Band Geeks Rule

The Band Before Time

In early August 2012, a music teacher named Chris Drewry started his first day at the old North Mason High School, where the new Hawkins Middle School now sits. His first year there so happened to be my trumpet-playing brother, Steffen Riener's first year, too. In addition, it was the first year for Jacob Martin, a saxophone player; Will, a percussionist; and several other people I can't name because I wasn't there at that time. But this isn't really about me—well, not yet anyways; I make an appearance three years later.

Beforehand, North Mason High School did not have a marching band, well, not really, they had a band that played out on the football field at halftime, but there was no movement, nor choreography. That was all about to change with Mr. D. at the helm. Oh right—Mr. D. . . Staff and students found Drewry hard to pronounce, so instead, people just called him "Mr. D." or "D-Train." Anyway, from what most incoming freshmen that year recalled—and by "most" I mean, the three of them that got back to me—is the feeling of walking through the band doors not knowing what to expect; however, it didn't take them long to realize they were going to be a part of something extraordinary. Now, they had just left middle school behind which was led under the direction of Mr. Stan Yantis, another band director. Still, comparing middle school band to high school band is something you just can't do, because high school band is

well. . . different.

In high school marching band, you work harder, train more, and practice more; your blood, sweat, and tears are left on that field every time you perform or practice. Okay, well, maybe I exaggerated that last part slightly, but it was hard nonetheless. In high school band, it's not just about playing music, but about pushing yourself to become a better musician, a better person, it's about making friends, becoming a team, but, most of all, it's about becoming a family. So, let's go back. . .

It was early August, just a few days before the 2012-2013 school year was about to begin. Mr. D. was ready to get out there and show his new underlings how to be one with the music, but first, he needed to find a place to practice. That was probably one of the hardest things Mr. D. had to deal with because at that time the field (and there was only one at this time) at the high school was booked by either soccer or football. However, in the end, he was able to work out a schedule for. . . band camp.

Band camp is a two-week long event that takes place a few weeks before school starts, which most of the band students attend (not including Steffen his freshman year, because he's a scrub—well he was unable to attend). Band camp is where students learn how to march, play the field show music, and start learning the show choreography.

The very first year of band camp was disorganized and in Mr. D.'s own words was a giant mess, but Mr. D. said to himself, "I'm gonna make this work", and he did. Despite only having 18 people show up for camp, Mr. D. took that chaotic mess and turned it into art. He had them rehearse in the grass and in the parking lot and in the dark, it didn't matter—he was committed to making it work no matter what. Mr. D. was determined to see that everyone had everything down by the first performance. However, he ran into several problems. First, the band was small and he needed two drum majors. So, what Mr. D. did was he had two people switch out from the pit to be the drum major for one song, then switch for another. The drum majors that year were Caley Riggs and Catlin Couch. "They were great," according to Mr. D.

There were other problems other than not having two drum majors. He was annoyed with the uniforms the school had available, they did not match and must have been thirty or more years old. There weren't enough shakos or shoes to go around. There wasn't even a band trailer to take to competitions; they had to fit instruments and equipment in the back of trucks and hope the stuff didn't fall out or get rained on. The pit was also a mess; they had an old xylophone, a wooden cart to hold a tambourine shaker, and cymbals, and they didn't even have a drum major podium (they had to borrow Bainbridge Island's podium).

On the bright side, the bus could fit all 28 students. By the time school started most of the students knew their music and drill. And you know the old motto: practice, practice, practice. One more time usually meant ten more times and for good reason. Nevertheless, with all that work, the band was ready to rock and roll, and they did.

Their final performance took place at Auburn High School on November 7, 2012. The field show was a tribute to the Beatles, in which the band played a few of their hits. The band performed, giving everything they had. In the end, Mr. D. was in tears. He was so proud of the band he made—or rather, the band they had become.

Jacob Martin remembered his first field show very well. He said that the entire time he was following the senior sax player and was always four steps away from him. He recalled that just before the drum major began, the sky went dark and there was a dead quiet; as he lifted his sax, he zoned everything out and muscle memory took over. He remembered after ending on the last note and snapping his sax down, that everything was calm, yet he could hear his heart racing from all the adrenaline. This same feeling he said he felt throughout all four of his years with the band.

Mr. D. had taken something small, a complete mess of students, instruments, and equipment and turned it into something amazing. That's something very few people have the chance to do, and with every practice and every performance Mr. D. was more and more proud with his small group of musicians from Belfair. Nevertheless, marching season only lasts for so long, so Mr. D. filled the rest of the year with winter and spring concerts, in which the jazz, concert, and symphonic bands would play.

Unlike marching band, the jazz band was pretty good when Mr. D. arrived at North Mason High School. Despite only having ten people that first year, Mr. D. made it work because that's what he does. A lot of them were underclassmen and only one senior, yet they were good. They had three trumpets, five saxes, one bass player, and one drummer. The jazz band only had one competition and three performances that whole year.

Back then Mr. D. only had two periods of band—symphonic band, which was first period, and concert band, which was second period. Symphonic band and concert band would usually perform at concerts along with the jazz band. They all took turns, usually starting with the jazz band. At winter concerts the bands usually performed Christmas and seasonal music and in the spring the jazz band performed something funky, while concert and symphonic bands played more classical or contemporary pieces.

That first year, Mr. D. also taught guitar, but soon realized that these students weren't really interested in learning how to play the instrument, but rather more concerned with how cool they looked playing the guitar. Mr. D. went, "Nope." He was able to drop guitar the following year and added a percussion class instead. In addition, another change took place that spring. Mr. D. was able to convince the North Mason Music Boosters to buy new uniforms. Well, they weren't exactly new, they were used, but they were matching marching uniforms and now the band looked sharp. For the longest time,

the letters on the uniforms just read "NB" until one of the band moms embroidered a third letter—the letter M on all the jackets.

Just like anything else, all good things must come to an end. By the end of that first year, Mr. D. had one more concert; the End-O-Year concert, in which seniors said their goodbyes as they played the last song of their high school careers. That was the day Mr. D. really got to witness just how far his students had gone that first year and really grasped how much further they could go. It left quite an impact on him.

Mr. D. truly changed how those kids looked at music. He made a big impression on those students, but the students made an even bigger imprint on him. While seniors didn't get to spend a full four years with Mr. D., just one year was enough to inspire them, and for the freshmen, those inspirations were just beginning.