Our world, so worn and weary/needs music, pure and strong,/to hush the jangle and  discords/of sorrow, pain, and wrong.

(Francis Ellen Watkins Harper)

 

On June 26, 1973,  203 members of the  A.L. Brown High School marching band left the familiarity  of their  provincial mill village in Kannapolis  to journey all the way to the Netherlands, to participate in the “Internationaal Muziek Festival” in  Amsterdam. I (along with my friendly cornet) was fortunate to be one of that number. 

This year marks the 50th anniversary of that storied 4,000 mile journey to Europe for an enthusiastic group that was then known locally as the “Big Green Machine.” Under the direction of our  distinguished band director Louis Bean, the marching band came home with two gold medals from the prestigious international competition. 

Our marching  band was no stranger to success. Apart from regularly  winning superior awards at band competitions in Bristol, Tennessee, we had also won a third-runner up trophy in the Greatest Bands in Dixie Parade at the Mardi Gras in New Orleans, in 1972. Those of us who  graduated  in 1973 also had the good fortune of receiving an extra graduation gift of an overseas trip, three weeks after we had received our diplomas. 

The experience  would prove to be life-changing, with 250 mill town folks from the unpretentious North Carolina piedmont boarding an airliner to cross the Atlantic so that we could march in parades in Holland, Germany, Belgium, and Luxembourg.  When we excitedly  deboarded our plane  at the Schiphol International Airport in Amsterdam on June 27, after an all night excursion, some of my friends told me that I looked like “all those people.”  It could have been my wavy blond hair, or the fact that I was tall and skinny,  but I did feel at home as soon as I stepped off the plane, as well as being very sleepy! 

The Brown troupe, which had traditionally been known as an upbeat, classy  show band, could trace its  proud heritage as far back as the mid 1940s, to  the old  Cannon High School, which had changed its name in 1952 upon  the completion of a new campus. Most band members had parents who had also played at Cannon so bloodlines were abundant, as well as expectations. 

As  young musicians, we  delighted our European audiences with classic American tunes such as “Step to the Rear,” “Wabash Cannonball,” and “Ain’t She Sweet.”  In our military-style,  dark green and white uniforms, we resembled   a small army.  In Holland, we were affectionately known  as the “Grote groene machine.” 

We unashamedly incorporated the “Star Bangled Banner” into our homespun show, which did not fail to evoke spirited applause from our gracious audiences. The thrill of playing our national anthem on foreign soil was a tear-filled, magical moment,  a true “epiphany,”  which just  also happened to be an “SAT” word some of us had encountered during our last year of high school. 

What would prove to be one of the most intriguing parts of the trip was spending nights with our host families who eagerly  filled our ears  with stories about their own countries.  They  asked us, in turn,  about America, and we attempted to oblige them. Ironically, they knew more about President Richard Nixon and Watergate, the embarrassing political scandal going on back home, than we did. My host family wanted to watch North Carolina Senator  Sam Ervin and the Watergate Hearings on their television nightly, where Senator Ervin “spoke” in another language as  his folksy mountain dialect had been voiced over with euphonic Dutch words , which I found entertaining as well. 

Not surprisingly, Cannon Mills helped to sponsor our trip, kind-heartedly  supplying us with one-of-a-kind, red, white and blue gift towels to present to our host families. To this day,   a number of students have continued to stay in touch with their host families. More than a few  have made visits back to the Netherlands to see them, and their Dutch families have come to the States as well. 

On June 26, 1973, we may have left these parts locally known  as the “Big Green Machine,” but when we returned home one week later on July 3, we were known internationally as the “Grote groene machine.” That one week abroad had shown  us not only how privileged we were to be called Americans but also how our music had helped  us to become  citizens of the world