Echoes of Devotion: The Journey of Noah Paulin’s Violin

By Sheann Brandon on April 28, 2025

Share this

PUC-Noah-Paulin-Violin.jpg

Noah E. Paulin’s violin has never been silent for long. Nearly 60 years after his passing, Paulin’s beloved instrument—like his legacy—is a testament to music’s lasting power to connect generations in praise to Christ.

The violin itself is beautiful and unique–a light golden brown with four strings. The top of the violin, known as the scroll, is carved into the likeness of German composer Felix Mendelssohn. While lovingly maintained, the violin bears the marks of life well-played.

A Life of Music and Ministry

There’s no official record of when Paulin acquired the violin, but his own musical journey began long before he became known as the “Patriarch of Howell Mountain.”

Paulin nurtured his passion for music at Findlay College from 1898-1901 before touring the country for two years with the Henry Minstrels. In 1905, he moved to Santa Barbara, taking graduate classes and establishing a well-known music studio, where he shared his love of music for nine years.

His life took a spiritual turn in 1909 after attending evangelistic meetings by H.M.S. Richards, where he was inspired to join the Seventh-day Adventist Church. From then on, his violin became a tool of ministry, played at camp meetings, church gatherings, and more.

In 1914, then president of Pacific Union College C. Walter Irwin, invited Paulin to join the faculty. Paulin walked onto the campus with a few belongings, some sheet music, and, of course, his beloved violin, prepared to build a music department. At the time, PUC hosted only 250 students and had recently relocated from Healdsburg to Angwin.

For the next three decades, Paulin dedicated himself to shaping the college’s music program, directing the band, orchestra, Sabbath school ensembles, and various other groups. He taught music theory, mentored students, and continued to play his violin.

According to his obituary in the Pacific Union Recorder, Paulin’s years of service were “fruitful ones,” and his influence on students was immeasurable. Those who knew him recalled that he could play at least 150 songs from memory, with a signature piece called “Tears.” He played this piece for special and solemn occasions, including a long-standing tradition of honoring PUC presidents as a final farewell. “I have played in and played out every college president since C. Walter Irwin with my violin,” Paulin once said.

He retired in 1944. Just a year before his death, his violin would start another journey.

A Legacy Passed On

Paulin taught numerous students during his lifetime. Among them was Orval Peterson, a talented violinist. Years later, in 1968, Orval and his wife were visiting PUC and helping the aging Paulins move out of their on-campus home. That day, Paulin entrusted his violin to Orval, passing it on from one devoted musician to another.

“One of the things that Noah had said when he gave the violin to my dad was, ‘I don’t want this to just sit in some museum like a relic. I want it to be used,’” recalls Orval’s daughter Anne Dunn, ’76. Orval honored that wish.

Paulin was reunited with his violin—one final time—at his funeral on October 16, 1969. Just as Paulin had done for so many others, Orval performed “Tears” as a farewell to the incredible man.

Anne recalls that Orval continued to play the violin in convalescent hospitals, churches, weddings, and special events throughout California, ensuring its music didn’t fade. In the 1990s, he invested nearly $5,000 to have it restored, ensuring its song for future generations.

The Violin’s Journey to Monterey Bay Academy

As years passed, Orval, Anne, and Anne’s husband, Richard Dunn,’75, discussed the violin’s future. Wanting to keep it active, they decided to loan it to Monterey Bay Academy, where Anne and Richard were longtime supporters.

“We prayed about loaning the violin to MBA,” Richard explained. “I said, ‘You know what? This would just continue the legacy for the violin to be used.’”

Placed under the care of MBA’s Academic Vice Principal Tim Hansen—a gifted musician himself and director of MBA’s vocal group, the Oceanaires—the violin found a new home to continue its tradition of inspiring musicians.

Connecting Generations

Despite its time away from PUC, Paulin’s violin still connects past and present.

Recently, PUC sophomore Luke Garcia, a biology and pre-physical therapy major and an alumnus of MBA, had a providential encounter that connected him with this piece of PUC history.

Tim Kubrock, a retired teacher and administrator and now a volunteer at MBA, was visiting PUC for College Days with a group of seniors. While standing in Paulin Hall, he saw Luke and struck up a conversation. He pointed to a photograph of Paulin and mentioned the violin’s whereabouts. “Immediately, Luke was interested and excited, saying he would love to see the violin in person one day,” Kubrock recalled.

Kubrock went on to connect Luke with Hansen, and upon Luke’s next visit to MBA, Luke got his chance.

In a quiet music room at MBA, Luke played an excerpt of “Czardas” on the violin.

“The violin had the most round, warm, and full tone of any violin I’ve ever played,” Luke said. “I felt honored. Knowing that it’s a piece of history from my school, I didn’t take the opportunity for granted.”

He added, “I can only imagine how Paulin’s violin would sound in the concert hall. I hope one day, the violin is played again or displayed in Paulin Hall for others to see a piece of PUC’s history.”

A Legacy Still Echoing

As Anne and Richard reflect on the violin’s journey, they find themselves drawn back to PUC—where its melodies first filled the halls more than a century ago.

“Love of music was a common denominator in so many of these situations,” said Richard. “It influenced Paulin to give up a comfortable life in Santa Barbara to come to a then-fledgling school.”

Though its path, for now, has taken it beyond Howell Mountain, the journey of Paulin’s violin is a reflection of his own: one marked by purpose, ministry, and a lasting impact on generations. And like Paulin’s legacy, the music lives on.