We all loved them, couldn’t pick sides and wanted to support each of them however we could. High functioning people just became idiots at certain parts of life. But Summit endured nonetheless. For my part, I began to nip at the hand that fed me. I had bigger ideas, my own plan, and felt I wasn’t getting my due. Tom didn’t take kindly to my announcement that I started my own studio in East Hartford. We butted heads after Donna left. Had some real authentic HR-type meetings, with agreements to be signed, etc. In 2011, my girlfriend and I decided to finally move in together at her place in Avon. With my studio running, I fulfilled my obligation and handed in my resignation to Summit in August. There was a tradition for each departing teacher to get a going-away dinner. This 10+ year teacher didn’t get one, and I took it as a parting slight.

Fast forward and my Highland Guitar Studio ends up back in Manchester, and in competition with my former employer. I kept a low profile around town and didn’t visit assuming persona non grata. As it turns out, there’s a LOT of crap to do when owning your own business. I never knew. But Tom did, and could navigate it. I lack that patience and the poor people in those offices bear the brunt. Do you know the town taxes you on printer ink? Yep, and they have to hire an outside company at $50,000+ to see where the roads are crappy. Anyway, it was the last day to pay taxes and who do I see coming out of town hall but Tom. I recognized him instantly and braced for tension. Instead, I got the warmest greeting I didn’t deserve, and an invitation to come see the new renovations to the studio (didn’t I say he had a problem?).

From here, I felt like I could drop in anytime. Some of the regulars of my glory days were always happy to see me. Tom ALWAYS had something else that he had built. Jody was a constant fixture. If he wasn’t teaching the he was involved in some other aspect of Summit. Different phases, rebranding and then…the pandemic. This was tough for all of us, but I’d drop in to see how they were navigating, compare notes. He told me he had been sick but beat it.  Then, he showed me the latest iteration of the cafe and how this is going to go there and when this comes in it’ll go there…

The other day after rehearsal I saw a friend’s post and tried to parse what it meant. No one ever wants to come out and say ‘they died’. Maybe it hurts less if we tiptoe around it. The soft language only veils the worst, but doesn’t soften the blow. That’s it, he’s gone. It got him. Cancer, fucking cancer…  The calling hours today were like you might imagine. A line out the door to pay their respects. So many faces I knew, a bit wizened but comfort. I spotted a colleague of mine in the parking lot. My student plays in his middle school jazz band. I glommed onto him asking about my kid. We made small talk as we stood in line. I hate these things. It’s like I absorb the sadness in the room and lose it. After he told me my kid is doing fine, should do this and that, and listen; he shares a story. He asked Tom if he could help out a talented kid in the band. Parents didn’t have any money, but the kid wants to play. Tom took care of it. No charge. Of course, he did. The pictures in the slideshow were of people unfamiliar to me. Tom introduced her to me once, maybe twice, but Alicia was Tom’s second bite at the apple. Loving photos of family gatherings, all smiles. In the sadness, I couldn’t have been happier for all of them in knowing the (new) good times. I didn’t know what to say to these folks. Standing there with the bravest faces to complete strangers awkwardly blubbering their way through the receiving line.  But Alicia knew me by name, and I almost lost it. I’m sorry, so sorry… I made through the line, used the renovation addiction joke with one of the family members for a laugh, and took a seat in the back. She came in through the side, her hair was a different shade but it only took a second to know who it was. We hugged like two people who need to say: I’ve missed you, I’m sorry for our loss, I’m glad your here. Donna caught a flight in on Friday. You might not believe it, you can get past history and differences, and be friends. But only if you’re big enough. They had patched up differences and been friends for a long time. My parents have been divorced 45+ years and haven’t spoken in decades, with five children between them. It’s not lost on me how special reconciliation can be. The world is a cruel place, we should be so lucky to find and know friends like these.

That Saturday lesson was hard because Tom had sold me that bass amp many years before. As the student plugged in her bass and turned it on, it stung. It’s a good amp that has made me money, never needed repair, served it’s purpose in lessons and gigs, and now is a constant reminder. I only teach bass because of the shows I played and improved my skill. So it’s like the song goes, ‘because I knew you, I have been changed for good’, in every sense of the word. Rest in peace.