A Tribute to Anne-Marie Katemopoulos & Leanne Weatherly-Rzepiela

Our friendship was forged through the fire of building a program together at Lincoln High School in San Jose and tested during that first year of our partnership when we shared a choir. There were too many times that I stepped on her toes as we figured things out. But over our 13 years teaching together, the trust and fondness between us grew and thrived, even as our relationship shifted when my daughters became her students.

We shared some tears, but many more laughs, perhaps none greater than the April Fool’s Day jokes we would play on our students on our departmental tours. Each time, we devised plausible stories and delivered them to our students gathered at Disneyland. My most favorite involved the bus drivers. At midnight, after a full day at the park, we told the kids that one of our students had trashed their room and tossed the TV in the dumpster, so the hotel revoked our reservation and we had to drive home that night. The bus drivers sold it, the students bought it, and most of them loved watching us laugh with them when we yelled, “April Fools!” through the beautiful performing arts auditorium that now bears her name. But it would have made my heart gladder to have seen them both live to a ripe, old age.

Anne-Marie and I kept in touch, but I hadn’t seen her since October, when she brought her choir to the festival at my college. Naturally, I regret not keeping that connection real, particularly during the holiday season. So, I have taken a lesson from the passing of both Leanne and Anne-Marie: I have been meeting up with former colleagues and former students I haven’t seen in years for brunches, lunches, and happy hours.

It has been wonderful. I was able over lunch to tell my favorite principal who is now 84 years young exactly why I loved working with her. It has been cathartic and heartwarming reconnecting with people, and I’m not done. Hopefully, I will keep this practice for years to come.

Far too many people in our lives leave without knowing the imprint they have made upon us. It’s true not just for students, but for teachers as well. I saw some of my “kids” every day for up to seven years (having taught at my feeder).

The April Fool’s jokes were Anne-Marie’s idea from the start, though sometimes the directive from her was, “You have to sell this…don’t even look at me or I will lose it!”

Anne-Marie had countless friends from the jazz world, ACDA, CMEA, Rod Eichenberger’s Cannon Beach workshop and much more. Yet during the school year, she gave herself completely to her students without reservation. Quite fortunately, decades of her students understood this and loved her for it. Her love for them was reciprocated many times over. They came out of the woodwork to honor her at a candlelight vigil just days after her passing, and her memorial was almost entirely planned by a team of former students.

It makes my heart glad knowing that neither AnneMarie nor Leanne will be forgotten; that their legacy will live on through their students, and for Leanne

Some were almost as close to me as my own children, so it is a bit of a jolt to see the 18 year-old in my mind’s eye now in their 30’s, 40’s and 50’s face-toface. But it has been wonderful picking up where we left off.

I will miss my friend Anne-Marie whom I could text or call to ask, “Hey, what was the name of that kid we had who….” She always knew. Fortunately, she also knew how much we all cherished her spirit. With the outpouring of love that Leanne received during her battle, I am sure that she knew as well.

Why have I shared this? Because we tend to become immersed in our art, dealing with the urgent and deferring the important. Tomorrow is promised to no one. So, keep the connections real with those you cherish, not just virtual.

AUTHORED BY LOU DE LA ROSA