September 11th in the U.S. Army Band

It’s only days away from September 11th, 2011. It is hard believe it’s been ten years since the devastating and cowardly attacks on American soil. The chaotic images are burned into my mind. Vivid as if it was yesterday…

But in so many other ways it feels like an entirely different lifetime.

September 10th, 2001. Norfolk, VA.

For the past two months I’d been hanging with 25 other band soldiers learning how to be Staff Sergeants. We were learning how to run and rehearse our own group, how to be drum majors, how to conduct a military ceremony, and of course, taking more private lessons. Basically the next level up of Army music school.

It was great. The group was pretty tight. We’d go clubbing, go to the beach, go to Dairy Queen for ice cream (this was a very frequent stop) or just hang out drinking beers. Throw in some informal jam sessions and you’ve got my summer. Not too shabby.

As Sept 11th was approaching I’d been preparing the class for the day off. You see, I’ve been celebrating 9/11 my whole life. It’s my birthday.

“Don’t worry, I have connections. ” I’d said, “We’re getting the day off.”

Little had I known, my prediction was about to become a grim reality. By lunchtime the next day the towers had fallen and the pentagon was burning. Flight 93 had come down and all training on the base was suspended. We were told to stay on the post and remain vigilant. The rest of the day we huddled around the television unable to comprehend what had happened or why.

So here I am ten years later, beginning the downward spiral towards 40 and reflecting on the last decade.

I’m no longer a swinging single. Settled down with a family. This is a vast improvement over my previous life.

My body aches these days for no reason other than being alive. Some mornings just getting out of bed is a challenge. The gray hairs on my head seem to be gaining more ground everyday.

I’m a better player/composer then I was 10 years ago. Although I could’ve been far better, if I’d practiced every day… but I didn’t. It would come in phases. I’d be working towards an event, or playing with a new band. But other times I’d lose focus and find other, and far less productive, activities to keep myself busy. Life has a habit of getting in the way.

Some other changes are a direct result of 9/11.

These changes, however, were not instantaneous. After the attacks, I was just as pissed off as the rest of the country. I wanted heads to roll. I was anxious for our “High-SpeedSuper-Badasses” to go over there and flatten the entire area. And I carried that rage for a long time. But vengeance is not a healthy emotion. And I don’t have the energy to live with hate for ten years. Not to say I wasn’t excited when we caught Saddam (I was only a few miles from the hole they dragged him out of), or that it didn’t please me to hear that Osama is out of the picture… permanently.

Most of my changes came from being deployed. It is a life changing experience, both good and bad. Sometimes it’s strange for me to try to explain it, because unless you’ve been Over There you’re just not going to understand. This is not a criticism. It’s a fact. A good analogy is becoming a parent. When you first bring home that tiny, little person and you realize that you are completely and utterly responsible for everything that happens to her – the time babysitting your sister’s kids and multiple screenings of “Look Who’s Talking” go right out the window. Some things just have to be lived through.

I am more patriotic now. Not in a “my country is better than yours” kind of way, which has always struck me as really arrogant. More in a quiet unassuming way. Appreciating the sacrifices, tenacity and unwavering resilience of my fellow Americans, past and present.

My feelings towards the Army Band have changed. Before it was just a job – a fun way to pay bills while I figured out “what to do when I grew up”. Now I see it as a valuable service. Something far greater than me and my day-to-day happenings.

Legacy, tradition and brotherhood are words that tend to sound clichéd and antiquated. Soundbites tossed around by politicians to sway the vote. But that doesn’t mean they don’t ring true. Not only to the Band, or even the Army. But the military as a whole.

It’s very humbling to realize that you’re following in footsteps that have been laid down since the beginning of civilization. Citizens coming together to defend their homes, fight for their independence, or liberate their neighbors from oppression.

I feel a kinship with other Bandsmen. I meet Army Band Veterans from Vietnam and I can relate to their stories. As I’m sure they can relate to mine. I can share a beer with a retired Marine in a run down V.F.W. and understand where he’s coming from. I now know why my grandfather always watched War movies and the History channel. The desert (or the jungle, etc.) stays with you.

Ten years ago my life was one dimensional. I could describe myself in a single word: Musician. The past decade has brought perspective and depth. Suffering and change are valuable teachers. I can no longer encapsulate myself with a single word. And that, I think, is a good thing.