Those of us in the Caney High School band, back in the 1950s and early ‘60s, experienced something that many fans and players never got to do … march from the old high school to the stadium on Friday nights. It was quite a memorable trek and the parade route became a special tradition of all who played in the bands of Evald Nordstorom, Al Estes, Bob Stanfield and Eston Berry. The band, always 50 to 70 strong, would form in front of the vo-ag building on Main Street, and head south to the corner then turn west on Fourth Avenue. The rumble of the drums bounced off the downtown buildings. As we turned south on Spring Street, a small crowd gathered in front of Baker’s Drug Store, then as soon as we cleared the turn, it was Red Baker’s cue to lock his front door and walk swiftly to the stadium where his family members had already gathered, and a son Mike was a stellar football player. A Caney police car led us, with the red light on top turning and casting such an exciting glow on the houses we passed. People stood on sidewalks to clap for us. A series of three beautiful Franks girls (Mary Ellen, Margaret and Martha) strutted in front of the band as drum majorettes, going from side to side and acknowledging those waving from porches. As we got close to the stadium, we could see people lining the top of the stone stadium, gazing at the sight that was approaching — dozens of musicians wearing white bucks and red and blue uniforms, high-steeping at a fast rate of marching. We would stop at the west gate to the stadium and wait for the PA announcer (Frank Ikerd in our case) who would give us the official introduction. The drum majorette’s baton would twirl, the whistle would tweet and we would head inside to the cheers of a packed stadium. We would turn left at the west goal post and head down mid-field, finally stopping as we stretched between the two 25-yard-lines. There, we played the Star Spangled Banner — a spine tinging experience in itself, then we pivoted to face the stadium, playing Stand Up and Cheer as we marched off the field. We then sat on the opposite side of the field to boost the team with our music, and perform marching drills at half-time. I fully realize that the boys who played football on that field have archives of their own, and their memories are special in their own way. But I wanted to share this special recollection of memories about an experience that never shall be repeated — marching from the old CHS campus to the stadium, along bricked streets, and feeling so proud of be a part of something so totally majestic.
Posted on: Sat, 27 Sep 2014 02:18:31 +0000
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