Saturday, April 25, 2009

Full Circle




My dad bought me my first trombone the summer before I started junior high. It was a Conn 16H Director model student horn, and it was brand new. Don't let the term "student horn" fool you. Conn was known to produce the best American-made musical instruments for years, and even their beginner's instruments were well built. And not cheap. Well after proving that I was serious about playing, Dad bought me another trombone when I started high school. The horn he found for me was a Conn 88H large bore tenor trombone with an F attachment trigger. It had a thin rose brass bell (ultra rare and highly prized by professionals for the warm tone it produces), and nickel and gold plating throughout. If the student horn was the Chevy, this new horn was a fully loaded Cadillac. And the sounds I was able to get out of that old horn were pretty damn sweet if I do say so myself. But of course I didn't fully appreciate the rarity or the value (both monetary and sentimental) of the 88H, and I sold it to my fellow trombone player friend Brian Montgomery so that I could give the money to my mom for the 1979 Monte Carlo she was buying for me. Yes, I sold a horn that my dad paid for and gave the money to my mom. Did I mention I was a teenager? Since when were teenagers expected to make good decisions? Anyway, a few years later after selling my student model horn to a friend I found myself trombone-less. Until this week, I hadn't played a trombone since 1996.


Until this week. Thanks to facebook, I reconnected with Brian and asked him if he still had the old horn. He said that he had donated it to the high school 15 years ago after he lost interest in playing. I contacted another friend Shelly Taylor Bode who is the vice president of the Hannibal Band Boosters and asked her if she could try to find out if the horn was still there. Her sax-playing daughter Angela asked her trombone player friend Danika (the daughter of another former band mate of mine named Steve) if she'd ever seen a horn matching the description of mine. Immediately, Danika said yes and in fact she had played my old trombone before. After all these years, it was sitting in a locker in the band room just waiting for me to find it.



Several cool things developed after this quest began. I was inspired by Brian to start a used instrument donation drive. I dedicated that to the memory of another friend and former band mate Jason Dugger, who had recently passed away. Desiring a more lasting tribute, I came up with the idea to start The Jason Dugger Memorial Instrument Fund. Also, Shelly told me the boosters could use some help with raising money for band camp scholarships for kids who can't afford the fees which gave me the perfect opportunity to honor my former band director by creating the Craig Buck Scholarship Fund. Finally, when Shelly said the boosters wanted me to try to get former band members involved with the band program, I created the Pirate Pride Band Alumni Association. Membership dues go to support the two funds and the band boosters. But there was one more cool thing that had to happen. I had to get that old horn back.



And now I do have that old horn back, twenty years after selling it to Brian. I can't go into details, but suffice it to say that the band now has a brand new trombone to use, and I have my old 88H again. And I'll tell you something, after practicing a little every day since I got it back this week, that old horn is starting to sound pretty good again. I feel like I have recovered more than an instrument. I have replaced a part of my soul that has been missing for a long time. Despite having a beautiful wife who enables me and two awesome kids who fill my heart with boundless joy, there was always something that I couldn't quite put my finger on that made me feel unfulfilled. I guess it was not having (and playing) that old trombone. A painter without her brushes or a sculptor without his chisel can have a happy marriage and great kids, but will they ever be truly happy without the tools they use to express themselves? I doubt it.



So beware the band geek! Or band stud. After coming around full circle, I'm back baby. I'm back.

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