By Sarah Robinson
Special to the Florida State Times
Never let it be said that Lucilla Gumm Housewright is easily daunted. She has died twice and been resuscitated, survived a fire on an ocean liner, dealt with Japanese exorcists, traveled around the world four times, slogged through rice paddies in high heels and chosen a husband she's still happy with after 55 years.
So it's no surprise that when she decided FSU -- and Tallahassee -- should have a performing-arts center, she did something to get it started.
Last December she gave $2 million of her own money, which was matched by $2 million from the state, to launch the campaign to build a $20-million concert hall on the FSU campus.
After years of efforts by city commissioners, arts lovers and educators to locate the center in one place or another, Housewright has settled the argument: It will be built, and it will be located at FSU. It is planned for the proposed "Corner on the Arts," a collection of campus fine-arts classroom buildings, museums and stages.
"All those nights when I couldn't sleep, I would lie in bed and think about this," said Housewright, the wife of Wiley Housewright, dean emeritus of the music school. "When the voters voted it down by just a few votes, I knew it would be up to private interests. We just thought it was time."
When the Housewrights think it's time, things tend to happen.
In 1985, they thought it was time for an eminent scholar chair. The Lucilla and Wiley Housewright Eminent Scholar Chair in Music has brought many of the most accomplished musicians of our time to the FSU campus: Robert Shaw, conductor emeritus of the Atlanta Symphony; jazz composer Gunther Schuller; and many others.
Over the years the Housewrights have also provided numerous scholarships for promising music students who could not afford to study at the university. Two FSU graduate students are attending the School of Music by way of the Housewright's generosity, and neither knows who their benefactor is.
The Housewrights moved to Tallahassee from Austin, Texas, in 1947 so that Dr. Housewright could head the new FSU graduate program in music. He taught for 19 years and became dean of the School of Music in 1966, a post he occupied until retiring in 1979.
Dean Housewright has been a Fulbright Scholar in Kobe, Japan, and a Lawton Distinguished Professor at FSU. He advised the Ford Foundation and the Carnegie Foundation. He went to South America for the U.S. Department of State. And he was named to the Music Educator's National Conference Hall of Fame, an honor held by less than half-a-dozen living recipients.
While the dean was accumulating honors and titles, his wife was not idle, although she downplays her activities: "I haven't done anything except play a little bridge."
In fact, she has been a lifetime patron of the arts, world traveler, philanthropist and tireless supporter of her husband's work.
Lucilla Gumm grew up in Fort Worth, Texas.
"My grandfather, William Jesse Boaz, returned to Fort Worth after the Civil War with some money in his saddlebag," she said. "He was able to buy some land between Fort Worth and Dallas for $3 an acre, and that is where the money came from that has allowed me to do what I wanted in life."
What she wanted to do was travel, support the arts, and make the world a better place. It sounds idyllic, but there are times when it hasn't been.
On Friday, June 13, 1969, she had two heart attacks and technically died. Luckily she was in the intensive care unit of Tallahassee Memorial hospital when it happened and was revived. In addition to the pain, she recalls "nurses, wires, tongue depressors and a doctor using paddles."
"To this day I have the longevity record at Tallahassee Memorial Regional hospital for survivors of resuscitation," she said. "Maybe I was spared so that I could eventually give my favorite city and favorite university a long-needed performing-arts center."
Before she left the hospital, she taught the nurses how to play bridge.
Other adventures have been less life-threatening.
A fire on the Queen Elizabeth II off the coast of England once left the Housewrights stranded at sea for a day, but the ship continued to operate in grand style -- sumptuous meals, open bars, bustling casino.
On another cruise, she tripped in the hall carrying a laundry basket and ruptured a tendon in her foot. To this day she uses a cane and walks only with pain.
"I ought to be in a wheelchair," she said, "but I really prefer to get around on my own."
In 1956 and `57, the Housewrights were invited to concerts at the emperor's palace in Japan. They went by train, crossing several rice paddies on foot to get to the station. "This was rather hard on my (high) heels," she said.
Another time in Japan Mrs. Housewright answered a knock at the door to find a man in a bizarre outfit wearing heavy make-up with his long hair sticking straight up. He wanted to come in and "sweep the house of evil spirits." She let him in after ascertaining from the maid that it was an annual ritual.
The Housewrights, both 81, go about their lives as smoothly as a couple waltzing. They treat each other with an affectionate, almost formal courtesy. Both play musical instruments, read avidly and swim every day.
Music brought them together for the first time in 1939. They were both teaching school in Fort Worth and happened to attend the same gathering of music educators.
"I sat behind him and noticed his beautiful baritone voice," Lucilla said. "I noticed how handsome he was too." She soon invited him to attend a dance given by the Daughters of the American Revolution. The dance has lasted almost 60 years.
Now she wants to build a concert hall, "so magnificent that travelers from Europe and Japan would come just to admire and enjoy it.
"I dreamed of white marble and a setting as lovely as the Pitti Palace in Florence and even the gorgeous windows of Ste. Chappelle in Paris."