Circa 2015/16
“Learn a lot or don’t come home.
I love you.
Have Mr. Katz include Appalachian Spring in the band
concert.”
I said those same three statements to my daughter Sarah
three hundred and fifty-seven times during her 7th and 8th
grade years. I know this because it’s
how I said goodbye to her each morning dropping her off at Clark Middle
School. All of which earned me the ever-popular
eye roll followed by, “c-ya”.
Those who might doubt my mathematical computation are
underestimating my ability to be middle school child annoying. Each
semester I eagerly attended the school band concert awaiting the surprise of
Appalachian Spring filling the auditorium/cafeteria with it’s sweet
melody.
I was disappointed each time. I let my disappointment be known to Sarah.
Fast forward to the fall of 2017 and Marching Band
competition season. Sarah was now a
proud member of the flute section of the Centennial HS Mighty Titan Band. She had ‘made the show’, meaning she would be
marching in the competition season with a chance to ‘go to states’, and honor
reserved for a select few schools that march and play and show themselves to be
superior to other schools in the area.
Expectations were running high given that two years before the Band with
show entitled ‘Empire’ was selected for the state competition. 
It was a very cold evening that fall night as we waited for
the results. The drum majors in their
full regalia were standing at attention with their band sitting in the stands
on the far side of the field. The mins
dragged on. I sat there with my older
daughter who wasn’t shy about vocalizing her frustration as the waiting
surpassed 10 mins, 15 mins and more. 
I said, ‘Alex my guess is there is a tie in the score and
the judges/officials are trying to communicate everything to the band directors
who had been summoned to the press box 20 mins before. As the speakers in the stadium ended their
silence, everyone knew the math. Nineteen
bands had qualified for the area competition, so only three bands would be
going to states. As the school names
were read off each set of drum majors stepped forward and performed their ritual
salute. As we got down to bands 6 (not
us), then 5 (not us), then 4 – Centennial HS Frisco. What?
No? surely they read the wrong
school. 
The nerves and the shock and the disappointment was nearly
overwhelming for us parents, siblings and friends. I honestly thought my Alex was going to throw
up right then and there. She was crushed
for her sister and friends who wouldn’t have the chance to ‘go to states’ and
experience all of that recognition. As
it turns out, my guess was correct, there was a tie. Two schools for third place, our school and
another and using some tie breaking method the other school was award the
chance to go to San Antonio and compete at the state competition. 
Alex and I made our way out to the parking lot where all of
the school buses in the world had collected to transport all of these bands
home. We spoke briefly with friends in
the band we knew and told them how much we liked their performance and how
sorry we were for them missing states. Those awkward, cliché sentences that while well meaning may not be
helping those they are intended for at all.
The other pain of the night was knowing it would be two years before
they could try again – ‘states’ for band competition is an every other year event.
Fast forward to the spring of 2019.
While working away on yet another conference call at work my
cell phone rang. It was Sarah calling. Not texting but calling. I think this might have been the second time
in her life she actually called during work.
She texts quite a bit, but calling surely meant something had to have
been up. Worried I tossed off my headset
and swiped the phone to talk with her.
Sarah - “Dad, guess what?”
Me - “nothing’s wrong, right?”
Sarah - “no – nothings wrong. Guess what is included in our show next
fall?”
For the first time in years I didn’t think of the title of the song,
I was simply relieved there wasn’t something wrong.
Sarah - “Appalachian Spring, can you believe it?”
I thought she was pulling my leg. No lie, one of my first thoughts was, ‘this
is musical-magical-mojo’ and ‘they are going-to-states!’ I push that thought to the back of my mind
and never spoke about it, not once. Not
to anyone. I thought about it a lot. I
mean a lot, but I never spoke about it, least it not come true.
Late summer and early fall comes around with the band
working through their show. Competition
season is each weekend in October, and it is common for the first weekend or
two to not be the complete show, which was the case for the band. Which means they were not playing
Appalachian spring during those opening weeks.
I started to tell Sarah that I think she was really pulling
my leg and that they really were not playing it in the show. One evening I stopped by the south parking lot of school to
snap a few pictures of the band practicing.
Sarah, now a junior drum major up on a conducting stand, saw me, laughed
and said, “you just missed it, we went back to practicing part two.” ‘sure, you did’ I replied.
Then Mr Rein said, ‘full run through’ to which I looked back
over to Sarah who was already grinning back at me. I was impatient as the band ran through the
sections of the show I had witnessed them practice 837 times (not an exact
count, but pretty close). Then their marching
formations went from swirling ovals to formal marching band lines. The brass section knocked me back with the
sound I had waited for all this time. It
was beautiful. It was powerful and even
emotional. Appalachian spring was the
closer sound, the sound that would cap a fantastic Spring and Sprung show and
gain them high scores. Rewarding scores.
During the whole marching season I witnessed a half a dozen
or so practices. Some in 97+ degree heat
of August and some after long days of school.
I was struck by the togetherness, the encouragement and spirit the band
collectively had. Repeating sections of
the performance again, and again.
Checking their ‘dots’, correcting, then doing it all again and
again. Section leaders and other
shouting encouragement as they reset for the 23rd , 24th,
25th time to perfect each bit of the show. Other’s doing pushups as personal penalties
for not hitting their spots. The teamwork,
collaboration, support, togetherness I found to be exceptional. 
Fast forward to October 26, Area UIL competition day. Competition day for selecting which bands,
‘go to states’. Centennial didn’t have a
good draw for the preliminaries– performing second out of the 21 bands competing. The morning of the performance also presented
with 45 degrees making the instruments all that harder to produce a good sound.
The Mighty Titan Band performed
beautifully, now it would be up to the preliminary judges to determine which 10
bands perform in the evening finals competition.
At the preliminary awards Centennial advanced
to the finals with many of the other bands we know as very strong contenders. This year would be no different, the
competition in the finals would be very stiff in order to determine which 4
bands would head to San Antonio.
It’s often said in sports, leave it all out on the
field. In their group circles I
overheard the section leaders imploring each band mate to do exactly that. Give it their all, deliver greatness.
In their performance that evening the Mighty Titan Band
certainly delivered an inspired performance.
The marching was sharp, the solos/duets were stunning beautiful, the
quartet saxophone bees were great fun and as the horns turned to the crowd
Appalachian Spring filled the stadium for the crescendo of the show. They were done!
The last band of the competition performed and then the drum
majors marched in lining up waiting to hear their fate.
The announcements came late again. The 10th and 9th and 8th places were not
tremendous surprises. Then seventh place
was announced, it wasn’t Centennial.
Then sixth place, and the name ‘Love Joy High School’ was announced to
the audible surprise of the audience.
Love Joy was a perennial favorite to be a top band. This meant there was an opening in the top
four.
This is the part of the Friday’s Note where I share the
great news that some other school was announced in 5th place, the
last non-qualifying spot. The time when
I say all that hard work, all that encouragement, all of those hours and weeks
and months of practice paid off. When
the disappointment of missing going to states two years early by one spot
becomes just a distant pain. The spot in
the Friday’s Note where I say that the special musical-mojo of Appalachian
Spring catapulted them into the final four.
“In fifth place, ……………… Centennial High School Frisco”
The Titan drum majors in their formal whites stepped forward,
performed their salute, accepted their plaque, then stepped back into formation.
It was over.
One spot from states.
No going to San Antonio.
The rest of the award announcements were noise to me. I heard the school names, knowing kids and
parents associated with several of those schools. Surely they were excited. I could hear the screams, see the hugs,
smiles and laughter. Could hear their
bands yelling from the far side of the field excited for what they had
accomplished. All well deserved. It
just swirled around me.
I made my way out of the stadium to the side parking lot
where I knew the band would have to walk through. Jill came by pulling her little medical suitcase as
the medic for the band. Tears running
down her face. Forming full sentences
was a struggle for the two of us. A
little later as the band meandered by, Sarah spotted me and came over leaning into
me. I hugged her and said they had done
great and I was proud of them and proud of her. I was proud, more than any words could
appropriately convey. I had nothing
magical to say. The mojo was not there.
The special, weird connection of the Sarah and me and Appalachian Spring
had come up short. It’s one thing to
feel disappointment for oneself. I
discovered the level of pain is that much more when feeling disappointment for
your kids and kids you don’t know personally but wish so much for. I called Alex at college to tell her the
news and to buy time due to the traffic.
She was already aware of the results.
Apparently, twitter is faster than dad.
There was a lot of silence on the phone between us. We had no words as the feelings from two
years previous came back to us this night.
When Sarah eventually got home that night, we were sitting
in the kitchen talking about the day and she relayed the following story to me.
It was very quiet on the bus after the
competition, while being stuck in the parking lot gridlock. The mood somber with some members quietly crying in
their disappointment. The marching season
was effectively over, over before they wanted it to be. That is when Matt, a senior trumpet player
and section leader stood and loudly exclaimed, “I have announcement to
make! I hereby retire from Marching
Band!” Smiles and a little laughter
greeted his proclamation. He had broken
the silence and even brought semi-forced smiles to some faces. Things loosened up and people started talking. As had been done during summer band camp,
after school practices and Friday Night Light performances the band was
together. Lifting each other up and
moving forward, even if it was forward through a painful life lesson.
I’ll leave the discussion and disdain for judge number 2 to
another day. Today is for celebrating
the band, their togetherness, their leadership, their work ethic and their beautiful
power and excellent performance of their show Spring has Sprung, including
Appalachian Spring.
It will always have a little magic-mojo to me, but a little less than the day before.
Here is the Centennial High School Mighty Titan Band competition show Spring has Spung!
