Remembering John Neumann: My Mentor and Friend
Written by Trent Russell, Director of Instrumental Music at AAA
I remember my interview. I remember feeling like there was no better place for me. I remember feeling wholly unqualified and like I blew the audition. I remember the phone call from a soft, confident voice inviting me to interview again. I remember that same man calling to welcome me to the Auburn family, and meeting my wife and me to unload our belongings into the small duplex at the end of faculty row. That same man walked me through my very first year of teaching while he completed his last. I had a lot to learn and John Neumann was the perfect mentor.
I felt blessed to teach at Auburn Adventist Academy my first year and my feelings toward the school in the shadow of Mt. Rainier have only blossomed in the last twelve years. I owe a lot to this school. Auburn has helped me learn new skills, continue my education, and pushed me to be a better leader. But I’m not sure I would have made it without John’s gentle, dependable guidance. He was there to lead me through a lot of firsts; my first class, first concert, first time on a boarding school campus, and the first of my many mistakes. Outside the classroom, he helped me grow as a man, husband, father, and disciple of Christ.
There wasn’t a student that John couldn’t teach. Working with kids was not a job for him, it was a privilege and an art. Outside of being a father, teaching was John’s highest calling. He had a way of making kids feel special and loved. The care he displayed for students helped shape my teaching philosophy. One day, he pulled out his massive collection of school keys from his pocket to share his favorite analogy. He told me that kids are like doors with unique, individual locks. While a master key opened many doors, some keys on his ring were only for one door. He worked tirelessly to find the right strategies for each student because none were more important than another. But there was always a key.
John would often come to sit in my office just to chat. We talked about the job, sure, but the conversation was always deeper than classroom management and programming. He used to apologize for talking my ear off, but I always enjoyed his stories, perspective, and counsel. I would often seek him out for his invaluable advice in teaching and life and that advice always pointed to Jesus. John found the perfect balance between offering guidance and letting me figure things out on my own. He never once overstepped and was always there when I needed him. Some of the best things John taught me were about being a better father and making sure I made time for my family. He was always Grandpa John to my kids. He mourned with me when my oldest son died and continued to check in to make sure I was doing okay.
After retirement, John continued in his mentorship role. Not only did he continue to mentor me, but he would travel to the schools of other young music teachers to help out, never expecting more than a hot meal and a place to stay. When he moved to Walla Walla, he would make sure to find a time to visit with me every time I came out for a music festival, tournament, or a college visit. He taught music at Sunset Lake Camp and drove to Auburn for big concerts, graduations, and alumni weekends. I saw him often and he always met me with a smile.
At the end of my first year, John was retiring and we wanted to do something special for him. Sylvan’s signature song, under John’s direction, was Mary McDonald’s Make Me an Instrument of Thy Peace. They sang it at every concert, graduation, and special event as a reminder that we all should work towards the goal of spreading God’s love. But John had never performed the piece with a full orchestra. Combining the Wind Ensemble and Orchestra, I worked with Diana Heinrichs, the orchestra director at the time, and we prepared the accompaniment without John’s knowledge. We even had Sylvan come into our rehearsal on John’s day off. On the night of the Spring Concert, John, as was his custom, invited former Sylvan members to sing. Just before he raised his hands to start the piece, we opened the blue curtain to reveal the orchestra. John, along with many members of Sylvan, alumni, and the audience, was moved to tears throughout the entire performance. It was a truly special moment for a truly special man.
The tradition of singing Make Me an Instrument has continued for more than a decade after John’s departure from Auburn. John spent more than half of his teaching career at AAA and we sought to honor that time once more when we invited him to conduct his signature song one more time at Alumni Weekend a year ago. I was honored to play horn in that ensemble but had no idea it would be the last time I would share in music with him.
John called me shortly after his diagnosis. It was the same gentle, confident voice that told me I had a job at Auburn. He assured me he was strong in faith, he said that he was looking forward to seeing me and my son when Jesus calls us home, and he called me his friend. I could never repay John for what he did for me. I could never say “thank you” enough. But I can remember him through service. I can remember him in the way I teach, the way I love, and the way I allow God to use me as His instrument.
John directing Make Me an Instrument of Thy Peace during the 2019 100-year Alumni Weekend Celebration.