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"Yo, man. Hattiesburg?! Fa real? Whas yo name?" he started before fully entering the room again. "Tony Lymon." I answered. "John Corley. I'm the bass tech." he informed me. "You study with Sherman Hong?" he asked. "Yep!" i replied. John Corley. Definitely from Hattiesburg, for sure. He knew everything I knew about the area. With every word of this conversation, I become more and more certain that I was going to be a part of this group. I now felt like I had an ally in this uncertain war of notoriety and standing out from the crowd. But, there was still and unanswered question. How did a guy from Hattiesburg get the gig as a bass tech at one of the best drum corps in the country and I didn't know him? So, I unabashedly asked him, "How in the Hell did you get this gig? Did you go to USM?" I asked without flinching. "I marched bass at Garfield... Thom Hannum's like my daddy!" he said.
"That's cool..." I said, trying to play cool and not freak out like I was in my mind. "What choo tryin' out for, bro?" John asked. "Well, I really wanted to play timpani, but I heard that girl from Boston is here. So, I'm trying out for snare. I'm doing pretty good so far. But, I really like timpani. I ain't leaving here until I have a spot somewhere. I don't really care where it is." I said to him emphatically. Before I could finish he said, "Hold on..." He briskly left the room and came back with a companion. "Hey, Chris, man, 'dis my boy, Tony. He from Mississippi, too. He goes to Southern Miss and studies with Sherman Hong." he added. "Hi, I'm Chris Lee," said this guy who looked wildly familiar. "You're not Resphigi!" he joked. "Nah, just a joke." I said. "He wanna play timpani why don't you hook him up with an audition," John pushed through.
"Chris marched Garfield with me, too. He was in the pit there." John continued. OHHHHHHH SNAPPP!! This was the guy who played all the crazy, fast xylophone licks on all the videos. He got all the camera time in the pit in 1987!! Here he was standing right in front of me! This was getting better by the minute! "Well, we don't really have a spot for a person who only plays timpani. You have to be good at EVERYTHING," Chris said. "You got anything worked up?" he added. "Yeah, I have timpani, mallets, snare and multi-percussion pieces ready to play." I said confidently, but not too much as to seem cocky. I could see the, "yeah, right" look in his eyes. I was quite used to this look. because of my physical appearance, you know: large black guy; people always underestimated my musical abilities. There was this time I was playing with the Mobile Opera Company, I walked in the door for the first rehearsal and the concertmaster immediately runs over to me and shows me to the electrical room of the theatre. "We're glad you're here!" she said frantically. "The air conditioner has been making this awful noise..." she said without even batting an eye. "Ma'am," I interrupted, "I'm the new timpanist."
I knew I had to be better than great at this audition. I waited for a second. Chris and John went to go assemble the powers that be. For some reason, I wasn't nervous. I'm not sure why. Here I was about to play for at least two of my heroes of DCI. "Ok, Tony. We're ready." Chris called. I walked into the room. Wow! All of the percussion instruments I saw on the video of Star from this past year. Those cool airport carts with the "Star of Indiana" logo painted on them. What a geek I was; starstruck by percussion instruments. Sitting in the room was Bob Dubinksi, Chris Lee and Thom Hannum. THOM HANNUM?!?!?! Holy Crap! I didn't know he was even with Star of Indiana! Now the pressure's on. This is the first time I felt a tinge of anxiety. Seeing Thom in that room was like seeing The President or The Pope or something like that.
"Hi, Mr. Hannum." I said nervously. "Haha. Just call me Thom. Mr. Hannum's my dad!" he jokingly responded. Ok, that was cool. "You gonna come back to Southern Miss and give us another clinic?" I asked trying to break the ice. "Thom" had come Southern Miss that past February while I was a senior in high school. I was a member of the All-South Honor Band hosted by the Southern Miss School of Music and he was the guest clinician for the percussionists. "You're from Southern Miss? Sherman Hong..." he said. My studio professor, Sherman Hong, was a well known percussion judge in DCI. He was infamous for slamming groups if you weren't absolutely perfect. "Ahhh - Ah Shermah Ah- Hong!" Dubie started with a ridiculous Chinese accent. "Yeah, man. It was a lot of fun. I hope they ask me back," Thom said. "Ok, let's hear some stuff." Thom added instantly.
I began to play. I started with timpani. I played a piece that I wrote specifically for this audition. I wanted to be able to show them all I could do in about 1 minute. They laughed several times while I was playing. I didn't really know how to take it at that moment. I soon found, that was their way of appreciating my playing. They had me play a little part of the timpani piece again. "That's pretty damn cool, that part." Thom said. Thom Hannum said something "I" wrote was cool?? Wow! Next, I played marimba. I started with "Yellow After the Rain" by Mitchell Peters because I knew I could play that without thinking about it. 5 notes into it, I hear, "Cut!!!!" from all three people in the room. "Play something else, please. You got anything else?" Chris Lee says. "Yellow After the Rain" is the "Freebird" of marimba I found out at that camp. So, I start into Movement I of "Two Mexican Dances for Marimba" by Gordon Stout. This was a pretty advanced piece. It certainly wasn't as "automatic" as the Peter's piece, but it was close enough as I was still working it out. They liked it! I finished off with some multi-percussion pieces.
"I think you're gonna be a great asset to the group. Just come in here with the pit after lunch." Thom said. I got nods all the way around from the three percussion kings evaluating my performance. Just like that; I as trying out for the pit. What I always wanted! That girl from Boston (who I later found out was Julie Angelis, sister of Nick Angelis)never showed up.
"Yo, Tone, before you go... walk over there and hit that concert bass drum as hard as you can." Thom said. What? Why? Huh? Well, at this point I needed to do whatever they asked. I went over... BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!! "Holy Canoli!" Dubie exclaimed. After that, Thom calls the entire percussion staff into the room. Now it's Thom Hannum, Brent Montgomery, Pat Scolin, John Corley and Chris Lee. "Hey guys, check this out..." Thom says. Again, BOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!! Dust fell from the ceiling! They all explode in laughter. And, that was it -my coronation into the Star of Indiana Front Ensemble Percussion. So, does that mean I'm in? They didn't say I was terrible. I guess. I'll know soon. I hear over the PA system, "Ryan Duvall you have a call at the office, Ryan Duvall..." That was the Ryan I rode there with. hmmm... Lunch is done.
Then from here on out it was a series of freaky encounters with people I knew or had some connection with. I was standing in line for dinner and I see this girl with platinum blonde hair. The kind of blonde that you have to stare at because it stands out from everyone! She sat down in front of me at the dinner table. "Hey, you're that girl!" I said. "Hey, you're that guy!" she replied. This was Angie Mefford a mellophone player from Union, Missouri. One random day in the Fall, I met her at Southern Miss in the band office. She was there for a campus visit. She was transferring to Southern Miss after this Summer. Wow! What are the odds. Later that night. I see this skinny little guy who was obviously in high school. He was a baritone player. Ok, so this kid has on a Southern Miss sweatshirt. Now it's just freaky. "Hey, where did you get that USM shirt from?" I asked. "I grew up in Sumrall, Mississippi. My mom and I just moved to Newburgh, Indiana and I go to Castle High School." This guy was a young Wes Morehead, whom I later went to Southern Miss with and became one of my best friends. Not 10 minutes pass until I see another familiar face. Steve Bennett a Euphonium player from Columbus, Mississippi whom I met in the 1990 Mississippi All-State Lions Band. Wow! Incredible! I was not alone. I now didn't feel the burden of holding up Mississippi's reputation on my shoulders.
Later that night, we went to the field house at Indiana University because the corps was learning drill sets. The pit went along, but we could not play. I wandered around by myself a little just exploring this unknown place. Just thinking about the possibilities. Was I going to be in? Did they tell everyone "you're going to be a great asset to the group?" Can I allow myself to go ahead and get excited about this? Not realizing how much time had passed, I decided to navigate myself back to the center of the action. I sit down on the turf next to a stately older man dressed in all blue. He was wearing steel-framed spectacles with a pocket protector nestled neatly in the front slot of his crisply starched shirt. Like most grandpa-like men, he looked on to the corps "pretending" to know exactly what was going on. I always found this endearing. They are so supportive of their "yungin'" that they will play the part. This man had a very inviting presence.
We wake up the next morning (Sunday) and it's time for the community showers again. I have to admit, that took some getting used to. Another time, I hear, "Ryan Duvall you have a call at the office, Ryan Duvall..." Was something wrong? Everyone in the pit was required to do an exit interview before they left. This was basically to let you know your status before the next camp. They would let you know if you were cut or invited back and what you needed to work on for the next camp. I'm sitting at the breakfast table and all the guys I rode there with approached me. "Dude, Ryan's dad had a heart attack. We have to leave." Chris Gilmore said. What??? I was torn between concern for Ryan's dad and the fact that we got to the camp late and now we we're leaving early. Well, I had to go let Chris Lee know. He gave me my interview early. He went to go get my audition card. While I was waiting, Jen Koening came over with her instant charm. "You're a really cool guy. You're going to make it, I don't know what you're worried about. I'm worried about you taking MY spot!" she giggled. Jen was going into her 3rd year of being in the corps and in the pit. There was no way she was getting cut. But I could tell she was just making me feel at home. I appreciated that. "You are amazing! I'll see you at the next camp!" she said as she went into the pit room to warmup. "I hope so..." I said sotto voce. She didn't hear that.
Chris was back. We sat down in the hallway. Before he started I apologized profusely. He proceeded to tell me how well the audition went for me and how I would make a great addition to the group if I continued to work. All of which I was flattered by. I never heard what I wanted to hear: "You are in The Star of Indiana." I had to break it down for him. "Am I definitely in the group?" I asked emphatically. "Well, we don't guarantee ANYONE a spot," he came back, "not even vets. We want you to continue to work hard at each camp and show improvement..." he went on. I couldn't operate with that uncertainty. I just boldly came out and said, "Look, I really need to know. I have no car, no money, nothing. I'm going to make this happen and I am going to be the BEST member of this group. All I need you to do is to tell me I have a spot. That's all." I said starring him dead in the eye. "Ok. You're in. You're the only person I have said that to. We were looking for a guy who was all around on every instrument and you just fell out of the sky. Don't let anyone know that I have told you this." he stated. "I won't, " I said, "I just needed to know I am working my butt off for something that's definite!" I said. "So, do you age out this year or do you have two more years?" he asked inquisitively. "Chris, I'm a freshman, I just turned 18 last month." I said. Chris looked as if he had just won the lottery! He then proceeded to write a bunch of "pluses" on my card with a red pen. "Dude! this is good... pshh... see you at the next camp!" he said.
Off we went, 5 dudes in a minivan back to Mississippi. I noticed that Ryan was as not as "affected" as I thought someone would be if their dad was on the brink of death. I didn't think much of it. I had accomplished what I set out to do: leave Indiana as a member of Star of Indiana. My heart was pounding, my brain was racing and my spirit was certainly soaring. I was content. Yet another moment where God has just set me up. This simple kid from the Delta with a broken past, would now be on the DCI TV broadcast just like I promised Granny.
Part 4 - Coming Soon...
Very nice read.
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