Gordon W. Van Wormer

Gordon W. Van Wormer, 82, passed on peacefully on January 1, 2020 at his home in Painted Post, NY after a lengthy illness. He was the husband of Sandra (Burdick) Van Wormer. They shared 59 years of marriage.

Born in Athens, PA, he was the youngest son of Adsit and Walter Van Wormer. He graduated from Mansfield State Teachers College with a bachelor's degree in music education. He received a master's degree in music education from Ithaca College. His teaching career spanned elementary, junior and senior high, with teaching positions in Canastota, NY, Corning Free Academy, and Corning-Painted Post West High School, where he taught music theory, vocal music and percussion. His published choral and band compositions were performed by high school, college, and professional ensembles, and his arrangement of the Monty Python theme for the marching band percussion line was legendary on the football field.

When he found no adequate text for teaching music theory at the high school level, he spent a summer at the kitchen table and the piano writing his own, for use in the classroom. For nearly a decade, he masterminded the annual musical extravaganza known as the "Pop Machine" which featured both student and professional arrangements of popular music from every era and often outlandish costumes and skits. He was an active and sought-after mentor of young musicians, and he coached vocal and instrumental musicians throughout their early careers.

In his retirement, he focused on the visual arts as well as music, and produced many drawings and watercolors. He was a member of the Motet Singers, Community Band, and a Meals-on-Wheels volunteer. He was a member of Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia, a professional music fraternity.

He attended the Church of the Redeemer in Addison, NY, where he sang in the choir.

Gordon is survived by his wife, Sandra; daughters, Tobi Andrews and Nancy Solla; one grandchild; sister, Mary; and many nieces and nephews.

Private memorial services for Gordon will be held at The Church of the Redeemer in Addison with Reverend Troy Preston officiating.

Gordon's photo was taken by his son-in-law, Alex Solla. Family and friends have established the Gordon Van Wormer Scholarship for Music Education benefiting students attending Mansfield University majoring in music education. Anyone wishing to support this scholarship may send a check to The Mansfield Foundation, P.O. Box 532, 71 South Main Street, Mansfield, PA 16933, or make a gift using the secure online giving page at www.mansfieldfoundation.org/donate.

Gordon's family entrusted his care to Haughey Funeral Home, Inc.

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Gordon Van Wormer – Eulogy
Written by Blaise Ferrandino
August 27, 2022

Gordon Van Wormer loved his family deeply. I love you as well and feel privileged to be here as we celebrate a very special person who lived a very special life. He was as good a friend as one might hope to have, and he was someone who expected much from, and got a lot out of, his time on this earth. He was an accomplished composer, arranger, percussionist, conductor, textbook author, and visual artist. I left one thing out – but we’ll get to that in a moment.

We all fear the pain and anxiety that often comes at the end of life. My mother used to say that a certain amount of hell is visited upon many of us at the end just to give us an idea of where we don’t want to go. You might have been right mom, but I also think that, in this case, we were treated to a glimpse of heaven made manifest through Sandy’s steadfast love and care for Gordon. You, dear woman, are an angel.

Gordon had been pestering me about writing this Eulogy for more than three years. I’d usually responded with a quip about needing another twenty years or so, or telling him that I didn’t want to speak ill of the living. He’d chuckle, but stay on me. The tone was interesting, but somehow strange to my ear. There was something in it that I couldn’t quite place.

He was and will remain one of the most important people in my life. He has spoken to me with the voice of a friend, a next-door neighbor, a brother, an uncle, a bandmate (we once formed a short-lived trio called “Inner Rot”. We didn’t make much music, but we took a great photo for the album-cover). At times he was a father to me. We had talked as fellow musicians, fellow educators, and, he had spoken to me as my mentor. He was, and will remain, many, many things to me… but I eventually came to realize that the tone he was taking, when insisting upon my attention to this Eulogy, was a tone which he hadn’t directed toward me in decades. It was his teacher voice. I was unsure at first, but the last time we spoke, I became certain of it. He was using the most powerful of all his voices.

Lest you think this will be one of those sad stories where the person never tells the other person how much they meant to them, rest assured, I told him. But such moments are invariably awkward. Guys who make music, cuss, and, most especially, fish together, just don’t go there. Even when they do, the speaker feels a bit tongue-tied and the honoree feels bound by the dictates of humility to give a hearty – psshaw, or, more likely, something associated with bulls and fertilizer! Still, it did happen – thank God.

For me – apart from those elements associated with our religious beliefs, our immortality rests in our children and their children, as well as in the impact we have had upon others. God willing – most of this is positive. So Gordon, now that we’re not looking at each other – cussing, fishing, or cracking wise – please indulge me. I intend to give you the full treatment and make the case for your immortality. A case to which those here, and beyond, will bear witness.

OK – one more wise-crack: Gordon would say, and probably is saying; “Great, I die, and they send Ferrandino to make the case for my eternal soul. There must be better intercessors available! To which I would respond: Don’t worry, I’m going to focus upon your immortality in only one category; one to which you dedicated countless hours and the deepest parts of your soul. You, my friend, will live forever as a teacher. Your immortality rests with your students, their students, and those down the line.

At risk of sounding like an old-timer (At age 64, it is not really a risk) there was something very special about the Corning-Painted Post School District back in the day. When was that day? You decide. For me it was the late sixties through the seventies. I am blessed. I have been taught by an inordinate number of fabulous teachers. Many of you here can say the same. I am biased of course, but I believe teaching to be one of the most important of vocations. Good teachers and good education are needed now, more than ever.

After I left the Corning-Painted Post area, I embarked upon a career as a professional student. My good fortune continued. At each stop, I encountered and was privileged to work with many fabulous teachers. I can’t thank them enough, each and every one. Of all these master teachers, three stand out. Most of you do not know two of these people, but the third is the guest of honor here today.

The word I use to describe these gifted teachers is “sublime”. It is a word that, having learned of its deeper connotations, holds a great deal of meaning for me. I use it rarely – especially in writing. Sub – or under – the lima or line. Under the line – which line? In religious and philosophical thought of scholasticism, it is the line between heaven and earth. That place that is neither, but cognizant of both. The place from which we mortals might get a look at the ideal. Sublime teaching takes us to that place. It gives us a glimpse of just how wonderful ideas are. Sublime teaching stands on facts, information, knowledge, and reasoning, but it is not bound by these things. It is empowered by them. There is a life of the mind that is wondrous; where we become able to ponder the meaning of things in a way far beyond the limitations of everyday mortal existence. It is there that we can know God, Buddha, Mohammed, the Great Spirit, Vishnu, Yahweh, or any other name we might, or might not, choose to put on the deepest level of enlightenment.

Gordon was a sublime teacher, not because he was a saint, or anymore privy to truth than anyone else, but because he had the gifts, persistence, and grit of a wilderness guide. He knew how to get places and, more importantly, how to get people to come along. The precise meaning of education is to lead in the same sense as a guide might lead an expedition. Gordon was every bit the guide. He took us all on repeated trips to places he had been, and made us enthusiastic about pulling our own weight. As with any great guide, even though he knew the way, he allowed us the thrill and edification of discovery as if this were the first time the things encountered had ever been seen, felt, and – especially – sung or heard. We watched and listened to his lead and then found our own path, ever-aware of his being at our side should we falter.

I can’t tell you how many times I “discovered” something which, I know now, he had seen countless times before. (There is an interesting anecdote related to one of these discoveries that led to the creation of an arrangement for the second Pop Machine). But proving that he had been there first was not the point. He knew that he wasn’t getting paid to show his students how smart he was but, rather, to cultivate their ability to learn the ways and joys of discovery – of truth. To paraphrase Maria Montessori, the primary task of the teacher is to render themselves obsolete. This sounds harsh, but the point is that the true teacher, the sublime teacher, looks to enable others to become their own guides and, eventually, to guide others. This was Gordon. He paid it forward.

The sublime teacher learns as much as they impart. Gordon was always learning and growing as a musician and teacher. He enjoyed the process and the product equally and reveled in past accomplishments as much as he looked forward to future challenges. He would listen to concert recordings dozens of times, taking immense pleasure in triumphs and seeing less stellar moments as opportunities for future growth. I spent many an hour with him while he was doing these kind of reviews. As usual, I learned.

Another quality of the sublime teacher is an almost Pentecostal ability to be heard by many different types of people from many different places and stations in life and to be understood – to have an impact. Over the years, while telling stories about Gordon, whom my own father affectionately dubbed “Beardo”, I have been amazed how we, who knew him, remember and highlight different things. While one might remember a joke that put them at ease, another might remember a kind word of encouragement or an inquiry about their well-being, another might remember a gripe about an ill-prepared facility or commiseration over the “state of things”, others might remember being challenged musically or intellectually. One might relate an anecdote which I had totally forgotten while the things I remember most vividly are gone from, or buried far deeper in, the memories of others.

It is not my intent to cast Gordon as having had multiple personalities. What I am trying to relate is that he was possessed of the ability to meet each person where they “lived” and relate to them as might best engender understanding. He was a dogged teacher and looked to get the most out of everyone – not for his own sake, but for that of the music (remember the sublime) and that of the individual. He was a consummate pro, rarely cross or even on edge as a teacher, but he did always remain intent upon helping each student.

Gordon had a unique respect for the individual and loved people. It was hard to tell sometimes because he liked to, and, may I say, was quite adept at, bitching and moaning. He would gripe mightily about bad situations, insensitive public policy, injustice, the intransigence brought on by ignorance, and groups he felt were oppressing others, but, when it came to people – especially those in his charge (his students) – he held their individuality sacred and truly celebrated what each brought to the ensemble or classroom.

We are, each of us, a composite of many characters: the whiner, the mystic, the dreamer, the communicator, the clown, the statesman, the child, the lunch-pail worker, the artist, the spouse, the parent, and so on. Gordon was all of these things, but where he stood out was in his ability to use the richness of his personality and experience to engage with others. Once that connection exists so does trust. Now, teaching and learning can happen and I’m here to tell you – it did!

I would not be the teacher or musician I am today without Gordon – not even close. He gave me a level of literacy that enabled me to see and hear things at a deeper level as I moved through my career. Because of him, I was able to wonder “why” intelligently. Because of him, I was able to see certain things in color instead of in black and white; in 3D, instead of in only two dimensions.

One of the gifts of age, if we choose to see it this way, is being able to see all the things you messed up and to try to learn from them. One more piece of evidence for Gordon as a sublime teacher is that his lessons are continuing to teach. Things musical, and otherwise, I was not equipped to understand when I was younger, continue to come alive and to teach me. May these lessons continue to enrich all of us. Truth is eternal – and our guide gave us tools, so that we might at least try to find it. We love you Gordon and we thank God for your life. What you gave to us will be passed on – we promise.