In 1982, I was in 10th grade at Winter Park High School. Back then, high school in Florida started with 10th grade. I played flute and piccolo in the band.
The annual district solo and ensemble music contest was a big deal, and I had experienced that scene for two years in junior high. In 10th grade at the district contest, I played a flute solo, piano solo, did piano accompaniments for fellow students, and played in a flute trio. The hope was to do well enough that we could go on to the state competition.
With duets or trios, part of the requirement was to bring a copy of the full score for the judge. Our trio didn’t have a full score. It was not available in our band’s music library.
Our band director had told us not to worry about it because we couldn’t provide what we didn’t have. The day before the competition, our trio decided we could not accept that solution. That night, when we should have been resting, we stayed up and hand wrote the score.
The next day, we showed up to play our trio piece. We gave the judge our handwritten score with our apologies. And then we nailed the trio.
We all knew it sounded amazing, better than we had ever played it before. Those practice sessions together had paid off. We waited for the judge’s assessment of our performance.
Invitation to Europe
Our judge told us we had outperformed most of the groups he had listened to that day. He said our musicality was superior. But he was most impressed by our handwritten score. He commended us on a job well done and said, “I am amazed you all wrote out this score by hand.”
He then told us he was the director of the American Concert Band of the South that would be traveling to Europe that summer. Right then and there, he extended to us an invitation to join that group. He said our trio performance was our audition.
I was excited at just the thought of traveling through Europe while playing in a band. When the paperwork arrived in the mail—no Internet back then—I was even more ecstatic. We would be playing at a German castle and in a Parisian park, and staying with a family in the Netherlands. This was a dream come true.
My mom was in total agreement with my going on that summer trip. No one else from my school ended up going, but we learned that a flute player from a nearby school would participate. I got to meet her ahead of time, and her parents agreed to let me ride with them to our kickoff location when it came time to leave. She and I would be roommates on the trip.
Preparation in Valdosta
A few months in advance, we received the music we needed to learn for the trip. We were expected to know the music inside and out before arrival in Valdosta, Georgia, at the university campus where we would rehearse together a few days before heading to Europe. Those few days would be our only group rehearsals, so it was vital we all know our parts ahead of time.
We also had to record and send in a tape for our section chair placement. This was in the days of old technology, which means I recorded on my 1972 cassette player and chose to record in the bathroom for the best acoustics. I sent the cassette through the mail.
When we arrived in Valdosta, I learned I had been placed in first chair. I wouldn’t last in that position through the first day, however. While I knew I had been accurately placed based on my recording, there’s more to first chair than playing notes on a page.
First chair has to play solos and duets with other instruments. I did not have that type of performance experience, solo expression, or ear for blending with another instrument in a duet. The second-chair player had all that. Our director told me he would have to bump me down to second chair.
However, he made me a great offer in the process. I had brought my piccolo, just in case. I loved playing the piccolo. Although the director hadn’t planned on a piccolo part, he told me I could have the privilege of playing piccolo on all the national anthems. Say no more. I was up for it!
Our music included the national anthems of each country we would visit—West Germany (a separate country back then), Switzerland, France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. We also played two pieces by Michel Legrand and “America, the Beautiful.” One of the band members was also a solo singer, so she sang with us on “America, the Beautiful.” I don’t remember what else our repertoire included, but we worked really hard those days in Valdosta. When we got to Europe, we would have no more rehearsals, just performances.
Our group was a mix of high school and college students, along with adult chaperones, some of whom played in the band with us. When we weren’t in the rehearsal room, we walked around the Valdosta State campus, enjoying ice cream in the summer heat, and bonding with each other the best we could. By the time we left for Europe, we knew each other better and found our mini groups that we would hang out with most.
I have to say, though, in the days ahead, we would often meet up and chat as a full group along our journey together. I really felt close to almost every person in the band. Maybe it’s something about being together in a foreign country that brings people closer. I also believe it was our common love of music that bonded us. And we all felt incredibly honored to represent our country and our families and schools back home on that trip.
Concert in a Heidelberg Castle
I had traveled around the United Kingdom with my parents in 1977, when I was in fifth grade. But I had never seen any other parts of Europe until this trip in the summer of 1982. When we arrived in Frankfurt, West Germany, and left the airport by bus, the Autobahn (German highway) looked exactly like the interstate back home. I don’t know why I expected everything to look different, but I was surprised at how much it looked the same. If the signs weren’t in German, I would have thought we were back in the States.
We were introduced to our tour guide, a young British man who quickly fell in love with our college solo singer. They were a sweet couple. He would stay with us through our entire European trip.
Our first stop was Heidelberg, West Germany, just north of the Black Forest region. We played our first concert in a castle. Then toured the sights and saw incredibly beautiful landscapes.
We stayed at a quaint mom-and-pop inn nestled in the foothills. I immediately had a crush on the owners’ son, who was a few years my senior. He was our waiter at the inn’s cafe, and he had the cutest smile.
Allow me a momentary side trip from my 1982 story. I ended up in a penpal relationship with that Heidelberg boy. For the next five years, he wrote me letters in German, sent through the mail; no email back then. I had to find someone who could translate. He was the reason I learned German when I got to college.
We continued to write each other, with my letters written in my beginner’s German, until my senior year in college when I studied in Poland. We met up in West Berlin and discovered we had very different values. He told me I should leave school and stay at home to serve a husband, like his mom did. Nothing wrong with his mom’s life choices, but they weren’t mine.
We got into a disagreement in a Burger King restaurant in West Berlin, with his arguing in broken English and my arguing in broken German, in our effort for each other to really hear. We threw fries at each other as we tried to make our points. It probably looked rather comical, although we were not laughing. We said a calmer goodbye the next day, wished each other well, and never wrote each other again.
Swiss Chocolate and Alpine Songs
Back to the summer of 1982, after our stop in Heidelberg, we drove on to Switzerland, one of the most beautiful countries I’ve ever seen. We stayed in Neuchatel, in a chalet on a wildflower-covered hillside just outside of town. The screenless window was almost as big as the wall. It had a wooden frame we could push wide open to enjoy the tranquil outdoors. It was amazing a bird or something larger didn’t come in!
I was 16 at the time and shocked to realize there was no drinking age limit, or at least didn’t appear to be, in Europe. I didn’t choose to try those alcoholic beverages. That world still seemed weird to me. But I was able to hang out in the hotel bar with the older kids and enjoy a soda in a glass that said “Trink Coca-Cola.”
I’ll never forget when a Swiss college-age guy walked up to me in that bar and started talking in his best English. He was incredibly handsome and had a great personality. He wanted me to go back with him to his village and get married. He lived near the Italian border and tended goats.
That all sounds very romantic, but alas, I stayed with our group and didn’t run off to find my Swiss destiny with the goatherd. And yes, at times I have wondered how my life might have turned out.
After our concert, we traveled to a town in the Swiss Alps to enjoy a day off. We were given a choice to shop in the village or ride a train up the mountain. I chose the train and was thrilled with the beautiful alpine scenery. I could hear the music to “Climb Every Mountain” ringing through my mind. I discovered snowy mountaintops and Swiss chocolate go well together. I’ve been a fan of dark chocolate ever since.
Parisian Tunes
Our next stop was Beaune, France, where we gave another concert. Beaune was a quaint medieval village nestled in green countryside. I had just finished my first year of French language classes at school and tried out a few words. But I could tell people were humoring me and had no clue what I was trying to say.
From Beaune, we traveled to Paris. Everyone was excited about our Paris concert. What musician doesn’t love the idea of playing in a Parisian park? But we never got to give our performance.
On the way to the park, our bus went down a narrow street. A car was parked in the middle of the street with no owner in sight. The men got out of our bus and were literally able to pick up the car and move it to the sidewalk. But the delay was so great, we arrived at the park too late. My memory of the park is one of our trumpet players sitting in a pavilion, playing jazz music while we regrouped.
We had an evening free in Paris. You’d think we would have hit every tourist site. Instead, we were all so thirsty and couldn’t find bottled water anywhere. Bottled water was not all that common back then like it is today. And we were advised not to drink the tap water overseas.
Our mini group, which now included our two British bus drivers, searched every shop in the neighborhood and finally found some tall bottles of water. We went back to the cafe in our hotel, ordered some sweets, and had a water party. It was so much fun, with so much laughter, that it stands out as a highlight of our trip to Paris.
The next two days were big tour days to see the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre, and Montmartre. We ended our first tour day with an evening boat ride on the Seine River.
Facts of Life and Moulin Rouge
At one point, we ran into the girls from the TV show, The Facts of Life. They were filming their summer-in-France movie. The Facts of Life was one of my favorite shows, so I was excited to see them filming, and I loved the extra special memories when I later watched their movie. I felt like that movie would always remind me of our amazing summer trip.
On our last night in Paris, we went to a show at the Moulin Rouge. It wasn’t part of the trip package, so it cost an extra $40. My mom had given me money for souvenirs and snacks. I didn’t know how she’d feel about my blowing all that money on a show, and we didn’t have cell phones back then where I could have texted her. But she was always supportive of my getting in on cultural experiences, so it seemed like she might have said yes if I could have talked to her.
Everyone in the group was going except one girl who was on the fence like I was. She and I talked it through. We decided we shouldn’t miss the moment, and we would dive in together. So, I handed over my $40 and enjoyed a big Parisian night on the town. My mom later told me she was glad I jumped in on it.
The Facts of Life girls were also visiting the Moulin Rouge at a center-stage table. They looked overwhelmed. My heart went out to them. It was hard enough to be in a foreign country without having a spotlight on you everywhere you went. I was thankful we could just blend into the crowd and enjoy our evening.
Brugge Bridges and Lace
The next day we headed to Brugge (Bruges), Belgium, a beautiful town with cobblestone streets and charming canals. We stayed at a no-frills hotel run by a Catholic mission. Our bus leaked oil in front of the hotel, and we were fined. The cobblestones were so ancient and such a part of the town’s history that anyone who damaged them had to pay a fine. The town took that very seriously.
We started our visit by giving a concert. This far into the trip, we had performed so many times, in so many places, we felt like the music was part of us. We were no longer just playing notes. Now, we were connecting with the audience and with each other. I could sense the music was making a difference and encouraging people, bringing hope and cheer. I can barely remember the tunes we played, but I can still remember the feeling. The memory fills me with blessing to this day. The music was as much a cultural bridge as the picturesque walkways that crossed the canals.
Brugge is known for Belgian lace, and we toured a lace-making facility. I knew my mom liked lace and would enjoy a souvenir. She always loved to serve biscuits in a cloth biscuit server. I was delighted to find a handmade Belgian lace biscuit server for her. She ended up not using it much because she didn’t want to spoil it with grease. She displayed it in her china cabinet.
Our Beautiful Dutch Family
Our next and final stop on our tour was Rotterdam in the Netherlands. Here, we would be staying with local families affiliated with the symphony orchestra. My roommate and I stayed with a young couple and their baby girl. They spoke very little English, and we spoke no Dutch, but we got along well. They were very sweet and patient, and we were able to communicate because a lot of words sound similar between Dutch and English. When we couldn’t figure out a word, we consulted a dictionary.
My roommate had hurt her wrist. Thankfully, the Dutch father was a paramedic, so he was able to help her. He also helped me with my knee, which by then was swollen with all the uphill and downhill walking we did. Quite different from the flat terrain of Florida.
Unfortunately, my roommate’s wrist injury meant she couldn’t play the flute for our final concert. She cheered us from the audience. It was a beautiful concert with lots of tears because our time together was coming to an end. We still had a cruise down the Rhine awaiting us when we returned to West Germany, but Rotterdam was our last concert performance.
Blessings and Beyond
As I write these memories today, 43 years later, I am truly amazed at how much detail I can recall. Not only from each stop on our itinerary, but also the memory of emotional bonds we formed as a band, the privilege of blessing others with music, and the encouragement and hope we gave and received.
I believe that summer trip set the tone for all my travels in college and beyond, for the piano lessons I taught to encourage youngsters in our community, for my ongoing hobby of learning other languages, and for my love of people and adventure. I experienced a lot of life during those days in Europe, and I saw a lot of what’s possible when people help each other. I hope the young folks in my family will have many opportunities to enjoy beautiful vistas, lovely hearts, and moments of immense joy in whatever corners of our world they explore.
Exploring Generations 