I came to Michigan green as grass from a very small town (2,000) in an agricultural area of Ohio. I was a good student—valedictorian—but who wasn’t? I was in awe of the University from the get go and in great fear of failure. I found, however, a nurturing level of learning that I had never experienced even in the smallness of my pre-college environment. Michigan became to me a goal which was difficult but attainable. I worked hard and it paid off with a BBA with distinction and law review. Ann Arbor still holds a very special place in my life and my memories. It is to me a cherished time.

I am heart broken. There are not many more words I could find to express what I feel right now. I am away from Ann Arbor, a place I fell in love with as an undergraduate student. It has been six months since I graduated and the word, ‘nostalgia’ has never made more sense to me. I ask myself from time to time, ‘why do I miss Ann Arbor so much?’ As simple as the question may seem, it is difficult to pinpoint the exact reason why I miss the University so much. The reasons always seem to change, and right now I am feeling hungry and I dearly miss the food I ate at Ann Arbor. I loved the the pastas at Za’s, the chicken burritos at Pancheros, the “Italian Nightclub” at JimmyJohns, the pho at Saigon Garden, the pad thai at No Thai, all of the PotBelly sandwiches, and even the dormitory food at West Quad. Food for thought?

Reprinted from the U-M Band Alumni Newsletter

THE FORGOTTEN BAND TOUR

Most U-M Band alums know about the wonderful tours that have been taken by our Symphony Band and Wind Ensemble through the years, but few know about the 1965 U of M Jazz Band Tour. One reason for its low exposure may well be that it only included 19 students and a single faculty member. Another reason is that, until then, the Jazz Band was not even considered part of the Music School – no classes or credits granted. Yet, importantly, this was a groundbreaking event furthering the acceptance and eventual inclusion of jazz into the music curriculum.

It is difficult to find any written history of student-led jazz bands on campus prior to 1961 though there may have been some groups – especially jazz combos. (And surely jazz music was facing an up-hill battle against those who considered it “music of the devil.”)

In the winter of 1961 Oklahoma trombonist/arranger Bruce Fisher arrived on campus as a freshman in the Music School and organized a 17-piece jazz big band. Finding it impossible to obtain rehearsal space on campus, Fisher was forced to rent a room at the local YMCA for the band’s weekly rehearsals. At the suggestion of faculty member Jerry Bilik (Fisher’s mentor at the time), Bruce asked Dr. Revelli to be the Jazz Band’s faculty adviser so that the U of M Student Government might officially recognize it and finally have access to “free” campus rehearsal facilities. Dr. Revelli was reluctant at first but after issuing some warnings regarding the “proven dangers of jazz music in society” he consented. Now the band was able to rehearse and perform annual concerts on campus though never in a School of Music building. It remained student-run until the early 70s when Carl Alexis became the very first faculty conductor, and “Jazz Band” officially appeared in the course catalog.

In March of 1963 we U of M Jazz Band members chipped in enough money to rent a bus to take us to the Notre Dame Collegiate Jazz Festival in South Bend, Indiana. We were the only band there not accompanied by a faculty member. Nonetheless, we were received warmly and the band’s pianist Mike Lang won the “outstanding instrumentalist award” just as U of M alum Bob James had done with his trio the previous year. Both men went on to extremely successful careers in the world of jazz. (Set aside a lot of time if you wish to google their accomplishments. On second thought, set aside a lot of time if you google many former U of M Jazz Band members from ALL eras!) Representatives from the US State Department who attended the festival were impressed with our performance and called Dr. Revelli a few months later with an offer to send the Jazz Band on a Cultural Presentation Tour to Central America, South America, and the Caribbean. This was during the height of the Cold War, a time when the relationship between the USSR and USA was extremely contentious. We were to be young ambassadors spreading the good will of the US via America’s indigenous art form, jazz, throughout an area of the world in which Communism was rapidly gaining a foothold. The invitation was accepted for what was to be a great honor indeed for those of us directly involved, as well as the University of Michigan.

At that point Dr. Revelli was quite supportive of our preparations and saw that we got some needed equipment. He even posed with us for some very flattering publicity shots. The first official School of Music-sponsored performance of the U of M Jazz Band occurred when we were granted an appearance at the 1964 Band-O-Rama Concert. Shortly before the start of the tour, the band was featured in its first ever full School of Music-sanctioned concert, which was held at Rackham Auditorium.

Prior to the Jazz Band’s tour departure, many of the band parents asked the US State Department representatives as to the extent of anti-American feelings so seemingly prevalent in the countries to be visited. Was our personal safety to be an issue? Everyone was assured that “Uncle Sam has his finger on the pulse of Latin American politics.”

The Jazz Band left Ann Arbor on January 23rd and returned almost 3 and a half months later on May 2nd. During this period we performed more than 100 concerts in 46 cities in 15 countries including Guatemala, British Honduras, Honduras, Nicaragua, Panama, Ecuador, Bolivia, Paraguay, Surinam, British Guiana, Venezuela, Curacao, Trinidad and Tobago, Dominican Republic, and Jamaica. The Jazz Band was made up of students from several different departments within the University. Approximately 10 students were members of the Symphony Band and two had also gone on the 1961 Russian Tour. Our faculty adviser was Richard Crawford who also served as the MC for all of the concerts. On one occasion, he skillfully substituted for the tenor sax player who had been hit with “yet another bout of Montezuma’s Revenge.”

Many of the places where we performed were far from glamorous, as our stated mission was to foster better relations with those people less familiar with “real” Americans. We were often sent to the interior of the country and entertained in the public squares, churches and schools of small cities and towns. On more than one occasion our minimal PA system temporarily blew out the electricity for a whole village, which, by the way, may have been welcome relief to a couple of the wide-eyed listeners who had never experienced the sonic power of a big jazz band.

In the larger cities, we did have several more formal performances including those in theaters and radio- television studios. A few of those audiences were surprisingly sophisticated for the 1960s. For example, we gave some concerts and clinics that were attended by several local musicians and “jazz club” members, and in Trinidad there was even an excellent jazz pianist who sat in with us.

Alas, there were also a few appearances where Communist sympathizers in the audience heckled and bombarded us with paper airplanes inscribed with “CUBA SI, YANKEES NO!” However, the response was mostly wonderful, even though many in our audiences were completely new to jazz. As for any political influence we “ambassadors” had during these travels, there were several “hot spots” where the active politicos warmed to us as we interacted with them before and after our concerts.

Musically we covered a wide range of jazz styles including Stan Kenton, Woody Herman, Quincy Jones, Count Basie and Bill Holman among others. Our biggest “hits” overall may have been some of the more accessible numbers like Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood,” a small group Dixieland version of “When the Saints Go Marching In” and our vocal/big band version of the (oh so new) Beatles tune “A Hard Day’s Night.” We also occasionally wowed them with some jazzy or rock and roll versions of their own country’ hit songs or folk music, all quickly arranged by Bruce Fisher upon arrival in that particular country.

Toward the end of the tour there was a very dramatic and interesting change in our itinerary. Our last two scheduled countries were to be Haiti and Jamaica, however we were diverted instead to the Dominican Republic at the other end of the island of Hispaniola. We were told the US State Department had decided our presence in Haiti might be used for inappropriate political purposes by then Haitian dictator Papa Doc. We set up base in the capital city of Santo Domingo but after only three concerts there, on April 24th, the scheduled radio interview and concert for that evening were suddenly cancelled because of an ensuing revolution! So much for “the show must go on!” The rebels had taken over much of the city and as the fighting got close to our hotel we were hurriedly moved to another one just outside the city a mile or so up the road. The next morning we went to the roof to watch Dominican planes bomb and strafe the capital including our former hotel. Those next two days were full of consternation to say the least. The hotel staff totally abandoned and those of us with a stash of any food became very popular. (Food, in this case, meant candy bars from one of the last standing vending machines.) Our families at home were extremely worried as they followed the alarming news reports because all communication between us was impossible for three days.

At 5 am on April 27th the Jazz Band members, along with hundreds of other Americans including embassy staff, were told to wait on the lawn in front of the hotel in order to be evacuated by US Marines, who were ostensibly on the way. We were only allowed to bring as much as we could carry in one trip with two hands and of course this meant leaving a lot of our equipment behind. As the hours went by and the sun grew hotter in front of the hotel, a few of our guys took out their instruments and broke at least some of the tension by playing bossa novas while sitting on their suitcases. But then, as more warplanes zoomed overhead a rebel apparently attempted to hide in our midst and all kinds of shooting erupted around us. Everyone had heard the movie phrase “hit the dirt,” and now we instinctively knew exactly what it meant. Those of us who had suitcases and large instruments and who had been cursing their bulkiness, were now glad to be hiding behind them.
After about 45 minutes, the commotion subsided and everyone was elated to see US military trucks driving toward us. There was little hesitation in our boarding them for a welcomed ride to the seaport where, after yet another tension-filled 5 hours, we were finally evacuated by Navy ships overnight to a US base in Puerto Rico from which we belatedly flew to our last destination (Jamaica) the next day. An exhausted and emotionally drained band appeared in those final few concerts in Kingston and Montego Bay, but it sure was therapeutic to be playing music again!

A few days later the band let out an unrehearsed cheer the moment our plane touched down at Willow Run Airport in Ypsilanti, Mich. We were greeted by a host of reporters and TV cameras wanting the “real lowdown” regarding the Dominican revolution and our 100 days of Latin America experiences. What a ride!

It goes without saying that there is a special pride for every student who has been fortunate enough to have participated in any of the U of M Bands. And if you are one of those bandsmen lucky enough to have also gone on a major tour, well, here’s betting it was one of the biggest highlights of your life. It surely was for us! And to all you students now enrolled in a jazz-related class, PLEASE KEEP THAT FLAME BURNING. It has not always been lit.

Submitted by Lanny Austin and Jose Mallare

The University of Michigan Jazz Band
1965 US State Department South American Tour

Director: Bruce Fisher
Saxophones: Tom Asboth, Jack Kripl, Jose Mallare, Tom Berryman, Lanny Austin
Trumpets: Rob Roy McGregor, Ron Post, Larry Davidson, Doug Anderson
Trombones: Dennis Garrels, Bill Benninghoff, Jeff Joseph Tuba: Brent Herhold
Bass: John Miller
Piano: Dave Lewitz
Guitar: Carl Passal
Drums: Wilbur England, Geoff Smith
Faculty Representative: Richard Crawford

University of Michigan Jazz Band
U of M Television Center, December 1964

US State Department Tour Statistics:
Duration of Tour: 100 days, Jan. 23, 1965 to May 2, 1965
83 performances in theatres, plazas etc., with total attendance of 80,000
30 Radio/TV Broadcasts
Total audience reached estimated at 2.2 million
Travel: Air: 20,095 miles
Travel Time: 42 days by air, 500 miles by sea (1 day), 1,000 miles by bus (16 days).
Total Miles Traveled: 21,595 miles

I came to Ann Arbor from Bridgeport, CT in September 1942 with $300 I had saved after high school for my college education. I lived at Michigan Cooperative House, then at 335 E. Ann St, where room and board was $4 a week and we had to work at the co-op 8 hours a week. My co-op job was dinner prep on Wednesdays, when the menu was always meatloaf. Because of WW II, women outnumbered men on campus. I was drafted after completing my second semester in May 1943 and served in the U.S. Army 78th Infantry Division as a private first class and was honorably discharged in March 1946. I returned to Ann Arbor and Michigan Cooperative House in September 1946 (Mich House moved to 315 N. State St. in 1947) and completed my studies in May 1949. The professors I remember most fondly were A. K. Stevens, professor of English and Phil Diamond, a professor of German. A. K. Stevens was a great friend of student co-ops and loaned money to the Inter-Cooperative Council which enabled us to buy the house at 816 S. Forest Ave. which was named after him and which was unfortunately destroyed by fire a few years ago. My co-op job when I returned to campus from my Army service was hauling trash to the then city dump on Pontiac Trail. I was elected president of the Inter-Cooperative Council around 1948—my campaign slogan was “From trash hauler to president.” My co-op experience had without doubt the most formative and positive impact on my future and the friendships I formed in coops have survived for over 60 years (I am 85 years old). My wife, Lorraine, I met when she lived at Stevens Co-op House; we were married for 51 1/2 years. She died in March 2002.
Undergraduate student

• Sept. 1942 to May 1943 and
• Sept. 1946 to May 1949
• Graduated May 1949 B.A. in Psychology
• June 1943 to March 1946 drafted into US Army

The Village Bell, The Pretzel Bell, The RFD Boys. These were the only things that got me through feeding computer cards at the computer center for my thesis. What joyful and spirited post football times.

My two favorite instructors were Professor Hornback—Short Story and Novel—and Professor Jenson—Survey of Western Plays. It was so good to be instructed by those who were world’s foremost authorities in their fields.

Two icons I remember from Michigan; Dick Kimble and Barbour Gymnasium.

Dick Kimble, a world famous Olympic Diving Coach, also taught senior lifesaving in the 1970s. I remember the first day of class where he stated that anyone who could imitate the dive he was going to do, he would immediately give an “A” to and they would not need to attend another day of class for the semester with him. He “raised some eyebrows among us” and all “eyes” were fixed on him. He proceeded to bounce on the diving board, do a full back flip landing on the board, and then bouncing off the board again into a 1 and 1/2 front flip into the water hardly making a waive. Obviously, he had no takers and we all applauded him greatly. (No one reported him for this since we all inwardly agreed that for someone to be able to do that dive, one would have to know diving, swimming, and life saving and truly would not need the course work.) From that moment on we all listened well whenever he motioned to speak to us.I have always considered it to have been a privilege to have witnessed this and to have been one of his students.

Barbour Gymnasium (For slideshow click here): it was a sad day for me when this original building (kiddie corner from the Natural History Museum) was torn down. The final classes were taught and the buildings (Waterman and Barbour) were locked in December 1975. I had a double major of physical education and (just before it became part of the School of Music) dance. There were always struggles to share the building; physical education had the first floor and dance the second floor and both felt that the lounge/study area in the basement was for them exclusively. The physical education classes would finish early, thus they would lock the doors. All the girls knew to be upstairs on time since no one upstairs could hear you pounding on the doors. (It was a beautiful old building filled with wood floors, wood railings, 20 foot ceilings, awing 10-15 foot drafty windows, and pillars that were smaller in diameter than those in front of Angell Hall outside the building going up to the second floor windows.) Well, being a lightweight wrestler and male dancer made me a unique person for this. I never worried about being late. I would scale up the 30 foot pillars and swing in the window, more than a few times scaring the unsuspecting women dancers. It was never my goal to scare them, that was just an added bonus. In my defense, however, I did marry one of them the next year. We are still blessed to be married, 33 years later, but we still miss Barbour Gymnasium and treasure its memory greatly.

As I suspect is true for so many of us, my undergraduate years (1979-1984) were simply the best years of my life. When I take my two kids to the campus area and try to explain to them what was so wonderful about those years, I find it difficult to put into words and even more difficult to describe tradition. The tradition that students become instantly part of and the tradition that came before. I was attempting to describe the Michigan Union and the Michigan League. My son failed to appreciate my regret that the League cafeteria had closed. What was so special about a cafeteria? “Well,” I told them, “Back then, it was a place where you could get something to eat.” Son and daughter both looking at me blankly now. I forge ahead: “We didn’t have a fast food franchise every 10 feet… and there was a lot of tradition involved in the few places outside the dorm, where you could gather with friends and have a meal.”

Even more blank expressions when I tried to tell them about Drake’s…

While a Freshman student at the U. of M. in 1952, I lived at Stockwell Hall. The sound of a trumpet was heard at a men’s dorm (maybe South Quad) played by Benton Harbor, Mi. student, Art Benford, and thus begun the famous panty
raid. The guys raced to Stockwell Hall and ran through hallways claiming they were there to steal our panties.
It was such excitement, but not many thefts occurred!