In Memoriam

Harry J. Brabec
1928-2005
by Gordon B. Peters

The passing of my first percussion teacher, a person largely responsible for my musical life, brings back many memories. “I wanna be like Harry,” I told my parents. I first heard about Harry from our Cicero elementary school orchestra director. Harry was four years ahead of me in school, so our academic careers never overlapped. I soon learned that he lived just down the street, and I’d see him walk to school or work. My mother contacted him about drum lessons. First came the rudiments and then the drum books and timpani. Before long he said: “Okay, Gordon, it’s time for you to get a xylophone.” So, Harry and I drove out to Crystal Lake to look at a 3 1/2-octave Deagan xylophone for sale by Bohumir Vesley, retired Chicago Symphony Orchestra Principal Percussionist. (Little did either of us know that both of us would end up in that same position.)

Harry’s reputation as a drummer in high school was legend. He set high precedents for me. He was the ideal role model. He suggested what teacher to go to and when: Roy Knapp, Otto Kristufek, Jose Bethancourt, Clair Omar Musser. He studied with them, and, of course, I followed his path and advice. By introducing me to Frank’s Drum Shop, which was like “Percussion Central,” and to the percussion instrument companies (Deagan, Ludwig, Slingerland), he helped connect me to “the profession.”

After high school Harry played in the Chicago Symphony’s training orchestra, the Civic Orchestra, and then moved on to the Grant Park Symphony, the National Symphony in Washington, and finally the CSO, first as Principal Percussionist and later as Stage Manager/Librarian. He taught privately at Northwestern University and North Park College. Along the way his versatility led him “behind the drums” with Woody Herman, Wayne King, Chuck Foster, the Chicago NBC Orchestra, the Melody Top Theater and Schubert Theater Orchestras, and even a stint with the Florida Disneyland Marching Band (he loved circuses). Ultimately, he set the drums aside, and, with Barbara, his wife of 43 years, delved into the arts-and-crafts business.

Barb tells of his having an engraver write this saying on the bottom of an antique brass spitoon: “Old saloon drummers never die, they just take their drums and beat it.” Barbara used to chide him that she would one day use that spitoon for his ashes.

It is interesting that in the Czechoslovakian language, the name Brabec means “sparrow.” Well, this tall, energetic guy who poured his heart out teaching and helping me was no little bird.

As one who partook in a slice of Harry’s life of generosity, caring, patience, dedication and mentoring, I wonder where my life’s trail would have led me without him. I am most indebted and grateful for his faith and friendship. I owe him, as do many others.