Challenges didn't tarnish beautiful spirit.

Byline: Dianne Williamson

COLUMN: DIANNE WILLIAMSON

Walter Crockett was playing for the popular band Zonkaraz at Clark University's spree day when, as he recalled, "I looked around to see whose eye was worth catching."

Not surprisingly, he settled on the gorgeous green eyes of Valerie Orchinik, a stunning student with a striking smile and breezy way of dancing. That same night, Walter took Valerie to a friend's house and played all of his songs for her. She liked them, a lot.

Within two months they were living together in a three-decker on Maywood Street, but not everyone was thrilled with their relationship. Valerie's dad, in particular, tried to talk her out of marrying Walter - she was a 20-year-old junior with promising prospects; he was a 30-year-old musician with long hair.

"Her father told her she could meet someone much better looking than me," Walter said.

Luckily for Walter and music fans throughout New England, Valerie ignored her dad's advice and married him in June 1979, a year after she graduated from Clark and shortly after Walter overheard her singing in the kitchen and was delighted to learn that the woman he loved was blessed with an evocative alto voice.

Walter and Valerie - you rarely said one name without the other - would make beautiful music together for 30 years, until she was silenced Sunday night after a three-year battle with cancer. It was a tragic loss and, on one level, the Crocketts have been cursed with more than their share of pain, from their daughter's brain tumor to Walter's prostate cancer and, now, Valerie's death at 53.

But that's only part of their story. Nine years ago, when I wrote about Emily's tumor, Valerie dismissed any notion that the family deserved sympathy.

"We have a wonderful life," she said. "We tend to focus on our blessings rather than challenges."

They've had both in spades. In fall 1978, the couple formed the band Crockett, and later the Oxymorons. They played their original music - an appealing mix of bluegrass, folk and rock - at clubs and coffeehouses throughout New England. Valerie's voice was strong and lovely, whether singing lead vocals or harmony.

"We all wanted what they had," said Paul Della Valle, a friend who will eulogize Valerie at her memorial Saturday. "It wasn't just the harmony when they were singing - their lives were in perfect harmony. It's a cliche, but they had what no money could buy. Everyone was in love with Valerie, and Valerie was in love with Walter."

The couple had two children, Jackson and Emily, who wasn't expected to see her 10th birthday when she was diagnosed in childhood with a fast-growing brain tumor. While the tumor sapped Emily's vision and the strength in her left side, it turned her mother into a fierce advocate. A magna cum laude graduate with a sharp mind, Valerie researched special education laws and ensured that Emily received the proper accommodations from the Worcester public schools.

"She's been my best friend pretty much my whole life," said Emily, now 24 and a student at Harvard. "She was the most incredible mom you could possibly imagine."

Three years ago, the mother who so tirelessly cared for her ill child received her own devastating diagnosis - leiomyosarcoma, a rare, resistant cancer. She had a radical hysterectomy in fall 2006 and the couple resumed performing. The cancer returned a year later, and then came Walter's diagnosis with prostate cancer. Last fall, Emily's liver surgery was scheduled around her mom's chemotherapy.

"I've had days when I could hardly put one foot in front of the other," Walter acknowledged this week. "But it's self-indulgent and I can't afford to go there." He paused. "Val was good at pulling me out of it."

Walter survived his cancer, but knew that Valerie would not survive hers. Over the last year, the couple that was always first on the dance floor turned their attention to "collecting sunsets," driving at dusk to hills in Leicester, Barre and Paxton. As usual, they meshed perfectly - Walter liked to drive, and Valerie preferred riding.

The night before she died, she was transferred to hospice and her son, Jackson, spent the night in her room.

"She told me she wanted me to finish my master's degree and be happy," said Jackson, a graduate student at George Washington University. "She said she wanted to die peacefully, with no pain or fear. Then she told me to go to sleep because I was tired."

The next day, Valerie was unconscious. Friends such as Chuck and Mud came and sang to her, the same musicians who would gather in the Crockett kitchen on Saturday nights for raucous jam sessions. Shortly before midnight on Sunday, with family by her side, Valerie died peacefully.

Now, Walter and his children are planning her memorial. It will feature lots of live music by the many men and women who loved Valerie Crockett and will long remember her effortless grace, charm and talent.

"Wherever we went, I always thought Val was the prettiest girl in the room," Walter said. "She looked kind of different at the end. But she was still herself, still the beauty on the inside. We were very, very lucky."

Contact Dianne Williamson via e-mail at [e-mail]

ART: PHOTO

CUTLINE: Valerie and Walter Crockett were married for 30 years before she died Sunday after a three-year battle with cancer.