“No one can do what Ron does on cello,” Tom Kehoe told me. But let me back up in time.
Tom and his wife, Mira, are marvelous jazz musicians who came to our small community church in the Midway of St. Paul seven years ago. I told them at the time, “We can’t afford you.” They said, “You will be surprised. And we have friends. Some of the best musicians in town.”
Ron Evaniuk (courtesy of John Marboe)
“We believe in community,” they told me, “and we want to support the grace that a genuine community can provide. Music is a spiritual gift.”
I was stunned. I had just heard their band, Xibaba, play at a venue in downtown St. Paul. I did not believe they would be interested in playing at a small church that could offer them only $100 per week. They were interested. They said, “You get two for one. Both of us.” We started as an experiment, and the creative community collaboration has not stopped.
Ah, and their amazing musical friends. Many have graced our sanctuary over the years, but none who became more dear to me — to us — than Ron Evaniuk.
Ron was a great musician who was handed a cello at his grade school in Pittsburgh (he wanted to play trombone) by his teacher, a member of the Pittsburgh Philharmonic who taught public-school orchestra to make ends meet. Ron remembered needing to carry the cello home with his sister’s help in fifth grade. Later his family moved to Allen Park, Michigan. He kept up the cello and played with the Detroit Junior Symphony. Later he studied at the Cleveland Institute of Music, where Yo-Yo Ma also studied.
Ron went places. He was the cellist in Harry Chapin’s band. He toured and made several studio recordings. He played with Eric Kamau Gravatt and Source Code. He played with Paul Metsa, and with the Peter Vircks Quartet. He played at major theater venues in Minneapolis/St. Paul. He played upright bass and electric bass, as well as cello.
Ron Evaniuk (courtesy of John Marboe)
When I met Ron through Tom and Mira, he was working for an hourly wage at a model-train store. His gigs had mostly dried up. His concert cello had been stolen. He was facing serious health issues.
We invited him to play at the church. We found a student cello for him to play. That Sunday, a friend of mine was visiting who plays cello professionally. She was amazed at what she heard when she learned Ron was playing such a modest instrument, and that he had not played in years. The community later rallied to buy a cello worthy of his gifts — and, of course, as a gift to ourselves.
The church community (Zion Lutheran) embraced Ron and loved his music. He was energized to play again. It was a joy to see and hear him flourish.
He was never far from a laugh and a joke. As I would walk to the front to begin a Sunday service, he would play the theme from the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson — da da da da da … Which inspired me to pretend swinging a golf club. We developed a rapport. Musical back and forth during the service, along with Tom at piano.
When I told him how grateful I was for him, his presence, and his gift, he replied, “I am grateful to be here, and to be part of this community.”
Ron Evaniuk (courtesy of John Marboe)
Last Saturday, I got a phone call from Tom. “Ron passed away,” he said. “We don’t know anything more.” I jumped in my car and met our musicians, Tom, Mira, Ray and Dennis, at Ron’s apartment. He had been found dead in his recliner, we were told. The police and medical examiner had come and taken his body. He had been dead for a day or two, or more. He lived alone, in an apartment with his hand-built model train city filling both rooms. He died alone.
But not entirely. In these last years, friends nurtured him back into playing, remembering, exploring his gift and genius for music. He gained and blessed a small community that appreciated and loved him.
In his apartment, I felt him present. I heard him laugh. I heard him play. Tom was right. No one can do what Ron could do — for us.
Rest well, dear friend.
The Rev. John Marboe of St. Paul is a pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. His e-mail address is johncharles2@gmail.com
The memorial service for Ron Evaniuk will be at Zion Lutheran Church 1697 Lafond Ave., St. Paul, on Saturday, March 23. Visitation at 10 a.m., service at 11, luncheon to follow. Storytelling in the service most welcome.
