| Below alumni of the Cal Aggie Marching Band share their favorite stories about their band days. Included are the anecdotes printed in UC Davis Magazine, along with a few additional ones.
After the South Dakota game, the three university vans headed home, out across South Dakota. Band members got to Rapid City about 11 at night, but they decided to go up to see if they could see Mount Rushmore. So they drove the three vans up there and into the huge parking lot, and pretty soon here comes behind them a car with red and blue lights. It stopped and a park ranger got out and said, "What are you doing?" They explained that they were the band from the University of California, Davis, and that they had played a football game at South Dakota State. He said, "Park those vans right over there." So they drove the vans over and got out wondering what's going to happen, how are we going to explain this when we get home. All of a sudden the whole monument lights up. The ranger had turned the lights on for the Aggie band at midnight.--Brian Thompson, a 1949 graduate of UC Berkeley, father of two UC Davis band alumni and a baritone horn player with the alumni band since 1985 This was back in 1983-84, and we are down at Northridge for a football game. We are lined up on the sidelines toward the end zone, getting ready to go in for halftime. Then time runs out and the teams start to leave the field. It's rather typical for a football team to run through a band whenever possible, even deviating when necessary to hit through the people to show off: "We're the football players. You guys are just wimpy bandsmen." Then I notice one of the Northridge players, who must have been one of the newer players, start to divert so he could run through us. He starts heading over our way and then another one of the players, probably an older one who had been around, grabbed him by the shoulder pads. He spun him around and yelled at him, "You don't run through that band." It was either a sign of fear or respect, but it amazed me because we scared not only the other school but their football players.--Jim Berry, sousaphone and trombone player in 1983-87, now an attorney with D-M Information Systems in Davis and president of the Cal Aggie Marching Band Alumni Association
Probably my favorite memory was when I last saw Chancellor Emil Mrak. It was a Picnic Day, and we were at the tail end of the parade as the Mav'rik Band. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw we had just passed by Dr. Mrak on the sidewalk, who was politely applauding whatever we were doing at the time. This was well after he had retired. I led the band back to where he stood, we marched all around him, I crashed the cymbals, the trombones played a big slide intro, and we all played "Hot Time" for him. He was so moved he was crying a bit--couldn't thank us enough. He had been a really big supporter. It was a seriously touching moment. He died shortly thereafter.--Glen Paetz, cymbal and bass drum player in 1966-71, currently research and development project manager, chemical analysis group, for Hewlett-Packard in Palo Alto
The setting and time is the away football game at the University of the Pacific in the fall of around 1972. It's a day game and the weather has been rainy--very. Halftime arrives and the football field is a mess. The announcer for the first band to perform says over the PA system in a very sedate, flat voice: "Ladies and gentlemen, due to the condition of the field the UOP Tiger Marching Band will perform in the stands." And so they did, just sitting there. Meanwhile, the rain has stopped and the Aggie Band has removed its raincoats and is quietly making its way to one of the end zones in full-dress marching uniforms. As the UOP band finishes, the Aggie band's drum major (one of the best it ever had back then, Rick Blanc) whistled the band to march into the end zone to start its show. As the band did its fast high-step onto the field two things happened simultaneously: The sun came out blazing its golden light all over the band, and the electric, earth-moving "voice of the Aggie Band"--announcer Bruce Raful--shattered the afternoon air with these words: "Ladies and gentlemen, due to the atrocious condition of the field, the University of California Aggie Marching Band WILL march!" And march they did. They played their hearts out and their marching was flawless; they did not hold back in their high-stepping, and that is no mean feat on a muddy field. As Bruce Raful left the announcer's booth, a policeman approached him [and said], "My God, what I just saw your band do, I believe it could walk on water!" Mud will do, thank you.--Steve Shuman, glockenspiel player in 1965-69, currently a writer and illustrator of children's books, living in Attleboro, Mass. We'd brought a Jolly Roger flag [to the football game at Hayward State] and flown it on the bus, and a drummer named J.D. brought it into the game with him. Hayward had a flag that one of their male cheerleaders would parade around with when their team scored, so J.D. decided to celebrate each Aggie touchdown by taking a lap around the track with the Jolly Roger. Aggie teams being what they were (and still are), J.D. had more opportunities that day than did the Hayward cheerleader. And their fans didn't enjoy having their noses rubbed in it. On about J.D.'s third trip around the track, a group of big Hayward guys came down from the stands and were waiting for him when he entered the home stretch. An accomplished athlete as well as a musician, J.D. tried to run right through them, but their numbers prevailed and J.D. disappeared in a sea of red shirts. Several other Aggie bandsmen ran down to help him, and a couple of minutes and a couple of torn "Hell Yes" shirts later the Jolly Roger completed its victory lap. Subsequent Aggie touchdowns that day were celebrated from our spot in the stands: We may be brave, but we're not stupid.--Paul Zinn, trumpet, sousaphone and drum player 1986-90, student director in 1989 and currently documentation technologist for Remedy Corp. in the Bay Area We stayed in a junior high school in New Haven in the gym, and the principal of the junior high wanted a chaperone. Well, I haven't even heard the word chaperone myself since the '60s. So Rachel, our general manager, said that she was the chaperone. And they said, "How old are you?" And she said, "22."--Jonathan Elkus, faculty director When we took the band to Europe in 1985, we were up in a small mountain resort town in Romania. . . . The band was not content to simply look at the scenery, so they went out into the parking lot and began playing traditional Aggie band numbers--music with the cadence and the style that is known to the Aggie band. They were playing away, and these people who were obviously tourists came over to where we were and they said, "We heard that sound, and we knew it had to be the Aggie band!" It was an Aggie band alum and his family, and they recognized the sound. There is something very distinctive about the band's music and spirit that are contagious, and I think that has been a real hallmark of their contribution to the campus.--Ted Adams, director of the Student Programs and Activities Center We were playing Sac State in a basketball game at Hickey, and during the middle of the game all of the lights in the gym went out. When they came back on a few moments later, there were chickens all over the floor, and a banner had been rolled down that said "Aggies--C.S."--obviously a Sac State prank. But we got them back good. When it was our turn to visit them shortly thereafter, the band flooded our campus with flyers telling students how important the Sac State away game was and told them that the starting time was 45 minutes earlier than it actually was. So a half hour before game time, the stands were sold out, and the place was full mostly with Davis students, with the Sac State fans standing outside with the fire officials who had closed the gym due to overcrowding.--Bruce Raful, trumpet and bass drum player in 1965-69, longtime band announcer (whose exaggerated enunciation led to "band-uh") and currently a member of the Marin County Committee on School District Organization, treasurer for Assemblywoman Kerry Mazzoni and owner of a real estate appraisal firm in San Anselmo The North Dakota trip was the most fantastic trip ever. It was playoffs for the women's elite 8 basketball team my sophomore year. And we rocked Grand Forks from bottom to top. We had a guy from the Rotary Club take us to a pizza diner. We had boxes of cookies and fruit left for us from Grand Forks fans who came to the game. We had a visiting team that ended up in the championship game ask us to play for them as their band, which we declined because we kind of had issues with that.--Rachel Meyer, trumpet player 1995-2000, general manager in 1999 Fall was my favorite time of year, because I equated fall with football season. What I loved most about this season was not necessarily the football game itself, but the period before the game when we prepared to march over to Toomey. I remember the feel of my dark blue full-dress uniform, which was heavy, somewhat constrictive, unable to effectively insulate us from either the cold or the heat, but which looked very sharp and which I was extremely proud to wear. I also recall standing in the middle of Hutchison Drive underneath those marvelous trees that line the street near the band office--the leaves a patchwork of green, orange and gold--listening to the sounds of my friends laughing, of instruments being warmed up and tuned, and feeling the anticipation of yet another Aggie victory.--Pat Lourimore, mellophone player in 1985-89, currently a career resource librarian for the NOVA Private Industry Council living in Sunnyvale and public information officer for the alumni band My favorite memories of the band were the road trips. Although it was fun to line up outside the band room and march over to tiny Toomey field, it was even more fun to go to other colleges and bother the people there. I think many of the small schools we played in sports were not used to seeing a band come in, especially as loud and obnoxious as we were. With our limited budget, it was hard to make it to some of the far away colleges--like during my freshman year when we went to Portland--but we would scrape together a band and transportation and go anyway. Anytime we stopped to eat at McDonalds, we would troop en masse into the restaurant and sing the McDonald's theme song: "Grab a bucket and mop, shine from bottom to top, tell me what does it mean, at McDonald's we're clean. You deserve a break today. . . ." On the way to Humboldt every year, we would parade up and down the main drag of Willits, playing songs and entertaining people. Every San Francisco State trip included a rally at Ghirardelli Square.--Bob Kenyon, tenor saxophone player 1975-80 and student director in 1979, currently a software engineer at Lockheed Martin Missiles and Space in San Jose
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I traveled with a chaperone. . . . I was to be quite proper, and I was told that I was not to date the band members. But I broke that rule and married the front-row trombone player. It didn't seem like a harsh rule at the time. There were men all over the place--no shortage of them. But this very shy fellow in the front row I found quite appealing.--Evelyn Rominger (right), who joined the band as its second drum majorette and only female member in 1947 and who later married that shy fellow, Richard Rominger, now U.S. deputy secretary of agriculture
My best memory of the band was going to a football playoff game in Kingsville, Texas, in 1996. The band had less than one week to find an inexpensive and efficient way to make it to the playoff game against Texas A&M, Kingsville. We chartered a Greyhound bus, and about 40 band members spent 36 hours on that bus travelling to Kingsville. Texas was ranked No. 1, so we were not expected to win the game. There we were--yelling, playing, marching and supporting our team to the best of our ability while wearing wool uniforms in the Texas humidity. The Aggies won the game, and we were so excited that the band rushed the field to congratulate the team [adjacent photo]. Then, as the team went into a huddle on the field, they invited the band to join them. We were so proud of them and so excited to have been a part of that historic event.--Tammy Perkins, alto saxophone player in 1992-97 and general manager in 1996; currently a graduate student living in Davis and vice president of the alumni band
One accomplishment that really stands out is playing at the funeral for [alumnus and band benefactor Warren] Mooney. The way we looked and played, the way the band filed in hats in hand, in full dress--I was absolutely wrecked. Mr. Mooney said we always played with soul, and we do and we did.--Jonathan Elkus, faculty director (right)