jazz9

Ok, here's mine.

When I was about 6, I watched the annual parade in our town. I always wanted to be in one of those marching bands after that day. I would even try to follow them and march behind them until my parents stopped me. Eventually, I got to the age of beginning band for our program. The high school band director came in the room and called for anyone who wanted to be in band, and I was the first one out the door to try. At first, he was just formal and nice, and I tried out a couple of instruments. I wanted to be a drummer SO bad, but I just wasn't cut out for it. He said I could play sax or trombone. I wanted the sax, but my dad just wouldn't buy one for me. He said he could get me a trumpet (an old Yamaha student model for $100), so that's what I played. It wasn't even in my top five choices, but the trumpet was for me.

Over the years, I got to know Mr. Weller, the band director, better and better. He was really nice and supportive, and he told me I should practice more, I would get better. So I toiled away grudgingly and made it to first chair by 8th grade. He said he thought I would be a soloist in high school, and I practiced even more, this time with much more enthusiasm. I loved trumpet playing, and Mr. Weller was there for encouragement every step of the way. I couldn't pass the seniors in freshman year, so I was stuck in fifth chair. He told me not to get frustrated because I was not on first part, but I could barely stand it. Those meaningless (or so I thought) 2nd and 3rd parts did a number on me, but I kept putting in that practice time at home. Finally, after months of trial and error, I hit that glorious high C in the second half of my freshman year. I was hooked, and there would be no turning back.

I got better, and then he told me he was retiring after sophomore year. I was just devastated; he was by far my favorite teacher ever, and he was leaving. I used to come in his office every morning and talk for 30 minutes about music and stayed 30 minutes after school to talk or duet with him. He was leaving, but he promised I'd see him again. So it was my junior year, and the new guy was not high on my like list. (for lack of better terms) Then Mr. Weller called me and said he'd be offering private lessons. I never had a private lesson until November of last year when he called. We still get together and he teaches me theory and everything. If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't still be playing, or I wouldn't care half as much as I do now. I owe my life's ambission and my most prized attribute to that man, and I could never repay him.

tedh1951

Patric,

DON'T WAIT FOR THE PUSH (sorry, I'm shouting) - don't expect someone to push, otherwise you'll be in your 50's and the chance will be gone - search, take a chance, make music, be happy.

Smithi20

Andrew, hi! I was very touched by your story and especially the story of your pupil. This kind of encouragement needs to keep moving! Unfortunately, I was never encouraged this way.. but I must admit to huge amounts of natural ability and dogmatism, even at a young age! I used to argue with my trumpet teacher, and then piss him off by sight reading next week´s Arban study! I´m happy with my playing now, but never felt that thare was someone who was generous enough to accept my potential, and for all that have, it´s a blessing! For all that don´t, and there are lots of us out there, stick with it, if it´s somethingt you love and enjoy! The mere fact that you are conversing on TM tells me that you have been bitten by the bug, the obsession, the enjoyment, so go for it!

gglassmeyer

I had largely followed my older brother's footsteps into marching band in high school. I chose the trumpet because I loved hearing Doc on the NBC Tonight Show.
I began playing the summer before high school began, but it was a rocky start. The normal instructor who taught lessons at the High School was very ill and his return was in question. No one wanted to replace him since he was an awesome teacher (evidenced by the quality playing of the upperclassmen).
The school's band director happened to be a trumpet player and he gave me instruction until the other teacher was well enough to attempt a return. This didn't last long before he gave up teaching for good and ultimately passed away from his illness. I can't accurately spell his last name but his name was Michael Denovcheck (spelling phonetically). I think he played with the Cincinnati symphony from the time he was like 18 years old until he became ill.
Anyway the school went through a few teachers that didn't work out for various reasons and then things really changed for me.
Between junior and senior year I had my braces removed and for the first time trumpet playing was actually easy. That event coincided with the school hiring Dick Brown as their instructor. He was the stereotypically hipster jazz musician with the cool hat hip jive cat lingo and the gravelly smoking voice.
I really enjoyed his lessons, he gave a ton of feedback. If you played something with a bit of style, he'd laugh out loud and say something like "man you laid that down like <insert jazz musician's name I'd never heard of here>"
My lessons changed over that year from strictly playing out of the Rubanks books to adding Rythyms Complete, Herring Etudes, sight reading whatever he had laying around that he wanted to torture me with, and he'd assign a popular tune and the key I'd need to know it in by the next week.

I progressed more that year than the previous 3 due to him and my newfound enthusiasm for playing.

Toward the end of the year, Dick began a search for a new horn and I got to try out a bunch of sweet new Bachs, Schilkes, Benges etc. After his selection he sold me his old Yamaha for about $200. I still run into him on occasion and I regularly play on that Yamaha to this day (though I do have a new Vintage One that's used mainly).
And on occasion I will "lay it down like <insert obscure jazz musician name>"
I think he plays frequently at the casinos in Southeastern Indiana and teaches at our local music store, Buddy Rogers.