There has never
been a teacher that has had such a profound effect on my adult life as
Howard Vierra. From my earliest musical beginnings as a 10 year old fifth
grader at the Fifth Street School to the honor of receiving the 1956 Musical
Achievement Award in my senior year at Livermore High, Howard took a child
squeaking and squawking on a saxophone and molded that child into a
professional musician.
One of my dearest and proudest memories of Howard occurred during rodeo
weekend 1966. I was playing at a Livermore night club with The Townsmen, a
four piece combo made up of myself and three other local musicians. Howard,
along with his lovely wife, paid a visit to the club that evening. He was
dressed in attire appropriate for rodeo festivities; jeans, a western shirt
and hat. After an hour or so of listening and dancing, Howard and his wife
departed, but not before they stopped by the bandstand where Howard
complimented me on my performance. As I look back on that evening, I
sometimes wonder if Howard remembered visions of a 10 year old fifth grader
that squeaked and squawked learning to play sax so many years before. For
me, the remarks he made on that unforgettable evening in June 1966 will
always hold a special place in my memory and in my heart. To be complimented
by your mentor is the ultimate tribute.
Howard dedicated his life to teaching music to the children of the Livermore
School District. He gave many hours to after-school activities, which took
him away from his home and family both in the evenings and on weekends. As I
look back now, I know that Howard enjoyed his profession immensely. There
were humorous times too. I can recall on several occasions that, when
conducting the band in practice sessions, he would sometimes get
particularly perturbed with a student or even a whole instrument section for
making an unforgivable mistake. In disgust, and to illustrate his disgust,
he would get off his stool, throw his baton on the floor and turn away from
the band muttering something unintelligable under his breath. Yes, he was
upset. And he punctuated his disdain with theatrics that weren't to be
laughed at then. However, looking back today and remembering those theatrics
brings a warm smile to my face.
Howard passed away on February 17, 1984.
Ted Saselli
I will
always
remember him.