I think that we all experience a day, or event, which changes our lives forever. Maybe it’s that teacher who inspires us to become all that we’re capable of being. Or that girl or guy who upon meeting we know is the one, whose unconditional love guarantees a lifetime of happiness. Or, sadly, a moment in combat leaving psychological wounds which can never heal (PTSD). In my case, it was Easter Sunday in 1958.

Although my memory is mostly shot because of a combination of COVID and age, I can recall some things vividly, that day being one of them. I woke up to a glorious, sun-kissed Easter morning. After breakfast, I dressed in my brand new sport coat, shirt, tie and perfectly creased slacks. For mom, Vivian, purchasing new duds each Easter was a rite of spring ever since I was young enough to toddle. Then off to the First Baptist for the 9:30 a.m. Sunday school class taught by the pastor’s wife, Mary.

I’ve often referred in past articles to this most saintly of women as having a profound impact on my life. Each week we discussed passages from the New Testament which cumulatively had the same message-serving on behalf of others. To do so, she instructed, we had to learn to be kind. Once done, we could go forth and give a few hours of our time working to improve the quality of life of the lesser among us. In that vein, she taught us the meaning of empathy. By imagining the pain suffered by children victimized by the evils of poverty, we might be motivated to do something to ease that pain through acts of kindness, be it initiating a drive to collect good used winter coats or organizing a food drive for the local pantry. I shared her message with my students at HCCC who subsequently formed two organizations (Students for a Better World and Kris Cagwin Volunteers). Their demonstrations of empathy and kindness had profound effects on the quality of life in the Mohawk Valley. Her influence on me continues in the form of the Herkimer County Hunger Coalition.

Easter 1958’s service began promptly at 11 a.m. with the exceptionally talented First Baptist choir offering a stirring rendition of “Up from the Cross.” After Pastor Fred’s opening prayer, it was my turn. The reverend was renowned for offering congregants an opportunity to give a “guest” mini-sermon. In that regard, I guess he could be considered a religious “democrat.” I can remember a lot about that morning, but I can’t recall my presentation though, given my future reputation, it must have lasted more than the allotted five minutes. Then came the first part of my life changing experience. I received a round of applause.

Later in the service, I performed a trumpet solo. The pastor also gave church members an opportunity to display their musical talents. Unlike his evangelical counterparts today, he had no problem sharing the pulpit. I played “In the Garden,” which happened to be my mother’s favorite hymn. When I finished (on time), I received another ovation. This one standing. Part two of the above.

You see, until that day, I was one unhappy teen, burdened by an extremely low self esteem. That school year, I dropped geometry (no proclivity for anything spatial) putting me behind as far as graduation goes, and I got shot down more times than Carter has liver pills. Being woefully shy, geeky acting and sporting a puss covered with zits didn’t make for a chick magnet. Spent most of my allowance on Clearasil.

Athletically, I was shunned by the “in jock crowd” for not playing the only sport that counted, football. Vivian wouldn’t let me go out for fear that I’d get hurt. And, I was about to be relegated to the bench on the baseball team, my favorite sport. Maybe now you can see why I had such a poor image of myself.

All that changed in two hours that Easter Sunday morning. Amazing what two rounds of applause can do for a deflated ego. I discovered that maybe I was worth something after all. The trumpet was my salvation and Mrs. Thorne’s words my inspiration.

From that day on I doubled my practice time and got exponentially better on the horn, and the better I got, the more recognition (first chair; All-State). Socially, I came out of my shell, becoming a more confident, better spoken person. I took the same motivation to the pitching mound, earning All-Iroquois League honors my senior year. When I packed my K-Modified Selmer trumpet in its case and headed off to Fredonia State, I believed that there was nothing that I couldn’t accomplish.

I can’t recall the pastor’s sermon that morning but if it mirrored others, it might have gone like this. First of all, he was a great speaker with a booming voice that kept our attention and an evangelist who, unlike those counterparts today, preached love not hate, forgiveness not vindictiveness and never asked us to reach deeper into our pockets when the plate was being passed around. I think he would have asked us to remember that as Jesus gave up his life for us, we could give up committing the sins that made us less than the people we could be. He would have echoed his beloved wife’s words alluded to earlier-be kind. Give up using unkind, hurtful words towards others. Give up lying and deceiving ourselves by thinking that “white” ones are somehow okay. Give up hating our enemies by keeping in mind that Jesus encouraged us to love them. Give our time and treasure to help those in need-they’ll feel better and in so doing, so will we. He’d conclude with a prayer asking us to “love thy family and friends,” “”love thy neighbor,” and “love (in a selfless way) thy self.”

After service, we headed home for the traditional Easter feast of baked ham, scalped taters, asparagus and creamed onions. Hated them all so mom made me a grilled cheese sandwich. Dessert? Two helpings of homemade apple pie topped with fresh whipped cream. Never could resist dessert, then or now. That night, I hit the sack with a smile on my face, the applause still ringing in my ears. Little did I know then that my life had changed; not just for the next day but, as it turned out, forever. Easter 1958 was truly happy. May yours be so this year.

Ray Lenarcic is a 1965 State University of New York at Fredonia graduate and is a resident of Herkimer.