Those Salmon Colored Lockers...

I found myself in a very familiar place this evening. I went to the final band concert with some friends from my graduating class and a homey feelings rushed into me. I was home, you may not call it much of one, but the amount of time and energy that I put in over the years in the Hershey High School music department is maybe a bit over the top. I loved that hallway that had the salmon colored lockers, the stands misplaced from the stage sprawled in the lobby of the department, the lovely greeting by the directors, the stick your shoes made in the band room from the years of spit still lingering on the floor, the smell of the old printer that had attempted to drive me crazy over four years of blood sweat and tears, and the sound of our orchestra director yelling at his 2nd violins through the vent that connected my world and his. It was all something that I wanted to keep all to myself. I never wanted to forget it and it was definitely a love hate relationship. I was the first to arrive and the last one to leave, it was a part of the job you could say, being the "librarian" for a man that was very unorganized, but well rehearsed, it was a job that was priceless to me in some strange way, but as I walked the familiar hallway for the hundredth time, it all came back to me. Everything fell into place, the sound of music people walking back from the dimmed stage, parents waiting in the lobby for their sons and daughters, this was my "track practice". I handed out the music at the beginning of the year to these kids, ran around like a nut finding misplaced scores in the middle of the week, hollered at students to not forget to bring their copies to the rehearsal the night before our concerts, and wiped their tears when they forgot it the next night, in hopes that I would quickly copy a new one and not tell the "man". I never did of course, he had to much to think about let alone worry about some dumb freshman who was lost at a first concert. No instead I made sure his bow tie was straight, the lint was removed from his tux, and a smile was on everyone's face. That was my job, and I loved every minute of it, even if I swore to God if that kid forgot his music again I was quitting for sure, but I was never really going anywhere. This hallway was my safe haven in high school, my friends, my enemies, my rivals, my world was in one hallway, you could even say my high school career took place here, in the High School Music Department. I'd come in a week early before school started, to make sure the music was ready to go, I'd split an Italian sub with my dear conductor, blast Wicked and Avenue Q, and had the time of my life. In the end, I got to have my name on a plack, a remembrance of me left in the school along side my sister's name, who had come before me. The job was mine years before I even knew it existed. I knew it was just a name on a plack and I knew as years past it would collect dust and only old alum and my conductors would know who I was and what I did, but it was still an honor. I had shed my fair share of tears and laughs in the filing room and none of it would be forgotten hopefully. But coming into that hallway once again brought back fond memories of a world I wasn't sad to have left. I walked past my old locker, my friend Val's was still there next to mine, with the words Fuck scratched out by some janitor. I can still remember how nervous I was as a freshman sitting by a junior, playing my cello in a symphony orchestra for the first time. I believe the piece was a collection of Phantom of the Opera songs, and the memory of the sound and the energy and the excitement still puts chills down my back. It opened my world to music wider than I had ever expected. I will never regret anything that happened in those hours spent in that hallway even if I was upset I didn't make first or second stand, I won't regret the time I spent out of class just talking to my favorite conductors, I won't regret the anger I had when I messed up my counties audition because people were there to tell me suck it up, its music. It taught me so much, music did. It uses your emotions, takes your anger, your sadness, your happiness and turns it into something more. Forms emotion into sound, into notes, into harmonies and melodies, that can bring a group of people together, that can move an audience to tears, that can help a student find peace in the busy day. Music has shown me what it is to truly love something, so I must thank the girls and boys, women and men who played for me tonight, who brought me back to the home I created for myself, to hide away from the other parts of high school. Hershey High School Music Department, you will always have a place in my heart and will be an escape for another student very much like myself. More tears will be wept after closing night of the musical, more laughs will be heard from the sarcasm shared between conductors, yelling will be vocalized from the teachers who teach us to remember how to play a triplet or sing that high E. The hallway will not change, but the students will change, and the alumni will grow older, but that hallway with the salmon colored lockers will see it all and music will be made.