When in 1961, my junior year at CSU/Fullerton, I was asked by Dr. Justin Gray of the music department to perform Telemann's Suite in A Minor for Flute and Strings with the university symphony, I was both elated and terrified. I had transferred to the California State University system from Oberlin Conservatory and, no longer a music major, wondered if I'd have time to get up to speed on the piece, considered the finest work for flute and strings in the classical repertoire. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I began practicing the piece during every spare moment. Not only is the Telemann Suite at the top of the flute repertoire, it is without question one of the great masterworks of the Baroque era, so it was important to do it justice.

To my surprise the performance went well. Complete strangers came up to me afterward and praised my romantic interpretation of the baroque work. (I didn't think it necessary to tell them I had borrowed the interpretation from the great Vienna flutist, Hubert Barwahser). One the people who came up to the orchestra was composer Donal Michalsky, protege of Ingolf Dahl; and, in what must be called the highlight of my brief musical career, he shook my hand and said: "I had no idea you played so well."

A few days later Justin Gray handed me the flute part to Michalsky's Trio Concertino for flute, oboe and horn. I was, of course, honored, but in even more of a funk than I had been with the Telemann Suite. The rhythms and intervals of the Concertino were distinctly modern and diabolically difficult, and after hours of practice I could not seem to get the notes under my fingers. I was clearly in over my head. But how was I to explain this to the people who had placed such confidence in me? I think Donal Michalsky must have sensed my dilemma, because a few days later there was a knock at the front door. It was the composer! He was extremely apologetic. He had decided to give the part to another flutist (Archie Wade, of the Capitol Studio Orchestra). I wonder if he saw the relief on my face. What a Mensch! To have driven all the way to the house himself instead of sending some functionary from the music department. It was the act of a kind and thoughtful man, a gentleman in every sense of the word. I felt doubly honored.

A few years ago I googled Donal Michalsky's name to see where his distinguished career had led him and was shocked to learn that he and his family had perished in a fire that had swept through his home in Newport Beach on December 31, 1975. He had died in the prime of life at the age of 47. Apparently the fire started after a New Year's Eve party. Someone had forgotten to place the fire screen in front of the fireplace.