I was shocked to receive a call recently telling me that Delma, my best friend from the third grade on, had been in a serious accident in her SUV. She had either blacked out or had fallen asleep while driving 60 mph on Bangerter Highway in Salt Lake City and her injuries were grave—both externally and internally. In my music studio I knelt by my piano bench and offered a pleading prayer for my friend as the memories of almost sixty-four years flooded over me.
A Friendship Begins
Our family moved from Ogden, Utah to the little farming community of Vale, Oregon when I was eight years old, and on my first day in my new school the teacher, Miss Hope, kindly assigned another Mormon girl to be my companion that week and show me the ropes. Delma and I were fast friends from that day on. We both loved music and sports, we walked to Primary after school on Tuesdays, and we enjoyed our church meetings together. I lived in the country on a farm and her family had a home in town, so we often spent Sunday afternoons at each other’s home after
Priesthood and Sunday School and before returning for sacrament meeting in the evening after the cows were milked. On some of those Sundays we would sit by a little stream in our cow pasture and write secret things in one of my dad’s Allis-Chalmers tractor journals, naming the boys we liked best, and listing all the adjectives we thought best described them.
We also went to western movies on Saturdays in the one little theatre in Vale. Children paid twelve cents and adults paid fifty cents. We loved Roy Rogers/Dale Evans movies, and also Gene Autry. My brothers made rubber guns out of old inner tubes and we often acted out the movies ourselves on our farm. Delma and I also saved our money to buy countless movie star magazines, and we sent for autographed pictures and swooned over our favorites. Howard Duff was our favorite in the movies, and Mario Lanza sent us into raptures as he started the theme song “Be My Love” on his weekly radio show. We had big-time crushes.
The Bond of Music
Delma was a serious piano student, practicing earnestly and progressing rapidly. I was more hit-and-miss. I was often in awe of how well she played, but it didn’t motivate me to practice harder.
On Sunday afternoons we would play piano duets—she taking the harder part, and I the easier.
We chose to play clarinet in the school band, but after a year or two we both switched to playing percussion instruments which turned out to be a lot of fun.
We had dances in our ward almost every week where all ages danced fox trots, waltzes, and line dances together. My parents played piano and drums in the Kapp Orchestra which played for all of these events and oh, did we have fun! When we reached dating age we had it good—there were twelve good faithful boys in the ward who were just one year older than we were and we had dates for every occasion where one was called for. It was a very happy time!
The church at that time was sending organ instructors out to the stakes to prepare them for church service. A Brother William Foxley was sent to Vale, Oregon and Delma and I took his classes and were soon called as organist and chorister in sacrament meeting. Though it seems odd now, looking back, there were a few years when Delma and I would stand on each side of the door to the church and shake hands with every person who entered and would give them a big smile and welcome. Life was simple and sweet. . . Some fifty years later I would say to her,
“It was always easy for me to make good choices as I grew up because I saw you doing everything right.” Her response surprised me when she said, “Is that the way you saw it? I thought I was following you!” That is the value of having a good friend.
A Heart-Wrenching Experience
Through our teen-aged years, Delma’s father Nephi was bishop of our ward, and my father Jacob was one of his counselors. The ward had a lot of fun during those years as we put on musicals and roadshows (mostly written by my mother Ruth), enjoyed pioneer picnics, and played on ball teams together. I loved to pitch softball and Delma was a solid first baseman, and all the teams in our stake took sports seriously. Life was great, and then Delma made a sad announcement one day:
Her father was one of the founders of the Ore-Ida Frozen Food plant in Ontario, Oregon, and felt that he needed to move to Ontario to be closer to his work. Ontario was only thirty minutes away and was still in our stake but we both knew it was too far to enjoy our friendship on a daily basis.
We were heartbroken. Even worse, Ontario was our hated rival in high school sports—how were we going to deal with that? With two years left in high school we parted ways, reassuring each other that our friendship would transcend any separation, and that we would get together at all the stake events and would visit each other as often as possible.
Somehow we got through those next years. I concentrated more on sports, practiced the piano more diligently, and prepared to go to BYU after graduation. Once Delma moved, I was the next best pianist at school and church and had many opportunities that I probably wouldn’t have had if she had been available. At graduation I received awards that I feel sure might have gone to her.
We saw each other occasionally and were always able to fall instantly into our friendship mode, but we hoped for a closer association at some point.
Brigham Young University
After graduation in 1956, we both headed to BYU where we were roommates in Heritage Halls! We majored in Music, had our Music Theory classes together, played percussion in the Concert Band together, and found that our friendship still fit like a comfortable old shoe. If we didn’t happen to have a date for an important event we would invite all the stuffed animals in our apartment to our room, set them in a circle on the floor and bring out a nice cake we had baked for the occasion. We set a piece of cake in front of each one of them. Anything they didn’t eat, we finished off ourselves. Delma and I also played hide-and-seek in our bedroom one evening. Of course, there was not really anywhere to hide in one room but we would just stand, sit or curl up somewhere and cover our head with a rug or towel, and the other person made up dialogue while pretending they could not find the one who was “hidden.” I guess you had to be there, but even now, fifty-five years later, I remember it as one of the most hilariously funny experiences of my college life.
One night when we had dates for a big dance, but our four other roommates did not, we came home to an amazing surprise.
Our roommates had stuffed our whole bedroom from floor to ceiling with wadded up newspapers they had been collecting for weeks. It was a total shock when we opened the door to our room and could not even enter. It took us until 4 AM to fold newspapers and get down to where we could get onto our beds. The rest we finished in the morning. We got more-than-even later, but I won’t go there.
Our Sophomore Year
After a summer at home with our families in Oregon, we returned to BYU excited to continue our friendship and our music classes. Delma accompanied school choirs and vocal students and I enjoyed playing some intramural sports. We still shared many music classes together and continued playing percussion instruments in the concert band. Once again we were roommates in Vilate Kimball Hall (Heritage Halls).
One evening Delma returned from a first date with my cousin Wayne Saunders, fell on her bed, and declared that she was officially smitten! “After one date?” I asked. “Yes! He put his hand on my shoulder when we stood outside our door, and it was as if lightning had struck me.” I could see the handwriting on the wall—I was about to lose my best friend! But on the other hand, if she were to marry my cousin we would be relatives and that would cement our friendship forever!
As fate would have it, I was soon feeling an attraction to a returned missionary who was in many of my music classes—Douglas Perry—and both Delma and I enjoyed a fun year of dating. We also finished our second year of Music Theory and for the final we each had to write a major piano solo. I loved this assignment and put my heart and soul into it. I titled my solo “Rondo” but realized it was a bit too difficult for me to play well. Delma didn’t enjoy composing as much but was very strong in performing so I asked her to perform my solo. It was a thrill for me to hear her play my solo so beautifully and as I listened, a foreshadowing of my future in composition passed through my mind.
We were both engaged to be married by the end of the year. She married Wayne in June in the Salt Lake temple, and I married Doug in September in the Logan temple.
Our Paths Diverge
Delma and Wayne stayed at BYU where he finished his schooling and they started their family which would eventually total nine beautiful children. Doug found he would be drafted into the military in the fall, so he enlisted in the army a couple of months before our marriage. We spent the first three years of our marriage in the service and the first of our five children was born at Ft. Ord, California. Afterward we returned to BYU where Doug continued his schooling and we resumed our close association with Delma and Wayne. Two more of our children were born in Provo and we shared happy times together with our growing little broods.
After Doug’s graduation we left for graduate school in Bloomington, Indiana and I didn’t see Delma for many years. Two more sons were born to us in Indiana. Doug and I had RH-factor, a blood incompatibility which caused problems for our newborns, the last three of which required blood exchanges at birth. Our last little son was overwhelmed by the problem and although doctors in Indianapolis tried dramatic measures to keep him alive, he passed away five hours after his birth. This was a very sad time for us with Christmas approaching. Just two days before Christmas I received a package from Delma which said, “Open on Christmas morning.”
After the children had opened their gifts, mostly provided by caring relatives back in Utah who knew we were poor students, and hurting, I opened my gift from Delma. Inside was a long plush velvet robe and the book Life Everlasting. The note, in her familiar handwriting, said, “After the children have opened their gifts please put on this comfy robe and find somewhere to curl up alone with this book which will bring you comfort and peace regarding your little son.” I did just that, and as I read, the years seemed to melt away and I felt comforted across the miles by her caring.
Life Goes On
Delma and I never lived in the same town again, but we have enjoyed our friendship by phone, and now by e-mail. We have tried to diet-by-phone countless times through the years. We haven’t had much success, except temporarily at times, but we’ve had fun working at it. Once when we were trying a new diet, she called me after two weeks and said, “I have been following this new diet strictly for two weeks now and all I have lost is fourteen days!” Did I mention that one of her most endearing qualities is her great sense of humor?
Now in our seventies, we still share our happy times and our challenges by phone and e-mail—her hip replacements, my stroke, and just whatever we want to talk about. And our lifetime of friendship allows the thoughts and words to flow freely with so much meaning between the lines because of all we have shared for so many decades. Just as in our college days, my interest has been in composing music, and her interest has been in performing classical music concerts regularly. She prepares an ambitious concert each year, invites extended family and friends, and treats us to an amazing display of talent that she has never let lapse through all the years. For instance her program in 2010 included: “French Suite #5” (Bach), “Sonata Pathetique” (Beethoven), “Claire de Lune” (Debussy), “Hungarian Rhapsody #11” (Liszt), and “Ballade #3” (Chopin). I marvel at her talents, her facility, her perseverance, and her bravery in performing these yearly concerts. Her husband Wayne has kept her in grand pianos through the years and has supported her talents in every way—the same blessing I have enjoyed from my own husband.
The Accident
I was truly shaken when I received news of her serious accident. At first our prayers were that she would live. . . and then that she would be able to recover from her terrible injuries and resume her productive life. After many weeks in the hospital, surgery to repair her shattered femur and time to heal from multiple injuries both external and internal, she was able to return to her home to continue her recovery in a wheelchair. I asked if she had been able to play her piano yet and she said she had tried but her fingers were so swollen and stiff that she was unable to play at all. My prayers then were that she would be able to play the piano again, and walk again and play the organ in church again.
We recently drove to her home in Herriman, Utah to see how she was progressing.
I loaned her the four-wheeled walker I had used after my stroke in hopes it would help her get around more easily and carry things from one place to another. I also brought soup and a good book to read, hoping to bring her a measure of comfort as her gifts had brought to me decades ago.
Her fingers were gaining strength and she was starting to sit at her piano and play for short periods. On her birthday in March (which was several months after her accident) Wayne helped her get to their chapel and onto the organ bench where she played a short, private concert for him.
I am so proud of her indomitable spirit! She still cannot walk without assistance and has pain from her injuries and surgeries, but she sewed herself a new mumu recently, is practicing the piano again, and can accomplish some tasks in the kitchen. She knows that realistically she cannot perform a classical concert this year, but she is choosing her repertoire now and starting to practice for the concert she plans to give in 2012.
I am very grateful that “the meter and melody of our friendship” can continue on for another season, that we can continue our unsuccessful attempts at phone dieting, that we can continue to share the ups and downs of our lives, and that I can look forward to next year’s concert with a whole new appreciation of our special friendship.
Janice Kapp Perry: composer, author, lecturer
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