Pursuing Bliss in a Random Life is about finding the humor in everyday situations. It's the random moments of clarity in the middle of chaos. It's the reminders of what is truly important, of the things that make this life not just livable, but memorable. This is my search: not just to achieve, but to maintain happiness. Family, friends, faith, food, fun: Bliss.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Love, Loss, and Rolling On

My world got a little darker yesterday. Oh, who am I kidding - it got a lot darker. I lost someone who, though not a part of my every day life, is a part of the best parts of me. Someone I have thought of fondly at least once a week for 23 years. One of the best men I've ever known.

Dr. Ronnie Davis.

Mr. Davis, as I knew him, or "Big D" as my best friend and I christened him our freshman year, was our band director. You might think he's just a teacher, someone I saw for a couple of hours every day. Just a teacher? No. Dr. Davis was more than a teacher; he was a father. A mentor. A spiritual advisor. An encourager. A beast with a loud, rumbling voice. A giant of a man with a strong temper and incredible aim. He was able to fling a pair of drumsticks halfway across a football field and stick them in the ground at your feet. He could scare the bujeezus out of you one minute, then hug you and make you laugh the next. He believed in hard work and expected the best you could give, every minute. He refused to settle for less and because of it, he made everyone around him and under his direction a better person, a better musician, a better student, a better friend. He was all of these things, and more.

My marching band career began under another wonderful man, Mr. Ben Ferguson. In 8th grade, I learned the basics of a marching show, how to support my team, and I began to learn how to trust. Mr. Ferg would always have me laughing. He was kind, gentle, and supportive. He is still all of those things, and I count him as a life long friend.

Then came high school.

Oh my gosh, you can't imagine how overwhelming it was. Such a large group, so many older students, a big field, a big school. I remember sitting in woodwind sectional, looking around at the juniors and seniors and feeling so very small. I was a shy, self conscious girl from an abused home. Lonely, anxious, but excited. I had absolutely no idea of the journey I was starting.

I was flat out terrified of Big D - for about 1 day. By the end of my first day of band camp, I loved him devotedly. Basic block, drill downs, roll your toes, Rookie Day - it's all a big, wonderful blur. As many times as the low brass section rolled his truck in toilet paper, I never saw him get angry...but screw up in practice and "You're BEhind!" he would roar. His face would get red, he would yell, and we would run back and do it again and again. Halfway through learning drill, he pulled me out of line, switched me with another person, and made me learn all new drill as a line leader. I thought he was crazy, but he believed in my ability to learn it and learn it fast...and he was right. When he expected something, I managed not to let him down, even when I didn't believe in myself.

I have some memories that are crystal clear, that step out regularly in my dreams saying "Remember me? Wasn't I awesome?" I have others that are vague recollections, feelings, and impressions. I want to share three of these.

First: the night of our very first football game, my freshman year. We lined up on the sidelines, waiting to take the field. I was a mass of nerves, shaking in my atrocious black soled white band shoes. The stands were eerily quiet - and then a voice, louder than life, yelled "DO IT!" and the drum clicks sounded. My heart swelled so big with pride I thought I would explode. I couldn't contain the giant grin that sprung across my face, and I could see others with the same expression. I was calm, ready, and I will never, ever forget that feeling.

Second: my first band competition. Due to a flub of the drumsticks, half of the band started our second number a beat earlier than the other half. By the time we collected ourselves several measures in and got it together, my heart was in the aforementioned shoes. I'd been so excited, so sure we would rock. How could we face this catastrophe? After the performance, it felt like half of the girls were in tears. We were all in total despair. Dr. Davis moved among us, telling us not to worry, we did our best, we were still the best in his eyes. He made us feel whole again, took away the worst of our frustration and shame, and got us ready to face the wait in the stands. You can't imagine the total bliss when we ended up winning in spite of our error! I don't think my feet touched the ground that entire evening, or the next day. Big D had believed in us, and we did it! My first Grand Championship was my favorite of all time.

Lastly, my final night at PCHS. Unfortunately, I only got to be a member of the Pride of Paulding for 2 years before I was made to go to a new school. For weeks leading up to graduation, I cried  myself to sleep. That night, I clung to Dr. Davis and our assistant director Mrs. Webb. I didn't want to go. They both hugged me and told me it would be ok, but Dr. D put his arm around my shoulders and told me in no uncertain terms that he expected me to carry on the tradition of excellence at my new school. Someone had to teach the newbies how it was done. He encouraged me, urged me to take what I felt was a bad situation and use it to my advantage, and I took it to heart.

All of my best high school memories are tied up with the Pride of Paulding and Dr. Davis. Without knowing it, he taught me about pride, about teamwork, about strength, about friendship. By example he taught me about faith - faith in God by leading our prayer before every game, and faith in myself. He didn't know it, but he taught me that men could be honorable, strong, and trustworthy. When every other man I'd known, especially the one I lived with, had let me down, had intentionally hurt me, cowed me, belittled me, he gave me strength and purpose. He gave me belonging, and for that I will be forever grateful.

Big D, you touched so many lives, and so many people love you. I will never forget - as my classmate wrote what you taught us, "Pain is temporary, but the Pride is forever!"

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