I was an announcer and producer of classical-music programming at Iowa State's WOI Radio for 32 years. My boss, Doug Brown--a great admirer of Dr. Larsen and his work--suggested I put together a preview of that year's DMMO season. I had never met Dr. Larsen, and I was a little hesitant to make the call, but I finally did it. Dr. Larsen jumped at the chance, and we did about an hour and a half in one long take--conversation and music, Dr. Larsen at the piano, and a colleague of mine, with just silent cues and glances from me, adding excerpts from recordings I had chosen. It was magical. He and I were friends immediately. His immense talent and his boundless love for the voices and the music shone through every word he said--every breath he took. We did these shows for at least ten years more. It was one of the greatest joys and most cherished memories of my tenure at WOI Radio. I asked Dr. Larsen--no tape running at the time--how he could audition 600 singers a year and remember them all when it came time for casting. "I write in my notebook", he said. "NOBODY sees my notebook!". One year, he asked me to be his guest at the Simpson Madrigal Dinner. What a delightful experience! Heavenly music-making and food to match! I once told him that his calling--and it really was a calling--at DMMO reminded me of Robert Donat as Mr. Chips. The beloved teacher is on his deathbed, and he hears somebody murmur, "What a pity he never had children!". And Mr. Chips, with his last breath, replies "Oh, but I did! Hundreds of them! And all boys." Dr. Larsen's version would have gone "Oh, but I DID have children! And all of them singers." I loved him then. I love him still. And I always will.