Saturday Mornings With Leonard

Today we mourn the passing of Leonard Kokesh. I cannot say that I was completely surprised to hear that he had died, since I don’t believe that I had ever truly considered his age or his health. I can remember that he smoked, but was always careful to do it out of sight and out of respect for his students he never did so in front of them. Sometimes his cough would have a little extra rattle to it, but it wasn’t something that raised any real concern. Leonard was the man who taught me to play tuba and trombone. He taught my brothers to play clarinet and saxophone as well. He was a short man who made up for a slightly crooked posture with a laugh that came directly from his belly.
In all the years that he taught the three of us, we were invariably his first lessons on a Saturday morning. We would arrive before the store opened, first at Music Showcase and later at two different locations of Swalley’s Music. Leonard was already there, nursing a cup of coffee, ready to go even when we weren’t. One of us would put their instrument together and head into the practice room. The others would sit quietly outside, listening and searching for a magazine that had been published in our lifetime from among the reading material scattered around the waiting room. When it was your turn, Leonard would accompany you on piano and give pointers on embouchure, wind, and periodically on the girls we were dating. He was the guy who taught me how to slip the clutch on my Vega. Leonard was not just a music teacher.
Sleep well, Leonard – you taught us all, and you taught us well.