Miss Brooke who died April 7, 2006, is that teacher I see in my mind's eye when I sing or when I am overcome with pride singing a patriotic song. She was my music teacher at Schneider School. She made us memorize patiotic songs writing them over and over until we got all the words correct.

In Miss Brooke's classroom, composers and musicians like Beethoven were real people to us. Real people who overcame great obstacles to produce great works. Miss Brooke would keep us mesmerized telling us stories like the brutal beatings Beethoven's father gave him and how he boxed him around the ears probably causing Beethoven's total deafness the last ten years of his life.

When Miss Brooke sat on the piano stool, tapped her foot, and pumped the keys with such life, she transformed her love of music to her classes, and we sang with all our hearts.

Once I brought a caterpillar to school and hid it in her cloakroom. I loved that little creature, but while we were having class the caterpillar got loose and dropped on the floor. Someone stepped on it, and I was crushed. Instead of scolding me for sneaking the caterpillar into her cloak room, Miss Brooke was sad for me and gave me a hug.

Later after college when a friend asked me to sing in her wedding, I asked Miss Brooke to accompany me. That was the last time I saw Miss Brooke, but her enthusiasm and teaching will be with me forever.

Thanks, Miss Brooke.