50+ Lifestyles

Unending Inspiration

By David W. Deuth, CFSP
President, Weerts Funeral Home

Recently, Linda and I had the great pleasure of attending a magnificent performance by the legendary violinist, Itzhak Perlman, in which he both played his violin and also conducted the orchestra. As expected, the concert hall was packed and the expectations high as the orchestra came onto the stage. There would be no disappointment.

The concertmaster entered the stage to tune the orchestra in typical fashion, excepting one thing: he had two violins in hand instead of just one. Carefully, he rested one of the two instruments on his chair and proceeded to tune the orchestra. The concertmaster picked up the second violin and was seated. The crowd hushed.

Slowly, Mr. Perlman appeared from the side of the stage, the place where conductors and soloists generally emerge. As is typical, the audience began to applaud…but as this world-renowned virtuoso, stricken with Polio since the age of four, came into the full view of the audience, it was evident that each step forward was hard work, arms labored against crutches, the subsequent swinging forward of the legs both deliberate and slow.

The initial, courteous applause thundered to an immediate crescendo as the crowd instinctively rose to their feet in finish-line-style for the now-69-year-old legend in final approach to the chair from which he would both perform as the featured soloist and also conduct the orchestra, also on their feet in full wonderment and applause.

Clumsily he seated himself and lay each crutch alongside his chair, then turned to reach for his violin from the concertmaster at his left. Receiving the instrument, he turned it at once to its backside and over-emphasized a raised eyebrow toward the concertmaster– jokingly insinuating that the concertmaster may have slipped him the “second fiddle,” as it were. The crowd chuckled, then erupted into applause once again; an appropriate levity between a legend’s appearance and his performance.

Following his incredible solo work in Bach’s Violin Concerto No. 2 – during which he also conducted the orchestra – the virtuoso exited the stage in unhurried yet persistent form all his own to a rousing standing ovation. He would return mere minutes later, another persistent and visibly laborious passage from the rear of the stage, this time to the conductor’s podium. As he would remain seated to conduct, the podium is raised; three steps. How will…? Surely a stagehand will assist with those steps. The concertmaster perhaps? No, slowly he approached the steps before him, glanced at the audience – still applauding and once again on their feet – and slowly, amazingly, lifted and twisted his body by his forearms against the crutches. Step. By step. By amazing step. Another inspiring performance of an entirely different kind and the crowd goes wild. Turning and seating himself on a chair atop the six-foot-wide platform took some time; no matter to him. It’s his way of life. The applause finally subsides; continued wonder.

Now seated, he wipes his brow before lifting the baton to conduct Schubert’s monumental and majestic Symphony No. 9, The Great. It runs a little better than an hour. Before the sustainment of the final note has fallen, the crowd thunders to their feet in raucous applause as he slowly, deliberately reaches for his crutches, stands as he does and slowly descends the podium to bow to his audience, all of whom remain awash in wonderment and continued applause. He credits those behind him: the horns, the trumpets, the winds; the entire orchestra. He takes a final bow before beginning yet another painstaking journey to the rear of the stage against the unrelenting backdrop of intense applause.

Musically, a truly memorable and splendid evening; inspirationally, all the more. In this most incredible evening, in the company of this musical legend, I was wholly unprepared to find myself completely torn inside. On the one hand, what a testament to determination, hard work, persistence and perseverance, this Itzhak Perlman. Whether as legendary violinist or as resolute human being who must rise above irreversible adversity each time he moves about, one could not but be inspired by this man. I mean truly inspired.

Yet, as a longtime Rotarian – whose worldwide crusade since 1985 has been to eradicate Polio from the face of the planet – my heart was anguished by the thought that only three small drops of a vaccine which became available just years after he became afflicted would have easily prevented the illness that has now plagued him for over six decades.

Rotarians will continue to contribute to the PolioPlus initiative; it’s a part of who we are. Only three countries remain for complete conquest, it’s that close.At this very moment, there are hundreds – perhaps thousands – of Rotarians and Rotary sponsored humanitarians mobilized to provide that immunization to thousands upon thousands of children where it is desperately needed; every Rotarian is proud of that. And should be.

Itzhak Perlman will continue to contribute to the world of music as a violin virtuoso just as he will continue to be a Polio survivor; each an undeniable part of who he is. Whether he considers himself a violin virtuoso who happens to be a Polio survivor

– or a Polio survivor who happens to be a violin virtuoso – I could presuppose neither. I am content to say, however, that I have found his best and most meaningful work to be the flawless composition and performance of a vibrant symphony of unending inspiration. His other significant accomplishments notwithstanding, for this, he can be most proud.

And should be.

Remember Well.

David W. Deuth, CFSP, is a funeral director and is the owner of Weerts Funeral Home in Davenport and RiverBend Cremation and Quad Cities Pet Cremation in Bettendorf. He can be reached at 563.424.7055 or by email at Dave@WeertsFH.com. For more information about the Rotary’s PolioPlus initiative, please visit https://www.rotary.org/myrotary/en/take-action/end-polio.