Help us find Annie
Independence Day, 2007
Our community band was invited to play last Saturday night for a “Twilight Tattoo” ceremony at Fort McHenry, and it was a marvelous reaffirmation of what it means to be an American.
We got the call because the USAF band was unable to make the date, in spite of the fact that the Air Force drill & ceremonies team was the main attraction.
When our booking manager got the call, his first response was to ask how many other bands had turned down the gig, after the Air Force. The ranger in charge of the place said we had been recommended by someone on the staff who had heard us perform, just as they learned the AF band was unavailable. We were told that we would be the first civilian band to play at McHenry, ever.
As it happens, we were the first to play there in over a generation, but not the first ever. On September 14, 1961 the Baltimore City Post Office band played there, with my father filling in on sousaphone. (That in itself is another story.)
We had only about ten days notice, and we were thrilled.
For those who don’t know, or have forgotten, Fort McHenry sits at the mouth of the Baltimore Harbor, and it’s the place that Francis Scott Key observed under attack while detained aboard a British warship in 1812. This was when he wrote “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which became the national anthem of the USA in 1931. The fort is a national historical site. The flag that Key wrote about was a huge banner, 30 by 42 feet, with fifteen stars and fifteen stripes. The over sized flag had been expressly ordered by General Armistead, commandant of the fort, knowing that a British attack was imminent. In the audacious spirit of the day, Armistead decided that he wanted a flag big enough that the Brits would make no mistake about identifying it. The original flag is on display in Washington, and the Fort flies a full-sized replica of it.
Saturday was a perfect day for this kind of event, temperature in the upper seventies, low humidity, and a constant breeze off the harbor. A crowd of close to a thousand people had gathered at the parade ground, enclosed by the fort. Three fife-and-drum groups in vintage costume performed ahead of us. The main act, to follow our set, was the USAF drill team.
The emcee for the ceremony was Alan Walden, a local radio newsman with a voice like 30-year-old single malt scotch. Alan is semi-retired, and has emceed all the Fort McHenry events for years, as a labor of love. He is one of a rare breed among broadcasters—a newsman who is unabashedly and sentimentally patriotic. Alan announced each of our numbers, leaving a little less time for chops-recovery than our band announcer generally gives us, so it was a real workout. But between the great acoustics of the place and an enthusiastic crowd, we were supercharged, and gave what was perhaps the best performance ever for this band. Here was the program:
- Stars and Stripes Forever (featuring five piccolo players)
- Armed Forces Salute (a medley of all the service songs)
- The Fairest of The Fair March (Sousa)
- Battle Hymn of the Republic (a nice concert arrangement)
- The Liberty Bell March
- America The Beautiful (Carmen Dragon’s arrangement for symphonic band)
- The Star-Spangled Banner
But just before the National Anthem, we had the opportunity to play the centerpiece of our set—The Fort McHenry March. This unpublished march had been written in the early 1970s by Betty Hocker, a woman who sang with the Baltimore Civic Opera, and had been arranged by one of the local band leaders. It was played at Orioles games for a year or so and forgotten. We were given the manuscript of the march about two years ago by the composer, who is now 96 years old, and living at one of the retirement communities where we play. We’ve been performing it here and there ever since, and the park officials were thrilled to learn of its existence. To our great delight the composer, Mrs. Hocker, was on hand for this performance, and got a huge ovation.
After our concert, lasting about half an hour, the drill team performed. This group of airmen do a half hour of close-order drill featuring not only the normal manual of arms, but a number of daring and precision maneuvers using the M1 “Garand” rifle, with fixed bayonets. (A lot of sharp steel whirling around in the air.)
These guys are nothing short of amazing, handling those rifles weighing over eleven pounds, a bit more than four feet long with fixed bayonets. At the end of the drill team performance, the active-duty Air Force officer who had been appointed adjutant of the day did a quick inspection ceremony of the drill team and the fife and drum outfits, which were still on the field.
Now it was up to me to play “Taps” as the ceremony ended. I have performed this bugle call perhaps six times, never before this kind of audience, much less in such a sacred setting. All went well, and as I played those 24 notes, I was aware of nothing other than the sound of my bugle and that wonderful big flag filling the sky in front of my eyes.
Finally it was time for the fort’s last official function of the day, “retiring the flag.” The big banner is flown only during daylight hours, and each evening it is exchanged for a smaller flag that’s flown during the night (by Presidential proclamation). Folding the big flag requires at least twenty people, and the custom at McHenry is to invite anyone who is interested to participate. As the lanyard was undone, at first about two dozen children came forward, at the urging of their parents. But as the flag began to descend, a wave of several hundred people started moving towards it. At one moment, what you saw from my vantage point was this larger-than-life flag lowered to about shoulder level, as hundreds of hands reached up to touch it.
Across the field, my wife watched as a space opened up along one edge of the flag, and out of the audience rushed an elderly, diminutive Asian couple, who ran up and seized the hem of that flag as though it was the most important moment of their lives.
I can’t precisely describe the feeling I’m left with after all this. Somehow, I feel “light,” as though some nasty burden has been lifted off my shoulders.
Those of you who know me well know that I read, and blog about political news, most of which is just shot full of tragedy, outrage, hostility and cynicism.
Of everything I have done in the sixty years I’ve been on this Earth, nothing has been quite so transcendent as this two hour event last week.
I hope each of you has your own opportunity to have such an experience.
God Bless The USA.