USA: Retired attorney plays the trumpet, is an award-winning poet

. ST. GEORGE, Utah / The Spectrum / June 12, 2009 By Thaya Gilmore For St. George Neighborhoods A retired attorney, Gary Christian, from Holladay, now lives in Santa Clara. With those days in the courtroom behind him, he now sees himself more as a poet and a musician than as a lawyer. "I came from a musical family," Christian said. "My dad and my older brother were both fine musicians. My dad played the classical banjo, as well as jazz. One day, when I was about 10 years old, he told me it was time for me to start playing a musical instrument. So I taught myself how to play the trumpet." When he was 13 years old, Christian was invited by Nolan McMullin to plan in a dance band in Raymond, Alberta, Canada. "I was a pretty good music reader but was somewhat worried about playing in the band," he said. "I was a kid but soon learned that when you are playing in a band, you are just a satellite person and there is a distance between you and the listeners and dancers. You've on the stage or on the bandstand and the dancers are out there on the floor." In those days he was paid $5 for a three-hour dance job. He played every Saturday night in Raymond and every night during the summer. "Two of us drove around Southern Alberta for the dance jobs in an Old Model A carrying the instruments for the band," Christian said. Born in Portland, Ore., he lived there until he was 2 years old. Then the family moved to Raymond where he stayed until he was 17 years of age. He never graduated from high school because he entered the United States Army Air Corps. "I wanted to go into Cryptography, which is the deciphering of codes, but at the time I was inducted into the service they asked me if I played an instrument," he said. "I told them that I played the trumpet." After Basic Training at Lackland Field in San Antonio, Texas, he was assigned to Bolling Field in Washington, D.C. From there he was sent to Okinawa where he was stationed for two years. "When we got there the place was blown to pieces," Christian said. "Upon returning to the United States, I was stationed at Mitchell Field, New York, and played USO Shows, Troop Shows, parades, television performances and things such as that." He was in the 558th United States Army Air Corps Band, one of six trumpet players in the 40-piece band. "We played music every day. I liked music but it became a job," he said. "It was not a romantic lifestyle that many people think. I was up at 4:30 each morning for reveille, then band rehearsal, a noon performance, individual practice in the afternoon, retreat parade at 5 p.m. and night performances. It became very wearing on us." When he got out of the service, he returned to Canada and that year went on a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to California, most of his time being spent in Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo. Upon his return, even though he had never finished high school, he went to Brigham Young University and later to the University of Utah. "I took the college entrance exams and passed," he said. "Boy, was I happy about that. I always took that as a sign that the age of miracles was not over yet. Then when I found out that I was in the 97th percentile, I was even more convinced that miracles do occur." He graduated from BYU in political science with a minor in economics in 1956. During the summers from 1955 to 1959 he worked as a Customs Inspector at the US/Canadian Border on the US side at Piegan, Mont. After graduating from BYU he enrolled at the University of Utah College of Law from 1956 to 1959 graduating with the degree of Juris Doctor. Christian practiced law for 40 years in Salt Lake City first as an attorney in the law firm of Kipp & Charlier. After five years, the firm made him a partner. The firm was reorganized under the name of Kipp & Christian which is still in existence today. "The firm was engaged in the general practice of law, including such things as personal injury defense, medical malpractice defense, insurance coverage questions, commercial law and real estate. I didn't handle any criminal law matters but I tried a lot of civil cases and did a lot of appellate work, arguing cases in the Supreme Court," he said. He retired in 1996. He and his wife Pat, of 41 years, then moved from Holladay to St. George. "We were tired of the snow," he said. Creating poetry Christian is of Icelandic heritage. His grandfather Jon Kristinn Arnoddsson, came to America from Arnarholl, Iceland, in 1887. At the time of his admission into the United States his name was changed to John A. Christian. In 2004, Gary went to Iceland and visited relatives there. He went out to the old farm at Arnarholl to where his grandfather was born. The old house was still there and being lived in. The farm was still under cultivation by the owners. "Iceland was so clean and neat," Christian said. "There was no graffiti on any walls or buildings. There was not paper or pop cans on the streets or in the lanes. There were no dilapidated buildings, no trash along the streets. Outside Reykjavik on the farms, there were no old vehicles or farm equipment rusting and that was not in operating condition. There were no buildings falling down and in disrepair." Christian said his teachers in the third, fourth and fifth grades in Raymond Public School where he had attended encouraged the children to read and memorize poems. "We don't seem to have poetry like we used to," he said. "It seems to have been minimized in our culture but it is making a comeback. There are many good, talented, dedicated teachers in the schools who are doing wonders with their students. We owe them our gratitude." Christian has been the President of Redrock Writers' Guild for the past eight years. He has had poetry books published and has won awards in writing contests. His poem "The Black Hand" about Wild Bill Hickok won First Place in the South Dakota State Poetry Society's annual poetry competition last year. He had winning entries in 2002, 2003 and 2004 in the Scottish International Open Poetry Competition. He also had winning poems and recognition from the Icelandic National League of North America and the Manitoba Icelandic Society. His poem "Halgerthur of Blaufell" was published in the Lodberg-Heimskringla, an Icelandic newspaper published in English in Manitoba, Canada. In addition he has had winning entries in the Mississippi Poetry Society, Missouri Poetry Society, Heritage Writers Guild in St. George and the Utah State Poetry Society. His desire to write does not stop with poetry. He has written life histories of his maternal grandparents, entitled "A Few More Miles," paternal grandparents, entitled "The Winds of Valhalla," and about his mother, entitled "Just Maida." Each book is 350 pages, and is a hard bound book with photos. Currently he's trying his hand at writing children's poetry which rhymes and is lighter verse, but he mostly writes serious free verse. Christian has three children, one in Salt Lake City, another in Simi Valley, Calif., and one who lives in Walnut Creek, Calif.. He has three grandchildren. E-mail: viking@redrock.net [rc] A Selection Of Gary Christian's Poems Gary Christian wrote a poem in January 2009, about his good friend, Jerry Petrak, who he used to play hockey with in Canada. Jerry was killed in Holland in 1945. Jerry Petrak Speaks On standing at the cenotaph in Temple Hill Cemetery, Raymond, Alberta, Canada, and seeing Jerry Petrak's name. I will come back in autumn when birds are gathering in the fields and harvesters reap hardy grains that spill upon the ground like men who fall in war and stay forever in the deep, black soil. None shall call their names nor hear their voices out of the numbness of the past where the living cannot go. There is only darkness there and quiet. They watch with tearless eyes that only see their yesterdays, hearts unstrung, depleted with the ache of longing. But I shall come. I shall come and watch forever from the wall where those who wept and waited come to look in silence on names carved in unflinching stone. The Janitor's Path I walked his pathway through the grass and heard the magpies mock and sass from fence posts tethered in the lane, each morning when I had to pass. The path is gone where flowers grew, a way known only to a few, and so I walked along the road with others who went that way, too. The old Academy is gone, supplanted by a house and lawn, yet, academe still sounds its claim that tutoring is going on. But time and toll will have their way. They crumble with each passing day to settle in the minds of men who leave their message in the clay. Written January 18, 2008. Copyright ©2009 The Spectrum