As posted to cymbalholics.com November 2010:
Dear Cymbalholics,
As the daughter of Mike Skiba, I would like to reach out to you in my family’s time of loss. My father leaves behind myself and my mother Dale Ann, along with his four-legged children. My father was, as you all know, a dedicated cymbalsmith, musician, and provider. His passing is a shock to us all and there really are no words to properly describe his immense heart and soul. I had the BEST Daddy that any girl could ever ask for and I will miss him dearly every day for the rest of my life.
I do not know exactly what to write as I am at a loss for words. I have pondered deeply since his passing about what I should say in his memory. Each time I think about what words are adequate, I come up blank. My dad raised me to never do anything half-asked but to always be honest. In all honesty, these words are the best that I can find and I feel confident that he would be happy with me for this.
I do not feel the need to discuss my father’s biography. I am sure that you all know his past and life’s history from a musical background and craftsman’s point of view. I cannot express how highly I thought of my father and his talent in the art of creating hand hammered custom cymbals and custom maple drums. He truly had a one-of-a-kind highly trained ear that I know has produced and crafted some of the most beautiful sounds in existence. I hope that as his fellow musicians you continue to play his instruments in his honor as that would be his wish. Let the sound of his music and of his soul ring out in each stroke of your drumsticks as you play his cymbals. His heart and love will be heard for many decades to come because he shared his talent and knowledge with us all.
My father’s greatest edict was also my grandfather’s greatest edict. “Craftsmanship is priceless.” This has recently, before his passing, also become my greatest belief. I remember years ago, my dad and I were in his workshop downstairs in the basement. We were building a double-level birdhouse out of pine and I was watching him intently as he marked the wood where it needed to be cut. He lightly drew the lines with a pencil and I saw the intense concentration in his eyes as he was crafting a home for another species. He checked the dimensions of the wood with a ruler and then checked them again. I, of course, as an impatient child who was maybe 10 years old, asked him, “Dad, why did you just measure that twice?” He said to me, “Kayla, my father taught me when I was your age that in life sometimes you only have one chance at things. So now when it comes to things like these, when we are dedicating ourselves to something great, we must always measure twice and cut once.” I remember standing there wondering what exactly he meant by that. For years I took the “measure twice and cut once” rule literally. I figured he was referring to cutting wood or cutting moulding or carpet. I never realized how important this rule is in being a craftsman.
It is now that I realize how deep and far that rule goes in many of life’s aspects. It doesn’t just have to be a particular material that you are measuring and cutting. It can be a decision on some important topic that you must weigh and measure twice before “cutting” out a final choice. If my dad would like us all to do one thing in his honor, it would be to measure twice and cut once.
My dad also had a way with words. I have never heard someone speak or write so eloquently and articulately as he did. His thoughts were clear, coherent, and intelligible. I learned from my dad that the measuring rule can also be used to measure words. Using the wrong words can cut the person who they are directed towards, so I learned from my dad to always think twice before you speak. You cannot take back your words after you say them so choose them wisely. I recall numerous times walking in to see my dad on the computer typing up a post for all you Cymbalholics. He would be sitting there staring at the screen and I would see the cursor blinking mid-sentence in front of him. He was thinking about the right words to use to convey his thoughts and his message to you all. If my dad would like us all to do one thing in his honor, it would be to always try and use the right words.
I am not here to fill pages of memories for you all. I know you all have your own memories of Mike Skiba, the greatest and most talented cymbalsmith in the world. I am here to honor my father’s memory and to ask for your help in continuing his legacy. Let me first thank you all for inspiring my dad to get up each day and seek knowledge. He loved to learn and you all made him want to learn as much as he could. I would also like to thank you for your friendship to him over the past many years. I will never know or realize just how big my dad’s presence was in this cymbal community but I know that playing the drums and making cymbals were his passion and his love.
My father taught me at a VERY young age how to play the drums. As many of you know, before he crafted cymbals he used to build custom maple drums. He crafted his own percussive instruments and those drums are all he has played for many, many years. Let’s face it; he deserved to play only perfection. I will never forget the smell of him staining his drum shells so many years ago. I will never forget watching him install the hardware and tune the drums with fresh drumheads. I will never forget going to the local drum shop to buy a new set of drumsticks with him because I had shredded mine on the edges of his cymbals. I will never forget the weekly Sunday night drum lessons where he would have me practice single stroke drum rolls and long double rolls. He gave me handouts from the Percussive Arts Society so I could learn International Drum Rudiments. Eventually I learned paradiddles and linear paradiddle grooves. He wrote sheet music for me and would print exercises from Modern Drummer magazine for me to read and practice. He taught me muscle memory and speed workouts and classic fills. I started out using a Real Feel practice pad before moving onto to playing a full kit. He bought me a workbook called Stick Control for the Snare Drummer when I joined band in elementary school. I performed my first snare drum solo in fifth grade in 2002. He helped me practice and perfect the music because the music deserved to be perfected.
However, the greatest musical memory I have of my dad is playing a drum duet with him on May 30, 2002 for my elementary school concert. For weeks in advance, we choreographed our own song that spanned the progression of my knowledge. Starting out with a basic paradiddle (where it all started), we progressed to basic 4/4 time and advanced through higher level elements including odd time and changing to ¾ time. We echoed each other and challenged each other. He called out to me and I answered back. I called out to him and he replied to my music. The duet ended in both of us drumming a double-bass blowout filled with riding on riveted chinas and alternating eighth notes between the high-hat stack and ride cymbal. We ended on beat 1 of a new measure with a stroke of a crash cymbal. I swear I have never seen him more proud.
These are the memories that I have of my father and his musical legacy. I ask that you as fellow musicians help me continue his legacy. I ask you all, to please respect my family as we are going through a great loss. My father’s memorial service is schedule for 12pm-4pm on Saturday November 20, 2010 at our home in Brick, NJ. I invite any local area musicians that knew my dad to come to his service. I would love to be able to speak/communicate with everyone who offers their condolences, but with a community this large, I do not think that is possible. I look forward to hearing and reading stories here on the forum, in the weeks ahead, of how my father knew you all and worked with you all. As stated previously, please respect our situation. Please remember my father’s work and continue to listen to the sound of his beautiful soul as it will eternally resonate in our hearts.
In loving memory of my father and best friend, Michael Skiba.
February 13, 1960-November 13, 2010.
brokenandrebuilding 