In Memoriam: Remembering Ernest Kahlke

It was 20 years ago today, on April 24, 1996, that my dad, Ernest Kahlke, passed away. Like my mom, who would go on and live nearly another 14 years without him, he too was the greatest supporter of my musical career from the very start.

My dad worked for Volkswagen as a Field Manager, so he was always on the road. When I was growing up, he was not home during the week because he was either driving to all the dealerships in his region, or flying wherever for conventions or ongoing training in the latest repair techniques on the newest VW, Porsche, and Audi products.

Because I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with dad during the week, the weekends were special. I was always with him whenever he did chores around the house. We also spent lots of time as a family doing family type activities as well.

As I was poured through all the boxes of photos last night trying to find a nice pic of him, I literally found hundreds of photos in which my dad, mom, and I were either at places like the zoo, or travelling throughout Germany and Canada. Yup, we travelled and moved A LOT.

Being a VW brat was similar to being an army brat: I tended not to go to school for more than a year in one place, and didn’t have a chance to make friends that lasted.

That changed when my dad retired from VW, and took a job with a dealership. We ended up moving to BC, and that’s where I got to stay in school for the long-haul, and where I first decided that I really wanted to play saxophone.

I really was daddy’s little girl, and he always made sure that I got what I wanted. When I was 12 or so, I really wanted to learn how to play saxophone, so in grade 7 my parents rented me a brand new, Conn Director Series alto saxophone, and I started in beginner band.

I only kept that horn for a year, because I decided that I wanted to switch to tenor. My dad was the one that made it happen, and my parents rented me a Bundy tenor for the next school year.

When it became clear that I wasn’t going to give up the saxophone, it was dad who found my first tenor in the Vancouver Sun’s classified section: the Orsi-made La Monte tenor that now adorns the foyer wall today. I played that tenor until my last year in high school.

Since dad no longer was on the road during the week, I can count on one hand the number of concerts of mine he missed during my elementary and high school days.

Ernest Kahlke the photographer

Another thing dad and I shared, was our love for photography. As a matter of fact, I happened across quite a few pics of me as a little kid with my dad’s camera around my neck, pretending to take a picture.

Because dad was the photographer in the family, it was hard to find of photo of him, although there are literally thousands of my mother.

Dad was an excellent photographer, and also regularly did the training pics for VW. His favourite possession would have to have been his Leica M series camera that he replaced regularly as new models came out. I still have his last M3 along with all the accessories. I haven’t tried to use it, because I’m afraid that I would not do it justice.

Among the thousands of images dad took, I stumbled across this artistic one. I had never seen it before last night, but it is the kind of shot I try to do on occasion. My partner said it’s obvious where I get my artistic eye from. I don’t know about that, but I certainly got the photography bug from him.

As I write this, I can’t help but remember what 20 years ago today was like. The police; the paramedic crew; the coroner; my lovely borzoi Serenade—who actually warned us the night before that something was wrong with dad—my partner; and of course my mom. The actions of everyone seem to be indelibly etched into my mind.

Vati, I miss you, and love you. You suffered a lot the last 10 years of your life, but never lost the core essence of who you were: a committed provider for our family, who never gave up. That last bit is also something I inherited from you. Thank you for those genes as well… Ich glaube ich bin so stur wie du warst, und manchmal ist dass gut so!