on Richard Forrest Woods -- Part 1

Richard Forrest Woods (1929-1993) served as Organist/Choirmaster of the Church of St. John the Divine (Episcopal) in Houston for the final twenty years of his life, during the last three of which I was his assistant. You are now reading the first of MANY posts forthcoming, of an unofficial biography of Dick, interwoven with my own memoirs and interpretations. There is a reason for that potentially convoluted approach:

Dick retired in 1993, just before the Internet came into its wholly ubiquitous presence. The first substantial mention of him on the Internet is an earlier post of mine with some photos, published seventeen years after Dick’s death, with nothing else emerging online since. After posting that entry, I heard from several people around the country who sang under Dick or knew him or otherwise knew of him. They had discovered the blog post and wanted to know more. I was particularly moved by one fellow who sang as a boy chorister in the early 1960s under Dick at St. James, Wichita. He shared the heartbreaking story of Dick being dismissed from that position on false charges and the boychoir being immediately disbanded under the don’t-ask-any-questions-you-kids mandate typical of the times. But he remembered the sense of dignity, purpose, and musical beauty that Dick introduced to him and his fellow choristers, and he was keen to learn more about Dick’s whereabouts after that. When I connected this gentleman with a couple members of the choir at Dick’s final post, St. John the Divine, Houston, I saw admiration flow in their writing, an admiration I have come to expect from all who worked with Dick.

For decades myself, I have been in a similar frame of mind as that former boy chorister: revisiting my past with lessons learned, hoping to learn more, searching for closure or more information, revisiting happy memories, and better understanding the bad ones. It was then that the inspiration came to research all of Dick’s previous positions, as sources and eyewitness interviews were available. I had planned a full-length, publishable biography, but for most of his previous positions and family history, the history is so scant and so haphazardly preserved (if preserved at all, in that pre-digital age) that there would be very little foundation on which to construct a document of any scholarly merit. Furthermore, my attempts to reach a few folks who knew Dick during his pre-Texas era failed. Without their input and insights, a would-be document would have suffered even more.

Then I thought I might deposit what I had into an archive somewhere, such as with the Association of Anglican Musicians or the American Guild of Organists. But then I realized that anyone searching for Dick, who more than likely would be more admirer than scholar, wouldn’t find that. And so it is here in public, in a looooong series on this website, as a tribute not only to Dick but also to those who loved him and cherish their days with him. I hope that any readers here who might be admirers of Dick Woods will reconnect somehow with this ‘renaissance man’ [Bruce Power’s endearing term] who served all too briefly among them.

For now, a few acknowledgements while I gather my notes and start writing:

John Gearhart, Dick’s successor at St. John the Divine, Houston, and my boss for one year there, has been gracious and forthright with his memories and perspectives. Although he never met Dick, he provided me with much-needed insight into the political and administrative workings of that parish that affected Dick. The support I have always received from John and from his former wife Laurie has been a welcome and calming presence in my life since first meeting them in 1993.

Bruce Power, who during Dick’s years in Houston was Assistant Organist/Choirmaster of Christ Church Cathedral, was one of Dick’s closest confidantes and kindred spirits. His insights into Dick as a friend have been invaluable in enriching my understanding of the man beyond the musician. Dick once told me that he considered Bruce ‘a true friend,’ and I know from my own friendship and collaborations with Bruce since 1990 that that was more than superficial praise.

Ron Wyatt, recently retired from Trinity Church in Galveston, was Dick’s executor, friend, champion, sounding board, and much-needed voice of reason over a span of decades. It has been a pleasure to reconnect with Ron, hear more stories, bust a gut in laughter, and shed a tear or two.

To a person, the many people I have been able to visit with and learn from have been united in their devotion to the man Richard Woods, who brought them together in music from day one. Their care in tending to Dick and his memory is inspiring. And their ‘stories’ match: Dick changed their lives through music and friendship. Their multi-faceted insights have brought to this author an immeasurably enriched awareness of a man I worked for and worked with, but whom I knew for only thirty-seven months.

Many more installments to follow.

A fond memorial: Richard Forrest Woods (July 26, 1929 – May 15, 1993)

Dick Woods never tired of the beautiful and the excellent. He worked and worked to get a sound just so, and it paid off. He ended up with the finest church choir in Texas (thank you very much), for which I was privileged to serve as Assistant Organist for four years. Dick was a musico-liturgical conservative, but he was progressive in knowing that there is room for everyone in church music. He found a way to maintain excellence and still avoid being classified as snobbish, surely the most delicate balance a church musician can strike, and a particularly difficult task for Dick’s generation.

Dick’s funeral was beautiful. I will never forget that hour with so many current and former choir members in attendance, vested and singing the Vaughan Williams O how amiable, the Tallis If ye love me, and the Mendelssohn He that shall endure, among others. I still see some of the choir members each year; we celebrate Dick’s birthday with Mexican food. (He still draws a crowd!)

Richard Forrest Woods was of “Pennsylvania Dutch” heritage. He studied with Marshall Bidwell at the Carnegie Institute before serving in the Navy band and attending Tulane University. From 1962-1964, he studied in Paris with Boulanger, Langlais and Marchal, and was among the first four Americans to receive the Diplôme Schola Cantorum. Dick served as parish musician at St. James (Wichita), the Cathedral of Holy Angels (Gary), and St. John the Divine (Houston). Prior to Houston, he served as Professor of Music at the Episcopal Theological Seminary of the Southwest.

[Update: On September 30, 2014, I discovered some of Dick's notations in his copy of the 1945 Prayer Book, which indicated the date he acquired the book (1949), plus some additional church positions he held: Trinity Chapel (Sharpsburg, PA), Grace (New Orleans), St. David's (Austin), and St. Matthew's (Austin). Obviously, the church positions were added as he served. He was only 20 years old when he acquired the book. There is also the signature of The Rt. Rev. Girault M. Jones, Bishop of Louisiana, dated April 7, 1957.]

Dick’s death left the choir with me – a 25-year-old whippersnapper with 1) a Baptist background, 2) no idea how to deal with a death like this, and sometimes 3) little more than the knowledge that the show must go on. The choir turned their full support to me, and we managed just fine in the interim, making beautiful music each week. I recently dug out a Nunc dimittis tribute I wrote in the church newsletter soon after Dick died. I have brought it out of the dusty archives of my 20s and posted some excerpts below:

"Dick woods taught me a lot, whether he knew it or not. I learned how to use a computer; I learned what a good choir sounds like…

"I learned that if one was with Dick, one could march directly to the front of the line at Ninfa’s Navigation on a Saturday night and be seated immediately. (Incidentally, Dick was perhaps the only person in the world who drank margaritas straight up with no salt.)...

"The most valuable knowledge I gleaned from Dick was that of the Episcopal tradition. As I began work at [this parish], I found that there was more to being an Episcopalian than many people know. But Dick knew. There is a certain amount that one may know and retain simply through lifelong practice, but there is something more to be said for the person who studies, practices, and teaches what goes on in our great faith. Such a person was Dick Woods. I will always be in awe of his vast knowledge of and intimacy with the liturgy. It was somewhat frustrating at times to learn from him; his humility and general quietness made it necessary for me to ask questions. Dick never volunteered much information, but if one would ask, the wisdom that poured forth was generous, awesome, and inspiring…

"He knew precisely what was Episcopal and what was not, and if he didn’t know something, he knew where to look for answers. Dick was not a fundamentalist but rather a traditionalist. No one was more open-minded toward the current trends in the Church than was Dick. Through that open-mindedness, he provided this parish with a greatly diverse music program that was without equal in its day. From Evensong to Eucharist to Morning Prayer to concerts and tours, somehow he managed the difficult task of incorporating all of the various changing preferences into an unchanging, age-old liturgy – always in good taste and always well prepared...

"Richard Woods was one of the last of an amazingly fertile and prosperous generation of true liturgists … The Choir of [this parish] is most fortunate to have achieved musical and liturgical perfection; the people of this church are a most fortunate people to have had such expertise available to them. And I am most fortunate to have worked with Dick, even if just for a short while …"

Rest in peace, dear peaceful one.