Yesterday, I lost that teacher. Mr. Rose. My band director for the first two years of high school. He was the type of man that you either loved or hated within 2 minutes of meeting him. He smoked (in the band room), he drank (we all knew it was in his coffee...in the band room), he swore to make a sailor blush (in the band room, the practice field, football games, etc), and he cared for each and every one of his students whether they liked him or not. He would gives his last few dollars in his pocket just to make sure his kids had reeds, oil, a registration fee. He was as coarse and crude and politically incorrect as possible. And we loved him.
My junior year, I auditioned for Field Commander/Drum Major. All the students that auditioned made up the "company" that followed commands given by the one currently in front of the judges. So many did well. Me? I ran the company into the gym wall! God bless him, Mr. Rose laughed so hard he had to sit down! Lol! Mr. D (assistant director) wasn't much better. *chuckle* Needless to say, I didn't get it. Not that year. My senior year, yeah. I got it. The sad thing about it was Mr. Rose had retired at the end of my junior year so he wasn't there to share it with. I did call him, though. The first thing he asked when I told him I auditioned again was if I ran the company into the wall! Lol! He was thrilled that I got it. I told him I spent my entire summer practicing with my SIL, Pam. I could hear the smile in his voice about that.
He loved Pammy. She was his go-to girl in the percussion section. Anything he needed from the percussion, she gave it ten-fold. She would also argue with him. Toe to toe, those two would go at it. She never backed down from him even when he threated her grade. If it was worth it, she argued. Ahh, he loved their fights. You could see it.
Mr. Rose was a perfect mix of grandpa and old geezer.
There are so many memories I could share but I think I will sit back and enjoy them for now.
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