Chapter 12 - Music in the Swiss Chalet

1950 - 1957

     Our music classes were held upstairs in the gray stone building called the Swiss Chalet, and it seemed to me that we spent nearly the entire hour learning the words to songs, mostly hymns. While leafing through some of the old Heralds, I found a reference to Mr. Ford’s pride in the fact that the students knew all the old hymns by heart and sang them during the daily chapel services without any need to use hymnals. Aha – suddenly it clicked – now I knew why we spent most of our music classes memorizing the words to hymns. Many of Mr. Ford’s wishes were kept going long after his death in 1947, and here was a perfect example of one of them.

     I enjoyed our music classes, though. I particularly remember my pleasure in learning the music and words to “Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor” (words on the Statue of Liberty and music by Irving Berlin), and thinking how much I loved the word “free.” I even remember where I was sitting when I thought about that word. It brought out everything noble in my young and passionate nature.

     The second scene is a generic one – I remember Mrs. Needham holding several sheets of paper and reading off the names of those who had to perform a recitation at a future chapel service. Imagine an ancient Roman reading off the names of those who would be next to fight a lion barefoot and weaponless and the anxiety of the prisoners as they awaited their fate. I think she did this on Fridays, and after reading our names, she handed us our assignment, either a reading (one could survive a reading) or the memorization of a poem (I must have had a mental block). Although my name was only called two or three times a year, I worried about it every week. I’m so glad I don’t have to do that any more.

     Fifth-graders spent several months preparing to see a performance of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra – I think it was called the Youth Concert. It was my only experience in music appreciation, and I really enjoyed it. I know that one of the pieces from “Swan Lake” was included, because I remember learning in music class that swans are supposed to only sing as they die, which is quite a dramatic tidbit, and thus memorable.

     On the day of the concert, we rode our bus downtown to the Masonic Temple, and felt quite lost in the amazing crowd. I’ve never seen the concert hall as full as it was that day – there were fifth-graders from all over the City of Detroit and the suburbs, too. The logistics must have been a nightmare. We were even allowed to buy a soft drink during the intermission, but there was only one choice in those days – orange soda pop. Some child must have been overly excited because on the way back to our seats after intermission, the hallways reeked of orange pop. I have never wanted orange pop since that day fifty years ago.

The Swiss Chalet in 2014