Ode to an incomparable voice

A voice so big and unforgettable, it could only come from a man so described.

At 85, my father-in-law stands in front of the mic, and bellows out a song. Remarkably, the sound is crisp and the pitch is perfect. His voice cuts through the room causing eyebrows to rise and smiles to emerge on faces like they always do whenever old Tom Gibbons sings. It’s as if the years melt away and the voice of his youth remains.

Raised under another roof, Tom might have made his way to Juilliard in New York City and onto the Met. Or maybe head downtown to make a name on The Great White Way, belting out show tunes and wowing audiences with a twinkle in his eye and two dimpled cheeks framing a wide smile. The oldest of three, raised under Paul and Mary’s roof in a southeast Missouri railroad town, Tom grew up in church, almost literally. The First Baptist Church parking lot touched the corner of the Gibbon’s property. He learned early that singing to honor God also did something for the people listening, touching something deeper inside. Song imprints the spirit in ways the spoken word can only aspire to do. Tom learned that doesn’t only happen in church, it happens wherever music lives.

In High School he sang in choir, played in the band and, like other small-town boys, played whatever sport was in season. In football, he led his team to a historic victory over Sikeston, Missouri, his senior year. Don Faurot gave him a scholarship, but his time at the University of Missouri was short-lived. By the time he got to campus, Coach Faurot had retired and he had to play under Frank Broyles. Freshmen didn’t play varsity in those days and he didn’t get to play much in Freshmen games. He told the story of the coach calling for Gibbons from the sideline. He ran from the bench eager to get in the game when coach asked, “what size shoe do you wear?” Fortunately his wasn’t the right size shoe so Tom got in the game. By the next season, though, Coach Broyles had had all he wanted of Columbia, and Dan Divine came to town. Apparently Coach Divine didn’t need another undersized lineman or a slow fullback (that’s how Tom described himself), so Tom returned home to Southeast Missouri State University where he played football, studied music education, met and married his college sweetheart, … and sang.

A voice so big and unforgettable, it could only come from a man so described.

Boy, could he sing. He got selected to travel with a college choir in New York and all over Europe where he was a featured soloist. He sang in church, too, and before long, he was in demand to come and sing and lead music in church services all over Southeast Missouri. After getting married and giving seminary a try, he and his wife, Barbara, and baby daughter Rachael, returned to Southeast Missouri where Tom started a career as a band director. By 1967, he and Barbara were hired to teach in the West County Saint Louis school district, where they raised their family that now included twins Emily and Tommy. Barbara taught ninth grade English, and Tom directed the band. He would go on to serve as the music supervisor for the growing suburban district and become a mentor to a whole generation of music teachers.

Tom hired a lot of great teachers. One hire came to Tom after teaching a year or so and asked to be let out of her contract because she wanted to go to Los Angeles and try to make it in the music industry. Tom told her go with his blessing, while you are young and can do it. If things didn’t work out, Tom told her she could come back and he would give her a job because she was a very good teacher. Sheryl Crow never came back to West County to teach, but we all know the rest of her story.

The story of Tom’s teaching career ended in 1993, when he and Barbara retired. They traveled and spent time with their children and grandchildren and now have spent more years in retirement than in years working as teachers. But the music didn’t stop with retirement. It continues. People still notice when Tom Gibbons sings.

These days Tom sits at home and watches television with Barbara. He doesn’t say a lot, though when he does, it is always pleasant and brief. He doesn’t get out much, either. On Sunday’s he sings with the choir. When the senior adult choir sings a concert, he will be there. He doesn’t drive anymore so Barbara drives him to doctor appointments or when they go out for lunch. If you ask him how his appointments went, or how was lunch, he will turn to Barbara for the answer because he doesn’t remember.

Dementia is like that. It robs you of short-term memory and prevents you from remembering how to do even the simplest of tasks like driving a car into town and back again, or operating a power tool, or playing a board game. Fortunately, Tom’s illness hasn’t robbed him of finding joy in the moment, of being present when others are near. He lives at home around people who love him and he recognizes most of the time. He smiles and is thankful, sometimes saying so, other times just grinning and hugging a neck.

But stand him up in front of a microphone and play a familiar accompaniment on the piano, his face lights up. He takes a breath. He sings. And oh that voice. That unforgettable voice. It’s there just as it was in Sunday School as a child, and in high school singing at the school assembly. It still captivates listeners as it did in college on tour in Europe and in the seminary chapel with its power and its clear tone. I close my eyes and the years melt away. He’s young Tom Gibbons again.

Jefferson City News Tribune, September 23, 2024.