Let's Make Summer Music

Homage to Bob Creech

This is an attempt at a homage (or an homage – pronounce it as ye will) to Bob Creech, and a poor one at that.
Not being a Classical music connoisseur, let alone a buff, I’m not privy to what Bob Creech has achieved in a lifetime of dedication to Classical Music and the education of children in Classical Music. But I know, from the lips of many internationally renowned classical musicians who have given freely of their time in successive Summer Music on the Shannon festivals, that his achievements are gargantuan. I let it to those in the know to fill in the details.

I am writing from my personal experience of Bob Creech.
When Bob asked me to take over the running of the SMS office in UCH, from his wonderful wife  Nancy 5 years ago, I was both flattered and petrified. I was flattered because I couldn’t understand why Bob could have such faith in me since, to my mind, I hadn’t proven that I could manage anything, let alone the chaotic maelstrom that was Summer Music on the Shannon. I was petrified because I lacked the confidence and belief in myself that I could do it. Yet, such was my respect for Bob that I could not refuse his request, so I accepted.
That first year in UCH was utter hell for me. SMS didn’t have an office, but was situated in the open area of the ground floor in the Foundation Building between the toilets and the Emergency Exit. I think that says something about how UCH saw the programme at the time – I may rue saying this, but I’ve never been a shrinking violet when it comes to speaking my mind and I don’t intend to start being one now. All that was between the office staff and the outside world were some hastily assembled tables. I remember being constantly worried about somebody making off with our computer equipement, despite the fact that our computer equipment was so outdated as to be worthless, so nobody in their right minds would have touched it anyway. I always did make sure to take my laptop with me wherever I went, however. What was worse was having to talk to the parents of the children on the programme. I felt a mixture of terror, fright, confusion and embarrasment (not necessarily in that order) everytime somebody asked me a question. This heady mix was enhanced by a healthy dollop of worry that something would go drastically wrong, with panic waiting in the wings to make a grand entrance when it did. Eventually I got used to dealing with the public and I relaxed a bit. I think it was only after the third year that I felt I had a handle on how things worked, and more importantly, on how things didn’t work and what to do when they didn’t.
Experience is a great teacher.

[To be continued...]