In fall 1972, when I was an introverted, nerdy 11-year-old, on the chubby side and already in 7th grade at Booker T. Washington Jr. High in Conroe, Texas, I signed up for beginner band. I really didn’t know what instrument to play, but after our director, Ray Sanders, let all of us newbies try our hand at a few, it was decided that the clarinet would be a good fit for me.
My dad, Clark, took me to a music store at the beloved old Sharpstown mall in Houston, where I saw a wooden Selmer Signet clarinet hanging on the wall behind the register. If my memory, which will be 64 years old in less than 2 weeks, is accurate, Dad paid about $175. (I just looked online and saw the same clarinet being offered for $350 and $400.)
That marked the beginning of a six-year love affair between me, that clarinet and school band at WJH and Conroe High. I also spent a year playing the baritone sax at North Harris County College (1978-79) before my overbearing (to put it gently) adoptive mother Olga (my brother and I wouldn’t find out we were adopted until 1981) allowed me to go off to Texas A&M in Fall ’79 when I turned 18 a little less than a year after HS graduation. During the summers of ’79 and ’80, I picked up my clarinet again and played in the NHCC concert band, including when I took the typing class in ’80 that I needed to qualify for journalism reporting classes my sophomore year at A&M.
But back to the start: I remember beginner band well – mostly because I had a good friend in the same class, Gordon Hetherington, who also played clarinet, and I had a huge crush on the girl who was first chair, Cindy Brown (I was second). I even gave Gordon a note to pass along to Cindy (he put it in her locker). But I was a first-class twit and she wasn’t interested in the slightest, so I was left to languish in my embarrassment. Junior high was not memorable for me – after having been at a Lutheran private school in Houston for first through part of sixth grades, fitting into public school, where I was bullied and a year younger than everyone else, was very difficult.
Band was an escape for me, though, and Mr. Sanders elevated me to Bulldog Band, the school’s top ensemble, during football season when I was in 8th grade in 1973. Learning how to march and play the songs the band performed – Hawaii Five-O, Popcorn, Get It On, Theme From Shaft – took time since I joined midseason. (Don’t ask me how I remember all those songs we played – I remember a lot from high school too!)
By the time I got to Conroe High in fall ’74 at age 13, I had no idea auditions for Ralph Rowe’s award-winning Tiger Marching Band had already taken place during the summer, so I could only watch and listen with amazement and dismay during pep rallies while I toiled in the second-tier concert band all year.
When auditions arrived the following summer before my sophomore year, my domineering/abusive mother wouldn’t allow me to try out for marching band. She said it was because, at 14, I was too young to stay after school for rehearsals and make the football trips. In reality, I was the youngest of her two adopted sons and she wanted to keep me under her thumb as she always had.
I was devastated. Some of my dear friends, including Karen Allen and Joe Zinecker, had made it to the Tiger Band and I spent the fall of ’75 in concert band again. So I made it my mission to shine in auditions later that fall that would determine where CHS musicians would spend the spring – in concert band or symphonic band, the top ensemble under the baton of Mr. Rowe, who would step down as program leader after that school year but stay on one more year to help with the transition to a new director.
I couldn’t tell you what music I played for the audition, but I do know it was in one of the band hall’s practice rooms with Mr. Rowe. Just the two of us. I was always nervous for auditions and contests – anything solo – but I must’ve impressed Mr. Rowe just enough. I wasn’t that confident of my chances, especially with the esteemed Mr. Rowe making the call. But when the results were posted on the bulletin board, I was on the list of about 15 clarinet players to qualify for symphonic band. I think I was listed as one of the lowest three chairs, but that didn’t matter – I’d made it!! A number of those who’d been in marching band – including my friend Joe, to my disappointment – were slotted in concert band.
That’s when band really started becoming fun for me. I’ve always said band was *the* highlight of my years at Conroe High. It’s not an exaggeration. I spent the next three years not only in symphonic band but also in marching band my junior and senior years after I was finally able to persuade my mother. Because of her, I wasn’t allowed to go out like most other kids, but the fun, friendships and camaraderie my bandmates and I shared are something I’ll never forget.
The only other band blip happened in 1978 during spring of my senior year. I had just turned 17 that February and my mother decided, while our symphonic band was spending long hours rehearsing after school for the upcoming UIL concert/sightreading contest, that I was spending too much time away from home. (I kid you not.) Several drinks in, she drove to the high school, found the band director, Mr. Wright (he came my junior year), and told him she was taking me out of band. I think he would have liked to try to reason with her, but when she’d been drinking, my mother rarely listened to reason. I left the band hall with her, mortified and, once again, shattered.
I don’t recall how many days passed before this happened, but it wasn’t long. Karen, the wonderful friend I mentioned who, with her family, literally helped me survive my homefront tumult in high school, came to our house with Jimmy, her boyfriend at the time. Karen told Mom how valuable I was to the band as one of its senior leaders, how much I was needed and how it would really be a boost if she would let me return. I was shocked to see that, with almost no resistance, Mom gave in. There are many things Karen has done for me that I will be forever grateful for – and that’s one.
In closing, I’d like to pay tribute to my band friends in the above full photo of the 1977 band who have passed away. There are 108 of us in the pic, but I know some were absent that day. We’re way too young to have lost so many, including several from my Class of ’78. There may be others I’m not aware of. Those band members are:
Jeff Agnor, nicknamed Aggie, drums, Class of ’78
Bill Crumpacker, a fellow Texas A&M Aggie, trombone, Class of ’78
Donna Harris, sax, Class of ’78
Daniel Knupp, trumpet, Class of ’78
Randy Howell, clarinet (he’s next to me in the photos), Class of ’79
Steve Sims, sax, Class of ’79
Cindy Coker, flute, Class of ’81
Also, my dear friend and classmate Joe “Little Joe” Zinecker whom I mentioned earlier, tragically passed away in December 2023. He had gotten out of band after our junior year so he’s not in the full band photo. Sharon Glisson, a bass clarinet player whose twin sister Sheila played trombone, also died of cancer some years ago. They were both in the CHS Class of ’80.
May they all rest in the Lord’s arms and their families be blessed by their memories. 
A Life of Words 