The sound of a squeak on the clarinet is like the sound of scraping fingernails on a blackboard, very excruciating. Squeaking occurs routinely during early learning. I wish there had been another way – for me, my family, and the neighbors who endured summer practice.
You would think Mr. Morochko would have spared everyone, but he would not relent until I had proven my respect for the classical and at least given a nod to John Phillip Sousa. Finally, one day, he said, “OK, you are ready for the saxophone”. I agreed instantly and I was happy that good behavior was not part of the deal.
At first it was an alto sax, on loan and typical for beginners, but soon I ‘graduated’ to the tenor sax which Mr. Morochko was happy to sell to my parents. The tenor was much more cooperative, more willing than the exacting alto.
Make no mistake, Mr. Morochko made me work hard for my dream and I am thankful for his lessons.
For many years thereafter I saw him at the local Fourth of July parade and he always smiled and said, “Hi, Paul”… I was happy to be remembered)))