Anthony T. Rauche 

Dear Wanda,

I write to you to express my sympathy at Bruno’s passing. In the weeks since hearing this news I knew that I would write to you, but I put off sending my letter. Please forgive my procrastination in this regard. I don’t completely understand why I have been reluctant to write, but I think part of it is knowing that it will be one of the last times I write about Bruno, at least in a very personal way, and in particular to you, because along with Bruno you have always been kind and generous to me.

Before I knew who Bruno was (!) I was interested in North American Indian music. I ordered his master’s thesis and made a copy of it. Then in 1979, I applied for an NEH summer grant. Bruno was running one of those and he accepted my application and that’s when I first experienced Urbana and got to know him and you, and the UI campus. I applied for doctoral studies and spent the next two years in Urbana, eventually took my exams, etc. I do remember that when I was there for my preliminary exams that Bruno and you were kind enough to take me to dinner one evening and that was very nice.

That summer of 1979 was fun because Bruno had selected a lively group of folks and by the end of the 8 weeks together we had had several dinners and parties. We did a dinner at your home of Chinese foods. At the end of the summer we wrote a funny index of articles as a fake festschrift in honor of Bruno. I was already impersonating him (something I have continued to do every now and again!) and we had a great time.

Bruno was always kind. Yes, he could be strong and imposing through his tone, but he was essentially kind. When I arrived as a doctoral student I expected to have Bruno as my advisor, but to my surprise I was assigned to Larry Gushee. But the fact is that Bruno was always available to me if I had questions or wanted to talk about something. That’s the thing I remember most about our interaction. He was always there for his students—for all the students in musicology.

I know that Bruno’s legacy as a scholar and teacher is the crowning glory of discipline and a life od dedication. Important as that is, I would assert that Bruno’s personal integrity, civility, and sheer humanity are also part of his crowning achievements! You probably know that better than anyone.

I was happy to have written poems for Bruno’s 80th and 85th birthdays, and the recent one last fall. I planned on writing one for his 90th and may still do that, at least I have already started it. Of course, I will send you a copy. (And I know I kept coaxing him “…brush up on your shuffle board…” with anticipation of the 90th Birthday Cruise that I was promoting!)

And I must praise you for your own fantastic artistic creations! I was so happy that Bruno sent a copy of the book printed with all your work. I have enjoyed looking at it many times. I only wish I had hung around your house more when I was in Urbana, with the thought that something you made might have fallen into my hands!! You command great beauty and charm in your work. Thank you for sharing that with me.

So, I send my sincere and warmest regards to you, and Becky and Gloria. I don’t believe that one’s spirit disappears or dissolves at death. I think the spirit is strong and endures, although I am not exactly sure how that happens, but I just know from my own life and experiencing the loss of those I have loved, that we will always be connected in one way or another. As Emily Dickenson wrote, “Parting is All We know of Heaven, and All We need of Hell.” Bruno’s voice hides out in numerous publications, in the memory of his words in class and at Treno’s, and in those personal moments, like after my oral exams when Bruno turned to me and said, “You know Rauche, you talk too much!” Now that’s someone who really cared.

My love to you all.