In 1965, Sun was hired to entertain at all of the New York Jets home games. Rather than schedule regular marching rehearsals, we used to meet at the Shea Stadium parking lot and play a little touch football and review the show from the past year. (The original plan had been for us to offer fans a different show each halftime, but you know that didn't work, and the next alternative was to change the production number or the exit, but that didn't work out, so we did the same show time after time. At one game, the fans in the end zone were chanting, “Play something else…”)
The Shea people even gave us ugly green pants to wear and introduced us as the “Jetstars.” But you can't fool New Yorkers, as soon as we started to play “Quintet” from West Side Story, they started to boo! Can't really blame them, the Jets were awful and we were usually “half in the bag” by halftime. (Love those dollar beers.) Plus, there weren't all that many members who wanted to go outside in the middle of December and blow a bugle, so we weren't particularly entertaining.
There was some levity, like the time when I stepped onto the goal/starting line and fell flat on my butt in that magnificent Shea Stadium mud. The mud left a huge brown stain on the seat of my pants and gave the folks in the end zone a chuckle. That was nothing compared to the laughter it generated from the horn line when I went out to play a solo! I can tell you this, it is hard to play high notes when your posterior is partially frozen and you are trying not to laugh. That was a tough winter!
Well, back to the parking lot. As you can guess, those practices weren't particularly intense. The touch football games were, but there was a certain lighthearted approach to preparing for the Jets' games. In those days there wasn't much in the way of quartermaster support particularly when it came to flag poles. The music guys carried their own instruments but the flag carriers usually relied on one or two guys to make sure that the poles and flags got to practice. (Truck? What truck? This is 1965!)
One particular afternoon, the corps was working and the flags hadn't arrived. No one thought much of it until right in the middle of the Color Pre (do corps still do those?) Mervin Hurd came marching forward, his head up, his back straight, his belly swaying to the beat of, “The Lord's Prayer,” from the movie, “King of Kings,” clutching in his huge hands a freshly uprooted ten foot tall sapling! The trees had been planted on the borders of the parking lot to give the place a country look, and Mervin, ever the perfectionist couldn't stand the thought of just going through the motions. He needed his flag or at least a reasonable facsimile.
I think that was one of the very few times I've ever seen John Sasso - speechless!!
In 1960 or ’61, the corps did a show with a “Roaring Twenties” theme. I don’t remember all the tunes but “Varsity Drag” went over well as did the exit to “Toot, Toot, Tootsie.” (I may be wrong but I think this was the first time the corps closed with “The World is Waiting for a Sunrise”).
The highlight of the show was the concert of “The Charleston” complete with Jack Hernandez doing a classic version of the famous dance. These were the days when Sun was a part of the Northeast Circuit and some of the New England towns that held shows had some odd “Blue Laws”, and depending on where they were and whether or not the “Blue Laws” were in effect, Jack had to modify or completely delete his dance.
Jack tells the story that his reputation had preceded him and that Sun’s Director had been warned by the sponsor of their next show not to let him perform. Well, you know the Sunrisers. Jack was determined to show off his fancy footwork but as the corps formed upon the ready line, someone noticed that there were two local policemen standing behind the judge’s desk ready to make an arrest. Guess who didn’t do a “Charleston” that day?
So, from that day forward Jack Hernandez and his Charleston were considered “Banned in Boston” and I don’t think he’s ever lived that down (You had to live in the 60’s to appreciate/believe that nonsense).
In 1969 we had a colorguard problem. I don’t remember the details, but for some reason most of the guys in the guard decided to spend the summer doing something else. Undaunted, Colorguard Captain Gene Bennett reorganized his men and put together an American Flag section of 5 or 6 people and worked them into the drill.
He restaged their drill in such a way that at the climax of every production the AFS was center stage. The crowd loved it! (Given the turmoil of the times I guess that the Silent Majority thought we were making some sort of political statement). So did the GE M and M judge. He gave Sun’s guard the Best Color Guard Trophy! We loved it! But the judge was less than pleased when every marching instructor chewed on him at the post contest meeting. Their question: “What the hell were you looking at?” I don’t remember what he said.
I’m sure that everyone knows that in 1969 was the year Sun introduced women into senior competitive drum corps. We were very lucky. Those girls were so talented. They really worked hard to learn the show on such short notice. It was a tremendous feat. Those young women achieved something that is unsurpassed in drum corps history. Unfortunately, Baltimore wasn’t the best place for their debut.
Mother Nature, the contest organizer, and Goldman Brothers of Hicksville didn’t do much to make them feel comfortable. First of all, the temperature was in the 90’s and humid as only Baltimore can be. This was the first time that the girls had been involved in an all day practice in that kind of heat and were really suffering. I vividly remember Eileen Duerbeck, her long blond hair plastered to her head and her angelic face beet red and glistening with sweat. They were really suffering, but uncomplaining. Mercifully, drill rehearsal ended and we headed for the famous ice cold showers. That’s when we found out that the contest committee hadn’t made arrangements for the girls. Al Beck finally got a place where the girls could relax, but no showers (Some of us volunteered to sneak the girls into our locker rooms to use our showers but we didn’t have any takers).
Fortunately, a cold front moved in just before contest time and brought the temperature down to a reasonable level. Unfortunately, it also brought monsoon like rains. So our ladies debut would be an exhibition instead of a contest.
Under the best conditions, Baltimore Municipal Stadium is a nightmare to march in. There isn’t a right angle or line parallel to the contest field anywhere to be seen and some moron had taken the cones that mark the front sideline. Combine this with fatigue, rain, and nerves and you have a wonderful opportunity to make yourself really look bad! No problem, we’re the Sunrisers, we don’t need no stinking sidelines and the rain will make up for the showers we didn’t get.
Have you ever stood on the base paths of a major league ball park in the rain in white bucks? Well, you can’t. That lousy clay infield gets as slippery as ice. Just standing at attention is an adventure. Your heels immediately try to go to parade rest (now I know why baseball players wear spikes). Fortunately, some kind soul with the contest committee noticed our plight and had us move onto the outfield grass. Better footing, but now we were so far from the chalk sidelines that we had no idea as to what our reference points were. No problem, we’re the Sunrisers and don’t march that well anyway, so if we have some problems no one will notice.
And now, that special moment, “And now ladies and gentlemen the Long Island Sunrisers proudly present to you their show for 1969 and an innovation to Senior Drum and Bugle Corps – their brand new all-male colorguard.” What??? What was he looking at? I can’t believe that clown didn’t see the short skirts and black boots! What a knucklehead! Well, if the girls were nervous, now they were mad! Let’s go gang.
Off the line Parade Rest! Mark Time March!
To say the least we roared, we wailed and the audience went wild. They loved the show and the girls looked great. And then it happened.
Al the while the girls had been learning the drill, Dave King had been doing Yeoman’s work helping them with drill cues and marking pick points. Well, for some reason Dave chose to move off a main pick point at the beginning of “The Joker.” In his defense I will say it was reported that he looked at the girl and pointed to the spot before he left to help with a developing drill problem caused by the crazy angles in the stadium. Unfortunately, she didn’t see him point and as she had done dozens of times at practice, she followed him…all by herself. Out into no-man’s land between the corps and the crowd.
I didn’t see it, but I did hear some wailing, “Roz, where are you going?” Fortunately, the rest of us knew where to stop, so there was no harm done. Just the creation of another Sunriser legend!
The final indignity was delivered by the uniforms we bought locally. The beautiful off-white military jackets that the guard wore had a huge blue fleur-de-lis on the chest. It was only when the girls started taking off their sodden uniforms that we learned that the fleur-de-lis was not colorfast. Most of the dye had run all over the front of the new jackets, but a few of the ladies had tee shirts with the special Sunrisers symbol on them. Thank you Goldman Brothers.
The first female color guard not only marched well but some of them made great wives for Sunrisers. John Oliveri married Linder Smith (yes, that’s spelled correctly), Joe Verlezza married Sharon Smith, John Griffin married Joan Nash, Cliff Diable married Judy DeGabriele, Jim Carney married Pat Hebo, Al (Doodah) married Jackie, and I married Laurel Knoebel!
Bob “Murph” Murphy, Solo Soprano, 1964 to 1971
