During my junior year at Illinois Wesleyan University, I was selected in a national audition as one of 2 hornists in the All-American College Marching Show Band at Disneyland. Art Bartner, the director (& director of the Trojan Marching Band at USC), was a great influence on me. That summer Disney paid all expenses and brought many of the top pros to perform with our band.
My claim to fame there was that on the last day of our 2 week orientation and rehearsals, after having memorized all the music and dance/marching steps, Art asked for volunteers to demonstrate the "Saint Louis Blues" routine. He was not happy with the band messing up the steps, and I was dumb enough to volunteer along with a tuba and alto sax player. After 12 forward steps I did an about-face and the tuba player didn't. To this day I don't know if he or I was correct. We slammed into each other with such force that I passed out. When I came to, all 20 band members hovered over me with their hands over their mouths and gasps of sympathy. I felt where my front left tooth should have been and it was cracked in half. I was rushed to a dentist who was fantastic. I got my first of 4 temporary caps on the tooth and went back to the band hall. The bell of my horn was crinkled and the mouthpiece was stuck tight! I had a very fat, sore lip and a bruised ego. I was not going to let this chance of a lifetime pass me by. So when our band was slated to debut the next day at the employee baseball game, I insisted on playing my horn. I played on the very corner of my lips for the first week and gradually moved the horn to the center again. The temporary caps were very painful, but I'm thankful for the great dentist that took care of me.
Fifteen years later, Art Bartner came to Las Vegas, where I'd moved to teach, and guest conducted the Henderson Philharmonic, the community orchestra that I was playing in. He didn't know I was there and I couldn't wait to surprise him. He started telling the story of a horn player who lost his tooth and had the tenacity to keep playing. It was then that I stood up and said, Art, you're telling my story. That was one of the highlights of my life.
I wonder to this day if someone set that all up as a surprise for both of us or if it was serendipity.
Years later I had a school principal tell me that my strongest attribute was my tenacity. I like that.
