Editor’s note: This is another column in Bill Boyd’s new series, “The Way It Was,” about growing up in Marysville. Bill continues to work with the Union County Historical Society to obtain information for his stories. With Marysville and Union County celebrating Bicentennial anniversaries in 2019 and 2020, respectively, these articles help depict what life was like in those early years.
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When I was about 12 years old, I went to a band concert in the high school auditorium. The MHS band was performing. I thought it was wonderful.
There was one song that featured a trumpet solo by a boy named Bert Sawyer. Boy was he good, and every eye in the auditorium was on him as he played.
Wouldn’t it be neat if, when I am in high school, I could play a trumpet solo like Bert? I could see myself on that stage, playing the same song. Of course, I would first have to learn how to play a trumpet.
So the following week I started working on my mother. I told her how much I wanted to learn to play a trumpet, and how good Bert Sawyer was in his solo, and how much I wanted to play that same song someday on the same stage.
Trumpets were not inexpensive, but somehow my mother was able to squirrel away enough money out of her grocery budget to buy me a trumpet. She was really good about things like that.
Once I got the horn, I started taking lessons at school from school music director Donald Euverard. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be, but I kept plugging away at it.
I had to deal with three problems. First, I had no innate musical talent. I think it was a genetic thing, as there really weren’t any good musicians in our family. Second, I had a tin ear. So no matter how out of tune I was playing, it sounded good to me.
But third, one of my biggest problems was my dad. You see, he was pretty set in his ways. Just about every day after dinner he went to his easy chair in our living room to read the newspapers – both the Columbus Dispatch and the Marysville Tribune. He devoured every page.
Unfortunately, the time after dinner was also when I practiced with my trumpet, and a trumpet is a pretty loud instrument. He just couldn’t concentrate on his newspaper while I was practicing.
So my dad suggested that I practice when I got home from school, before dinner. I really couldn’t do that, however, because that’s when I had basketball practice and things like that.
He said maybe I could practice outdoors, but my mother said that would disturb the neighbors. So you can see my dilemma. I think that played a big part in why I never got to play that trumpet solo on the high school stage.
It would be a lot different today. I mean, I would be able to play in the same room where my dad was reading, and he would never even hear it. I’ll tell you how I know that.
Our son-in-law, Mike Meyer, is a trumpet player. During the late seventies and early eighties, he was part of a band called “The Danger Brothers.” He is retired now, but he still loves to play his trumpet. In fact, he plays it almost every day.
He even plays it sometimes here at our house, and we never hear a thing because he uses something called the “Silent Brass System.” It features some kind of special mute that blocks all sound from the horn’s bell. Yet it produces the notes electronically, so he can hear the music through his headset. He can even input other instruments, so it’s just like having of the Danger Brothers back again. He has a great time, and we don’t hear a thing.
I bet if I had one of those “Silent Brass” things back in the forties, I could have played that trumpet solo. Maybe I wouldn’t have been as good as Bert Sawyer, but I could have played it.
Those wishing to contact Bill Boyd can e-mail him at bill@davidwboyd.com