Requiem: A Symphony of Love

Harold Lynn McManus, Jr. June 30, 1949 - September 14, 2016
Photo from his 1995 birthday party Chez Yankee Hobbit

My sweet, funny, intrepid, and much beloved friend Harold McManus died on September 14 of this year at the age of 67. He was diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson’s disease just over twenty years ago. He thought it would be the end of all the things he held dear. Instead, after retiring from a decades-long teaching career, moving back home to Macon, GA to live with his dad, and getting regulated on his meds, he resumed the running, organ playing, and traveling that he enjoyed so much in Houston.

I was unaware that his disease and its complications had progressed so far when I felt the urge to check in with him. His wonderful sister Marcia messaged me and gave me the sad news that he would not live much longer. I was so happy to be able to have one last conversation with him before he died. I was humbled and honored when Marcia asked me to speak about his Houston days at his Rosary service on September 23.

So many of his friends from all of the sectors of his life sent condolences via Facebook and email. For that reason, and so that his family can have it in written form, I decided to post my remarks here. If you were a friend, student, or acquaintance who somehow missed his obituary, the family designated the Organ Fund at St. Joseph Catholic Church for memorial donations.

************************

Mass Bulletin, September 24, 2016

Harold McManus was a friend to everyone who knew him in Houston, whether they served with him in worship at First Presbyterian Church (FPC), where I met him, whether they were taught by him at HSPVA, or whether they met him as a runner, biker, or neighbor. He was truly the epitome of a Southern gentleman. He was raised in a home where graciousness clearly reigned and he carried that with him. He loved as deeply as he was loved. I don’t know a single one of his friends who was not secure in the knowledge that Harold loved them, cared for them, and sought the best for them.

A few FPC friends wanted to share their thoughts:

LYNNE LANCASTER QUINN, FPC member, missionary and Preacher's Kid of longtime pastor Jack Lancaster:

There are so many wonderful times and fabulous experiences with my lifelong friend, Harold McManus. Here is just one reminder of how Harold touched many lives.

 I was born into a preacher’s home where Sunday lunch was quite the ordeal. My mother was not known for her cooking but that was no matter. We ate on china and used the best silver for Sunday lunch. I had moved in after a divorce so I wasn’t the most favored child. My two young sons moved in with me. As you can imagine, my parents were devastated, not only for my children but goodness, the talk in the community! Then there were my three sisters. As I was quietly tending to eating, my Dad said to the family, “I just wish Lynne could meet someone who was a gentleman, a scholar, a kind soul who knows what it is to be a Christian.” All three sisters and Mother chimed in with their opinions. Finally since no one was coming up with any good ideas, my Dad got the floor and said, “I’m talking about Harold McManus. He is such a fine man.” Immediately without hesitation, the oldest sister said, “Harold would never be interested in Lynne. She can’t sing and knows nothing about music. It’s just too late for her to be re-trained in college.” I’m sitting at the table and no one noticed me happening to be listening. So I decided to find out about Harold McManus.

 The next Sunday, I asked an usher who Harold McManus was and he pointed me to the front of the church. Harold came down from the organ; I introduced myself as a poor inner-city school teacher with two children of my own. I asked him if he could play the guitar and sing to my class of 4 year olds at Lockhart Elementary. He said without reservation, “well how about if I brought the Bell Choir?” Are you kidding? I truly thought he was joking. The date was planned and I became famous at Lockhart Elementary. Harold came multiple times to Poe Elementary, Horn Elementary, and Longfellow Elementary. He not only blessed me but hundreds of elementary students. I finally told him the story of what was said at the Sunday table. He laughed and said, “Oh no, the one that got away.” 

How could I ever thank Harold enough? He came to my parents’ home for choir parties and was the life of each party. He also was a fabulous cook and the food he brought was amazing. He continued to play the organ, run marathons, teach Algebra; and I continued to be blessed by just being in the presence of Harold McManus. I will always miss Harold. I will miss his letters after Christmas. I will miss his friendship and his talent. No one has ever played the organ like Harold. Say hi to my Dad in heaven, Harold. He really wanted you to marry me.

CARLA BURNS, FPC Chancel Choir, referring to our often raucously fun post-Christmas Eve parties:

I’ll never forget Harold’s accompanying us “off hours” as we sang Christmas carols while we enjoyed Christmas “cheer.”

BARBARA BUCKNER, FPC Chancel Choir member and substitute director, Houston musician:

I have never known anyone more authentic than Harold in his professional as well as personal life. He so disciplined and so joyous...and so loveable. 

I respected his sensitivity to the words of the hymns and the whole of music. He was, from all I ever saw and heard, so comfortable with himself that it was a privilege to be with him. 

I particularly remember spending a week with him at Montreat [the Presbyterian retreat center] when the then new hymnal came out. He would get up at some ungodly hour in the a.m. and run about 1,000 miles and come back for clean-up and breakfast. BUT after lunch was a seriously dedicated nap time and he’d grin and say, “JUST SUMMARIZE THIS NEXT EVENT FOR ME.” And I laughed so hard – EVERY day – and we spent a lot of minutes later joking about our “summaries.” I ALWAYS felt lucky to have Harold at the piano and the organ when I’d fill in for Ara. I knew he would save me from being totally embarrassed. 

And that’s Harold: disciplined, kind, thoughtful, enormously professional but with sensitivity and faithfulness to what he considered important. I hope he knew how much I valued him...and I’m sitting here grinning just thinking about how hard he tried to help me understand INTERGRAL NUMBERS. HE didn't fail but I never really “got it.” All in all, he was FUN...and most important of all, he was REAL and WELL WORTH LOVING! The fact that he was always REAL to me and kind to me meant so much to me. I am still flattered by the thought that he might have considered me as a friend. 

I think all of us leave some of ourselves behind...and Harold left us HIMSELF...available, real, and inspiring.  I don’t know of anyone I respected and admired and affectionately appreciated more than Harold. What a gift he was to our world.

ARA CARAPETYAN, FPC director of Music Ministries:

I have rejoiced in our communications in recent years; he has been consistently the most joyful of all the folk that I still communicate with. Always he rejoiced in his “good” state and the privilege of his ability to still serve the Church in its worship of our God. 

I will never forget his practice routines at FPC-H. He most often arrived in the side sanctuary door late at night, turned off security, and went to the organ console to practice. His hymn-playing was unquestionably the best I, in all my 60+ years of church music leadership, have ever experienced. 

I never knew until after Harold retired what a huge strength his simultaneous singing of the hymns gave to Houston First’s congregational hymn singing. That is a gift Harold consistently gave our congregation that I believe could not help but bring a smile to God’s face. A subtle point? Yes. But a palpable gift to us all; also yes! 

I’ve long missed Harold McManus. I will always treasure the unique and wondrous gifts of Spirit he brought us all when we worked together. I thank God hugely for His gift of Harold’s life to every one of us.

As for me, I came to Houston in 1990 as a young kid starting a Master’s program. FPC Chancel Choir was my side gig and Harold was one of the first people I met. His combination of gentleness and crazy fun-ness attracted me and we soon became best friends. He was game for just about anything. He was an integral part of our post-church Lunch Bunch— a group that quickly expanded into post-rehearsal Bunch, Birthday dinner and party Bunch and just hang Bunch.

He had the most infectious laugh—instantly recognizable—and completely unselfconscious. We rejoiced in hearing it and making it happen as often as possible. The best way was with puns and silly jokes—and if we could work math into them—all the better. He would get tickled by the most random things. Some friends of ours, the Borsts, had a cat named Marshmallow. There was somehow a kerfuffle about the pronunciation of this cat’s name and Marilyn was perplexed at why it was marshMEHlow, when it was spelled marsMÆlow. That would always set off howls of laughter.

I know his HSPVA colleagues have/had many stories to share about his time there, but I can also tell you how much he adored his teaching and how he was adored as a teacher. I’ve ended up with a few generations of his students as my college voice students. When I hear they are PVA alums, my first question was always, “Did you have Mr. McManus?” and the smile that suffused their faces always told the tale. Several of them expressed their sadness at his death.

I never saw him teach, but I had the pleasure of helping to assemble the end of year Strawberry cakes—  a labor of love that remains unsurpassed by any of my teacher friends. I also loved hearing about the Christmas quiz—and his glee at preparing the goodie bags and watching his students discover that he wasn’t only teaching math, but reading comprehension and direction following. [The quiz began with an admonishment to read through the entire quiz before answering any questions. There followed about a zillion hard math problems. The last one? Answer five questions and come get a present from the goodie bag. I may do that this semester in his honor!]

I could go on forever, but we’re on a deadline here, so I’ll close with this. Yesterday was my birthday [9/22]. I say that not as a shameless plug, but because Harold was the person who introduced me to the concept of the extended celebration. He’d say, “You have to celebrate for at LEAST a week!” Well, my habit is to play Earth Wind & Fire, because the first line of their song, “September,” is “Do you remember the 21^st night of September?” Yesterday, I kept getting distracted while trying to find it on Spotify and one song kept getting played. It’s called “I Write a Song for You.” A portion of the lyrics: 

Love is a symphony, hearts in one melody

‘Cause I write a song for you.

Sounds never dissipate, they only recreate in another place

There in your silent night, joy of a song’s delight,

I write a song for you, you write a song for me, we write a song for love.

              -Phillip Bailey, Al McKay, Steve Beckmeier

Our dear, sweet Harold wrote a song of love with his life. He wrote a symphony of love with his life. He will never dissipate—he’s only recreated—WHOLE and HEALTHY—in another place, with the God he loved, served, and joyfully worshiped. He IS a song of love.

September 23, 2016

St. Joseph Catholic Church

Macon, Georgia