Will Bugle for Food

by Drew Holmes

As I took my place on stage the gravity of what I was about to attempt set it: For the first time in my life, I was about to sight read a concert. How on earth did I get talked into this?

In the summer following junior year in high school, I attended Massachusetts Boy’s State. Sponsored by the American Legion and hosted at Bentley College, this weeklong program brought boys together from across the commonwealth. Grouped into towns and cities, we created our own mini societies while learning the ins and outs of state and local government.

Shortly after arriving on campus, I was recruited to be the bugler at the daily raising and lowering of the colors. Having been the bugler for my Boy Scout troop, this was in my wheelhouse. When I discovered that serving in this role would guarantee a spot at the front of the line for breakfast and dinner, I accepted the duty quickly.

Playing solo in front of a few hundred people tends to get you noticed, so what happened next was not a surprise.

Musicians always find each other, and breakfast that first morning was no exception. A group of attendees had formed a pickup band and they wanted me for trumpet section. Rehearsals conflicted with gym time, and as a rabid volleyball fan I planned to leverage our open access to the athletic facilities into long afternoons spent serving, setting, and spiking. I politely declined the offer to join the band.

Every day another band member would ask and every day I would decline. As the week was ending, I finally understood their persistence: the band was performing at the closing ceremony and there was only one other trumpet player.

In my haste to accept the bugling gig before anyone else could say yes, I had failed to notice there *was* no one else.

The final recruiting call came after the last rehearsal — Would I be willing to sight-read the concert? Half guilty at having blown off the band and half wondering if I could pull it off, I said yes. With the concert less than a day away there was no time to fully regret this decision.

I do not remember much about the show, though considering the lack of preparation I do know it was passable. What I do remember was the joy of being a part of the group and finding kindred spirits. In the years since I have found those friends in music in every new place I have worked or lived.

The epilogue of my Boy’s State experience was written a few years later when I unexpectedly reconnected with Thaddeus, the other trumpet player from the band. I was working that summer as a Guide at Tanglewood, and he was singing with the Tanglewood Festival Chorus. We recognized each other and reminisced about that week at Bentley and the mostly sight-read performance. Knowing how way leads on to way, I would be unsurprised if I meet him again and will enjoy sharing stories of our journeys in the decades since.

Music has the power to take us places and introduce us to people we otherwise would never have the privilege of knowing. All it takes is an adventurous spirit and the willingness to go where the roads leads us.