Entering the campus of my alma mater yesterday was like it was almost every time I have returned — it really is like coming home. Luther College is just one of scores of private, 4-year colleges in the world, but this is the one that holds so much special meaning for me, not only because of the memories I have of the place, but the people that I was met and exposed to there, and most importantly, what I learned there, which far surpassed even the best of what its engaging classrooms can offer.

Luther alums understand this feeling of returning to the place of your birth; in a sense, it was our place of a second birth, from the life of an uncertain teenager into the fresh yet enthusiastic one of an educated adult. Many of us experienced a great deal of growing pains while in this place; I have had some of my lowest lows and highest highs within my four years living there. How can one place on earth touch so many so deeply?

Both Yolanda and I made the 2.5 hour drive up yesterday, meandering across the countryside on the indirect route to the Oneota Valley, which is the only route to Decorah, given that there isn’t a straight or direct road anywhere near it. We then found the registration desk in the Center for Faith and Life for the event we were attending — the 25th Anniversary of the first-year choirs at Luther, Pike Kor and Norsemen, the former being for first-year women and the latter for first-year men, of which I was a member back in the 1996-97 school year.

We were a bit early, so we took the opportunity to wander around campus a bit and especially take in the changes to the Centennial Union, which underwent a major renovation/expansion since we had been there 2 years ago. It was amazing — walking into that building felt like I was in a completely different place with the shiny new walls, windows, and floors, but only for a bit — the familiar smells and sounds quickly reassured me that I was still in the same place, just with a bit of cosmetic surgery.

Practice for the combined current student & alumni choir started at 4pm, first with a gathering of everyone in the main hall of the CFL and then the men splitting off from the women to go into the CFL Recital Hall to rehearse. We then spent the next 30 minutes practicing The Last Words of David by Randall Thompson, a song that I sang while in the Iowa All-State choir back in high school, but this version was TTBB instead of SATB so I had to relearn a good deal of it anyway. The sound of the combined voices when we hit the first phrase threw me back 7 years and into my seat as this incredible blast of harmony and sound slammed into my heart and hit most of the strings on the way in.

We then recombined with the ladies to rehearse I Dream a World by André Thomas, a song which I loathed from the first note and continued to hate through to the last one in the concert. First off, the selection of this song was a poor one by the organizers. I realize that they were trying to pick something meaningful and yet easy to sing and learn in the hour of rehearsal that we took, but this is a pathetic piece that isn’t worth the ink blobs that it’s made of.

First off, it’s a song that was written dedicated to the “lost souls of September 11th” which sends red flags up immediately. Very little that was written, composed, sculpted, painted, or otherwise produced as a result of this incident has ended up being worth much, because most was done by people trying to express their emotions. While that is not bad in and of itself, it ends up in a bunch of folks who shouldn’t ever approach a piano composing songs because they feel that they must make a statement when all they really need is a good cry and a cappuccino.

Secondly, the song has a very oddly-timed, phrased, and notated score, which means that the choir participants spent most of the time, noses buried in the music, trying to decipher the hieroglyphics in front of us as opposed to making music and an impression on the audience.

Thirdly, Dr. Craig Arnold isn’t (at first impression) a very charismatic director and he was thoroughly unable to inspire us to sing anything at all. As I told my wife on the drive home, some music directors you sing or play for because they’re good directors and they know their shit. Some you perform for because they inspire you to do so. Dr. Tim Peter is one of those directors, the kind that, by simply walking into the room, both commanded respect as well as offering up the warmest of welcomes and comfort simply by throwing a smile in your direction. I have no doubt that Dr. Arnold knows his stuff and is a technically-excellent director and educator, but he inspired nothing within me.

Despite this downfall, we had a good rehearsal and then broke for dinner. Since my wife did not attend a full, four-year college or university and didn’t live on campus, she had never had cafeteria food and wanted to try it out, so we did exactly that and went to the Caf for supper. After wandering around the various lines for food and heaping our trays, we settled down into a long table and had some good conversation and food while we people-watched and I regaled her with stories of years gone by.

Afterwards, we headed to Marty’s CyberCafe and accosted one of the large, plush couches, plumping down and throwing our feet up for a rest while we watched the goings-on of the people around us and chatted. Eventually I had to go and get dressed into my concert gear, so I left her there and trudged back to the car.

The next 15 minutes was spent having a lesson in contortionisms, attempting to get naked and then redressed, all while in the front seat of my Mitsubishi Eclipse coupe, parked along one of the main drives of Luther. It was, to say in the least, interesting, and I’d be amused to know if someone ended up watching the entire procedure as I struggled and sweated and grunted in the front seat, tossing on a button-up black shirt, black pants, shoes, and socks. Halfway back to Marty’s I discovered that, in my haste to get my shirt on, I had buttoned it all crooked and that was causing me to feel very uncomfortable, so I ducked into a corner of Valder’s Hall of Science and fixed it as quickly as was possible with shaking hands.

I left Yolanda then and went back to the hall, had another rehearsal, and then fetched her for the concert. The lineup ended up being the Pike Kor with 5 numbers, of which Mouth Music by Dolores Keane/John Faulkner was most interesting, although their opening number of A Psalm of Praise by Eleanor Daley was exquisite in skill. Norsemen then followed with 6 numbers, with notable performances being Bless the Lord, O My Soul by Mikhail Ippolitiv-Ivanov (in Russian) and Fergus An’ Molly by Vijay Singh, the latter which was complete with choreography and was most entertaining.

Unfortunately, they also attempted to sing Lilly’s Eyes arranged by Peter Eklund, which I’m sorry to report they butchered. Dr. Peter accompanied the song (a rarity) and while that was lovely to listen to, the chorus had tons of synchronization problems and entrance/exit issues, as well as generally lacking a passion for the song which probably could have been better brought out had Dr. Peter actually directed it and left the ivory tinkling up to someone else. I was pretty disappointed, as I love that song and it can be done so well, but this was clearly a swing-and-a-miss.

There were two combined songs with both choirs, of which Finale from The Gondoliers by Gilbert & Sullivan was the best.

The combined students+alumni men did their number, students+women did their number, and we then did the aforementioned crappy combined piece, which turned out ok in the end but is still classified as a piece of trite musical literature. We got a completely-undeserved standing ovation and then we were done.

Yolanda and I grabbed some sweets and punch from the overly-croweded and steaming hot reception in the Union and took them outside into the crisp, nighttime Decorah air, sitting on one of the park benches and watching people walk about in the glow of the streetlights. We then took the scenic walk through campus on our way back to our car, me pointing out the various buildings, where I had lived and studied, and generally just enjoying each other and the lovely night.

We then headed on a quick spin around Decorah, got gas and some snacks at MicDick’s, and headed towards Sheffield, getting home and dropping into bed around 2:30am.

All in all, a successful trip to the Homeland, but one we’ll have to do again when it doesn’t directly involve scheduled activities so we can wander around more, enjoy the natural beauty of the area, and take in some more sights and experiences together.

It had been 2 years since I had been there, but the calling of it still rings strongly, and the air still rings of familiarity — I wonder if that will ever leave me. As Dr. Peter greeted me upon walking into the first rehearsal, he simply said with a warm handshake and a $10,000 smile, “Welcome home.”

And I was.