Little Man, Big Noise

​I began school at Alameda Jr. High just a couple of days after moving to Pocatello a couple of months into my 7th grade year in 1981. This school operated differently than any school I had ever attended before.  They had what was called a “homeroom” that we would meet in every morning for announcements.  Our homeroom advisor was Mr. McDonald.  He taught social studies and the sort.

​In my homeroom were a couple of friends from when I lived in the area previously.  Jeanette Edwards and Ryan Hall were friends that I had from back in 1st grade and now we were reunited here.  Jeanette used to be best friends with Diana Almohanna, whom I’d had a crush on since that same 1st grade year.  I was excited to find out that Diana was still around and attending Alameda as well.

​I signed up for a number of different required classes and then went to the music room to sign up for band.  The director was a pretty lady named Mrs. Leeds.  She barely held back her laughter when she asked me what instrument I played and I replied, “the tuba.”  

​She scanned my short body and said “That’s pretty funny.  Is this a joke?”

​I told her no and handed her my request form.

​They had three band classes, Pep Band, Concert Band and Symphonic Band.  The Symphonic Band was for the advanced musicians.  This is where I thought I should be placed but Mrs. Leeds thought otherwise.  She signed my registration slip for Concert Band.

​I was not happy about this and when I got home that day I told my mom I was going to quit band.  She knew I was hurt but she challenged me anyway to go to Concert Band the next day and show her what I could do.  I agreed and said I would show the teacher she was wrong for laughing.​

​The next day I had one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.  Concert Band was the first class of the day.  As I entered the classroom I waited until the majority of the class had taken their places.  Mrs. Leeds looked at me again with a sort of smirk and pointed to the tuba in the back of the room.  I had my own mouthpiece already so I took it over to the tuba and placed it in the receiver pipe.  I wasn’t real familiar with the type of tuba I was to play here, but I knew it played the same.  I was actually used to the sousaphone, which all the other schools used.  A sousaphone is the big instrument that wraps around the player and is supported by the shoulder.  You can usually find the sousaphone in the marching bands.  This tuba was an upright instrument that is the proper tuba for concert situations.  

​Mrs. Leeds pointed to a chair where she wanted me to sit in front of the percussion section and next to the trombone players.  I sat on the chair and hoisted the tuba up and sat the bottom of the instrument on the chair between my legs.  Now I was ready!  

​Not exactly.  The mouthpiece was prodding me right in the forehead!  Mrs. Leeds did not notice and she proceeded to warm up the band.  As she scanned the room she realized that I was not playing.  She halted the band playing and asked me if there was a problem.  I exclaimed to her that I could not reach the mouthpiece and the class erupted in laughter.  Mrs. Leeds did not hold back either as she let out a howl and slapped her knee.  Once she calmed down she grabbed a thick phone book and brought it up to me.  I quickly placed it under myself while leaving the tuba sitting in its place on the chair.  

​“Not enough” I said, just as Mrs. Leeds had turned to go back to her podium.

​She shook her head and retrieved two more books, of which I needed both.  The snickering was still present among my classmates and I could feel the tips of my ears burning with embarrassment and anger.

​Mrs. Leeds stepped back up to her podium and continued with the warm up exercises, of which I did not participate in.  I blew warm air into the mouthpiece and made sure that the spit valve was cleared.  I oiled the valves and worked them with my fingers attempting to familiarize them with the feel of this new instrument.  

​“Ok everyone, Mrs. Leeds bellowed, Let’s open up the music to the Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

​I opened up my folder along with the rest of the band and found the crisp, clean and obviously unused music specifically written with the tuba part.  I laid it on my stand and positioned myself in the proper playing form, back straight, head up and eyes forward.  I was ready and excited.  The selected music was perfect with a very strong bass line that began in the 6th measure.  It was also very basic for me, as I had played music much more advanced.  Now was my chance to redeem myself, and force a little crow eating by everyone else in the room.

​Mrs. Leeds brought her arms up and down in a swooping motion and the music began.  It wasn’t real pleasant either though you could make out what was being played.  I counted and took a deep breath during the fifth measure.  I began to play.

​The sound was strong and deep and yet still smooth and clear.  By the end of the 10th or 11th measure I realized that the rest of the band had stopped playing and Mrs. Leeds was staring at me, mouth agape.  She stopped conducting and so I stopped and asked her the same question she had asked me just a few moments before.  “Is there a problem?”

​Firmly and seriously she responded, “I want you in the Symphonic Band beginning tomorrow.  I will take care of the changes, you just show up right here during 7th period!”

​I smiled and nodded my acknowledgement.  Little did she know that I had left 7th period completely free.  It was for Symphonic Band and I knew it.  I just needed her to know it as well.

​The next day at Symphonic Band, things started off similarly to the previous morning.  Giggling and fingers pointing at me when I retrieved my phone books.  Mrs. Leeds, however, was not joining in on this day.  She just winked at me with a look that said, “let ‘em have it.”  And I did.

        From that day through the rest of Jr. High. High School and College, my tuba and I, and a few phone books, were found together creating gasps of surprise wherever we went!