Music had been around my house ever since I can remember. My mother would occasionally sit down and play a few hymns on our old upright piano. At church, my Dad would sometimes be a member of the choir. 

But my own musical journey began in 1962. I was ten years old in fifth grade. I wanted to play an instrument and be in a band. So I tried out and the band director felt I should learn the trombone.

After a year of trying my hardest and getting laughed at by my classmates for this goofy-looking instrument, I told my Dad that I just couldn’t go on any longer.

Then in seventh grade I thought that playing the drums would be cool. So I tried out for beginning band. But the band director (who knew my Dad) took me into his office and said I could be in “advanced band” if I learned the Baritone Horn. With my basics in the bass clef and the mouthpiece being the same as the trombone, I could pick it up quickly.

Advanced band was where all the good looking girls hung out, playing flutes and clarinets. So I jumped in and began to practice, practice, practice. And for the three years I was in Junior High, this became an easy grade to be put on my report card. 

My endeavors with the Baritone Horn led to being involved with the concert/marching band as I entered my High School years.