Brand-New College Student
On the evening of August 17, I got the Caddy gassed up and loaded, and we were on the road after Dad returned from work. All four of us set out for an overnight drive to the mountains of West Virginia. Mom and I did most of the driving. With a portable storage unit strapped to its roof, every inch of the Coupe DeVille was crammed.
The eight-hour trip landed us in Morgantown by early morning, and we unloaded my things into the CAC lobby along with the gear from other freshman Drumline members.
Popular music that heralded my arrival at WVU and complemented the first part of my college career were three summer/fall-of-’84 favorites: Cruel Summer by Bananarama, Go Insane by Lindsey Buckingham, and I’ll Wait by Van Halen.
“I’ll Wait” by Van Halen
I was to crash with an upperclassman, Liz H at her Pierpont House apartment for band camp week, and she would also help me move my things into Towers before classes began.
Drumline Placement Auditions
Drumline members reported to the percussion studio at the CAC. We congregated downstairs in the hallway, plagued by monster jitters. I was determined to blow it away and be assigned snare.
All the practicing I’d done … lessons with Mark … dreams about wearing that drum in one of the best Lines in the collegiate world … now came to this. My gut was in knots.
I was complimented by the judges, but my heart dropped lower than the deepest well in Texas when they told me they used a different grip—matched, while I had learned on traditional.
This was not specified in the audition information, and there was obviously no Web site to tip me off. I nailed the audition, but it was just too late to relearn my skills using this grip.
As a result, I was a cymbal player again. My disappointment was tempered only by the knowledge that at least I was IN. I intended to practice my hands bloody to make snare the following year.
My family stayed at the CAC for our first practice, and then we unloaded my stuff into a storage room inside. I then had to say goodbye, as they would drive back that night. Dad needed to rest before returning to work. We all anticipated my first homecoming at Thanksgiving.
This was no doubt a difficult time for my parents. After 17 years of loving and supporting me, I would now be flying solo—managing my own bank account, schedule and a host of other things they could no longer oversee. There were tears and hugs before they headed back to the Garden State.
I remain grateful to them for their sacrifices to this day.
Honing a Helluva Show
That was a grueling week for all band members, learning music and drill.
That season, we practiced at Old Mountaineer Field on the downtown campus (demolished in 1987). I had no conception of how grand “Old” Mountaineer Field had been—in its day, it had seen countless NCAA match-ups and was probably now filled with the silent roar of the ghosts who’d enjoyed many a game over the years. Now, it remained just a practice facility for us, the latest generation, who would never experience its former glory.
“Go Insane” by Lindsey Buckingham
Lindsey Buckingham – Go Insane
I got to know a lot of the others in the Line, suddenly a family linked by unique means. Practices were intense; the weather was hot and unforgiving and we worked hard.
As I grew my “sea legs” with the Drumline, I was oblivious to one John F in the tuba section who remembered me from Orientation, and who watched my every move at practices.
I spent some time with a nice upperclassman snare player, Mike L, a pretty decent kisser who gave amazing back rubs. We’d hang out at the Kappa Sigma house at the top of High Street with his friend Mike P, who played tenor drums in the Line and drove a Honda CRX.
A bunch of us would all pile into the back of that little thing on the way to and from practices, no doubt to the annoyance of the Morgantown police.
The week of Band Camp was a whirlwind of newness, and I was glad when it was time to move into Towers and get settled. Since Liz wasn’t around on moving day, I was grateful that a snare player, Polly L and another cymbal player, Lori D, Beth, and Nicky all helped me out.
“Red Skies” by The Fixx (radio cut)
Mike L brought me downtown to get a pair of the standard band shoes, Bucks, which I had to polish white. He and I hung out a lot, going out and hanging with Drumline friends.
What came next that week was what we wryly referred to as a “four-day-wonder”, a performance following minimal rehearsal time. We loaded eight buses and traveled down to Logan for performances at a local high school on Wednesday. We stayed with host families overnight, then headed to Charleston, the state capital.
We performed at the Sternwheel Regatta parade, and posed for a photo on the steps in front of the Capitol building. It was blistering hot. Blast furnaces have nothing on polyester band uniforms. We then gave another demo at a local high school band competition.
That night, on the road back to campus, I became a solid member of the Drumline’s “Buzz 3”. My “first-time story” was an obviously made-up tale about two dogs and a hamster in the back room of a pet shop. It apparently passed muster.
Classes began the week before Labor Day, and by then I’d gotten acquainted with my floor mates on the eighth floor of Tower One. I’d been all over campus running errands on my own. Then came the first home football game at the impressive Mountaineer Field that Saturday, vs. Ohio.
“And now, from the College of Creative Arts, on the campus of West Virginia University…”
What an experience.
We were at the foggy stadium at 6 AM for warm-ups (the Drumline always arrived 1 hour before everyone else).
By kickoff at 1, we were in uniform and had marched down the big hill on cadence by us drummers. Having practiced our Pre-game and Halftime drills to exhaustion, the Drumline opened in the end zone with the funky, crowd-electrifying Boogie Cadence to lead the rest of the 300+ piece band onto the turf.
1984 WVU Drumline Boogie Cadence (“Ain’t No Thang/Yer Mama”)
My heart soared as I hit every note and every step in front of the sellout home opener crowd, roaring with cheers and applause.
When we turned to face the press box and played the Star Spangled Banner, I gazed into the sea of thousands of faces in the stands, up toward the top of the towering press box. I felt completely engulfed by the music filling the stadium. It was absolutely amazing.
I had finally made it to the 50-yard line at WVU as a member of the Drumline, in the nationally acclaimed Mountaineer Marching Band.
During the game, we played in the stands, gearing up for time-outs, scoring, a sack or other notable gridiron moments. Of course, we drummers played and rapped more than anyone else, providing rhythm to the cheerleaders’ routines and kicking up some riffs to rally the fans and players.
At each touchdown or field goal, the buckskin-clad, bearded “Mountaineer” mascot would ceremoniously fire his rifle to a deafening uproar of cheers, and we would get cued for Fight Mountaineers and Hail West Virginia.
It was a heady combination of game excitement and crowd response. And so continued each home and away Division 1-A football game for me. We also won, 38-0.
That was also the season when Fairmont, WV’s hometown girl and Olympic Gymnastic Gold Medalist Mary Lou Retton was honored at one of the games.
We stood in concert formation as she was driven around the perimeter of the stadium in a convertible, waving to the crowd. I knew I was hooked. High school was nothing like this.
