The Last Time Through The Air Lock

Some of my fondest memories from high school came from my involvement in marching band. One of my favorite memories was the final marching band competition during my junior year. This was the first year that we had ever gone to the Bands of America Grand Nationals in Indianapolis, Indiana. In the world of competitive high school marching band this is the equivalent of the Super Bowl. In November bands from all over the country, some as small as sixteen members while others numbered over three hundred, compete for a national title and bragging rights for a year. Until this last year the event had taken place at the RCA Dome. This venue was unique in that the material that made up the roof of the dome was held up by air pressure and a long standing tradition at Grand Nationals is for all competing bands to pass through the “air lock” to get to the field. Though it was necessary to do this because of how the Dome was designed, it became a rite of passage for all competitors.

The day before the last performance of my junior year started early for us. We had left school at around seven o’clock the night before and had got to the motel at around one o’clock in the morning. Taking into account that the last game of the World Series was on and the usual getting settled in to a new place, no one got to bed before two thirty, and we had to be up a five for breakfast and at the practice site by seven. The day dawned cloudy with light rain, high winds, and a forecasted daily high of thirty-three degrees without the wind chill. I had the presence of mind to bring warm clothing and to dress in layers, but my friends weren’t as well prepared, and as a result morale suffered. To say practice started off badly would be putting it mildly. There were people not paying attention, not being prepared, and just not caring what they were doing. Not four days before we had just won our fourth state title and I’ll admit we all felt pretty cocky going into this competition and the first half of practice reflected this. It got to the point where our band director, Mr. Harris, called us all off the field and told us to “get it together or we were going to withdraw from the competition get back on the busses and go home.” After that little “pep talk” we started to get our act together and practice started to turn for the better.

It should be understood that while it was mostly our state of mind and our lack of energy that contributed to the morning practice going the way it did, the adverse weather conditions did play a part in it as well. One of the most prevalent difficulties we as a band faced that day as far as the weather was concerned was the temperature. Thirty-three degrees is considered cold by most people but add to that almost constantly gusting winds with light rain mingled with sleet and it becomes ten times worse. I had on several layers of warm clothes and when the wind hit me I might as well have had a tee-shirt on, there were times it seemed like the wind was going through me. We were all thankful when we broke for lunch and got the chance to warm up, and adjust our attitudes.

After a break for lunch we found a second wind and were able to turn the practice around and end the day on a high note. We all knew that if the next day’s practice went the way it did that day we wouldn’t have a prayer of holding our own in the competition.

The next morning everyone seemed to move with a purpose and practice that morning went much better than the one that took place the previous day. Even the weather seemed to cooperate with us. The biting cold and the almost constant wind gusts had been replaced by bright sunny skies and temperatures that topped out in the upper fifties. We all took this as a sign of good things to come. During the bus ride the mood was light. At one point someone started singing their part of the show and slowly everyone started joining in with their parts. With both drum majors conducting us “sang” the entire show from the first down beat to the end of the show. To this day I do not know who it was that started it, but I’m glad they did because it allowed us all to cut up a little bit and relax our nerves because going into a competition like Grand Nationals, there is no room for nerves.
Once we arrived at the Dome we went immediately into warm-ups. While the musical and physical warm-ups were important, our mental warm up is the one that meant the most to us. I cannot fully put into words the full impact that the mental warm-up had on all of us. It is something that one has to be a part of to truly understand but at the same time, have no explanation for. The closest I can come to describing what took place is the funneling of all our emotions fear, joy, pride, and a host of others into one small tightly compacted form leaving only pure focus and determination to show on our faces, in our eyes. With that ritual completed we left the warm-up area and stepped into the air lock.

The first performance seemed to take just a second, eight minutes and fifty-two seconds compressed into an instant, one second the show started and the next I was playing the last notes of the show. When I experienced this I knew at that moment that I had held nothing back and had put myself into my performance. And looking around as we walked off the field I knew that all eighty-eight of us had done the same thing. We had taken all of our emotions that we had packed away and then released them using the performance as a vehicle to convey them to the audience. The emotions written into the music mixed with those being given off by us, the performers, creating an experience that no one will ever forget.

After the run we went into the stands to await the announcement of the semi-finalist bands. Our performance marked the end of preliminaries in which ninety-four bands participated; most of them were three to four times our size. Of these bands only thirty-two would get a place in semi-semi finals and only twelve of those thirty-two would get a spot in finals. As the announcing began we all counted down until only one slot remained. The announcer paused for dramatic effect lasting only a few seconds, but to us it felt like hours. Then we heard what we had all been hoping for, we were in semi-finals.

The warm-up process repeated itself but this time there were tears in our eyes. The upcoming performance marked not only the end of our season, but the end of our senior’s involvement with the band. Young men and women who we have developed close bonds with, had less than ten minutes left in a program that they had poured their hearts and souls into for the last four years. It was also the end of an era. We had been given the honor of being the last Bands of America Grand Nationals semi-finalist band to ever pass through the air lock and take the field at the RCA Dome.

Our semi-finals run went as well as the first, but like I said there’s only room for twelve bands in finals, and Bands of America doesn’t really like bands of less than one hundred members. On the bus ride home that night when most of the others had fallen asleep I allowed myself some time for reflection. A big theme that we always pushed for was having no regrets. And looking back on the season, each competition, every practice, and even all the way back to band camp remembering the highs and the lows, chuckling to myself at the funny moments and sniffling at the sad I had a smile on my face when I fell asleep.

Arriving back at school at four thirty in the morning after a week that started out with nearly freezing to death at some random high school and ended with memories and experiences that I will never forget, I got my duffle bag and walked out to my truck in the parking lot. After tossing my stuff in the bed and climbing into the cab, I recalled what I had been thinking about on the bus. As I pulled out of the parking lot I knew that I had no regrets.

By Adam Wilck