Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, February 5, 1992 TAG: 9202050396
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By BILLIE B. ROBINETTE
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
MOOZEK MAN
I FIRST met Charlie Currin at a PTA meeting about 10 years ago. I'd heard of him from our fifth-grade son, Chris. Charlie's music class served as a happy enterprise where the charismatic leader taught children music - and more.Charlie was irrepressible. The rear tag on his car said "MOOZEK," declaring Charlie's two loves: cows and music. He got up early to milk cows; he taught at more than one county school; he served as church organist. Charlie served as father figure, role model, music teacher and friend. A minister friend has said that Charlie said "hello" to you with his whole body.
In the scheme of things, I think a person's spirit vibrates in the physical world, and that Charlie's vibrated at a higher level and speed. And I'd say that the source of the vibration is love. Charlie passed it out evenhandedly wherever he went.
I don't want to sanctify Charlie. But he pursued perfection. When a child made a mistake on the piano or singing, Charlie elbowed the malefactor. This pursuit of excellence served his students well. They worked to please Charlie. He caught their fancy; they caught his fire.
In December of Chris' senior year, Charlie missed several days at school. We thought it was his overbusy Christmas schedule.
But the following year, our son Andrew came home and said, "Bad news, Mom." Charlie had tested HIV positive. He had resigned.
I phoned a close friend of his and asked if it were true. I got to see how Charlie's friends closed rank around him. She waited to hear how I judged Charlie's virus before she said, "I think you can guess the answer."
Later, Charlie talked about finding out he had tested positive and about driving around for hours, letting it sink in. He talked about guilt and forgiveness. He expressed gratitude that people had supported him.
In November, Charlie fell off the feeder in the barn while reaching for a bale of hay to feed a new calf. It was a mortal blow to the head but he hung on, brain damaged, in intensive care. He had avoided the worst part of the painful ending of AIDS. But when Charlie's brain received that blow, an amazing store of beautiful music left us.
On Dec. 23, Charlie's 34th birthday, Andrew and other former students of Charlie's sang Christmas carols at the Currin home. Charlie's mother asked if they would record for Charlie. They planned to do it. But the call came the day after Christmas: Charlie died.
I will miss him. Charlie was like a shooting star: bright, brilliant, brief. His kind of love is a marker, and a reminder of how we can be.
Billie B. Robinette is a free-lance writer who lives in Hillsville.