With The Band: Memoirs of a Music Shop Owner

By Billy Cole

Two days are never the same in the life of Billy Cole, a music instrument repairman. Over the course of nearly 50 years in the music business, Billy has become a personal friend and respected repairman to some of the top musicians in the industry. Through his fine craftsmanship and attention to detail, his small music shop is a welcoming haven for musicians to stop by, to gather and be amongst others that share a common interest in music. He has become a friendly face for a musician on the road, year after year. Come with the band, as you're transported to sound stages, studios and shows that tell the story of just another day with the music technician. Musical emergencies come in the form of a young student anticipating the repair of their trumpet before their school concert to a backstage repair with thousands of fans waiting. Each memory has a story and takes readers on a musical adventure transcending age and background. Throughout the serendipitous twists and turns of life, Billy navigates it the best way he knows how, with faith and with his wife, his partner, his best friend. Together, they share the journey, forging an unconventional, yet traditional family lifestyle. With The Band chronicles the balancing act that comes with being a business owner, father and husband, and how to appreciate the extraordinary in an ordinary day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667860206

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For Mary Alice

With The Band

Memoirs of a Music Shop Owner

©2022 Billy Cole All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

print ISBN: 978-1-66786-019-0

ebook ISBN: 978-1-66786-020-6

Editing by Ken Drumm

This memoir is a truthful recollection of actual events in the author’s life. Some conversations have been recreated and/or supplemented. The names and details of some individuals have been changed to respect their privacy.

For information contact:

[e-mail]

http://www.coleswoodwind.com

Contents

PRELUDE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INTRODUCTION

Chapter 1 In The Beginning

Chapter 2 Starting Out

Chapter 3 Nick Brignola

Chapter 4 Emilio Lyons

Chapter 5 A New Shop

Chapter 6 907 19th Street

Chapter 7 Blue-Eyed Soul

Chapter 8 Angels

Chapter 9 Apprentices

Chapter 10 Professional Players

Chapter 11 Father Flanigan

Chapter 12 Frank Laidlaw

Chapter 13 Time to Pop the Top

Chapter 14 Garth Hudson

Chapter 15 Bobby Strickland

Chapter 16 Our Town TV

Chapter 17 Hilltop Plaza

Chapter 18 Al Gallodoro

Chapter 19 Rae Hak Son

Chapter 20 Seminars

Chapter 21 Backstage Family Time

Chapter 22 Starlite Music Theatre

Chapter 23 A Little Help from My Friends

Chapter 24 On Broadway

Chapter 25 Ricardo Morales

Chapter 26 Ian Anderson

Chapter 27 Chris Potter

Chapter 28 Jeff Coffin

Chapter 29 47 Phila Street

Chapter 30 Caravan of Thieves

Chapter 31 DMB at SPAC

Chapter 32 The Red Violin

Chapter 33 Yaddo and Visiting Artists

Chapter 34 Rock and Roll Trip

Chapter 35 Straubinger Flutes

Chapter 36 Garth’s Birthday Party

Chapter 37 Beggar’s Soup

Chapter 38 Chicago

Chapter 39 Summer of 2015

Chapter 40 BB King

Chapter 41 Chicago Returns to Saratoga

Chapter 42 Teaching How to Fish

Chapter 43 Caffè Lena’s Restoration

Chapter 44 Frank Serpico

Chapter 45 The Move Back to Phila Street

Chapter 46 Forty Years

Chapter 47 Karma or Coincidence

Chapter 48 Hope On a String

Chapter 49 Backstage with Mike Love and The Beach Boys

Chapter 50 The Charlotte

Chapter 51 Return to Haiti

Chapter 52 2018

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PRELUDE

When I was a young man on the road, I would usually look in the local telephone directory but under Music to see what I might see. That’s how I found R.D. Gilbert in Los Angeles, Ray Ojeida in San Francisco and William Brannen in Chicago. Therefore, in the late 1970’s when I was at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center with the New York City Ballet needing some work done on my clarinet, I took once again to the Yellow Pages and found a repair shop in Watervliet, a small city near Albany, New York, about a half hour away. Calling the listed number, I spoke to a gentleman who said he could help me. And that’s how I met Bill Cole.

On a side street off the Hudson River, I walked into a small, well appointed shop with a calm, pleasant young man sitting at the work bench. As we got acquainted and he put on my needed cork, I looked around. The shop was neat and orderly. All the merchandise was the best and most useful of its kind, from student level to professional grade as were the instruments laid out for sale. I spied a Buffet Albert System C Clarinet in beautiful condition. He told me that it had been found in a local attic and he’d restored it both as a challenge and as a showcase for his work. The wood was clean, the key work immaculate, the pads well seated and the joint corks trim. He’d even applied new gold leaf to the trademarks! As I played the horn, it demonstrated all the elastic expressively characteristic of the best Albert System clarinets and functioned beautifully; all the more remarkable considering that the serial number placed it as being from the turn of the last century! I decided that I’d like to buy it and we agreed on a price.

Back in those days, the NYCB Summer Season at SPAC was four weeks long, and since we performed in an outdoor amphitheater similar to Tanglewood during that whole time, things would inevitably go wrong with our instruments. Driving back up the Northway, I looked forward to spreading the word to my colleagues in the orchestra. I was confident that they would be pleased.

As the years passed Bill’s practice grew, as did his lovely family. He moved to a bigger shop (next to a Chinese restaurant where I would get a to go lunch while he worked on my horn) and I would make it a point to visit him every summer, often finding beautifully reconditioned instruments.

One day, he called me and said that it was time for him to move his business up to Saratoga proper. My family and I visited him during this off season time and found him on the second floor of a lovely old building overlooking Broadway. He looked at home and clearly had a well-deserved and thriving clientele of area students as well as top professionals such as Nick Brignola and Al Gallodoro.

A couple of years later, as he tells in his story, he moved around the corner to the ground floor of the historic Caffè Lena building-a well know folk music venue and community gathering spot dating back to the 1960’s.

It is so completely appropriate that he ended up there. His warmth, good nature, honesty and craftsmanship stand out in an increasingly hurried business world. He treats students, amateurs and professionals alike, welcoming them into his world of music. As you read, I’m sure that you will be drawn in by his story, inspired by his success, and as glad to know Bill as I am.

Gerhardt Koch

NYC 2019

FORWARD

Music Lives in this Memoir

By Bruce Piasecki

I first peered into the windows of Billy Cole’s repair shop in my hometown of Saratoga Springs, New York a long time ago. He had already began doing his magic of instrument repair for Ian Anderson, the world renown flutist, by then, serving both our main New York theatres from Manhattan to Albany to the musicians visiting in hordes the Saratoga Performing Arts Center at its prime. On every section of this book you can ask how did Billy meet so many famous musicians and friends? He has a quiet charisma and a solid reputation.

His funky shop is now attached to America’s oldest Folk Stage and Venue, Ca Caffè Lena. Do you know this place where Bob Dylan first played, a place of legends in the making?

Hear what Billy Cole did for Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull, and what the great musician did in thanks:

"In November of 2007, my second meeting with Ian Anderson would come eighteen years after my first. This happened when I was thinking what I could donate at that year’s Operation Santa Claus silent auction. My wife Mary Alice helped me compose a proper request that gained the attention of a woman in Jethro Tull’s media department. She forwarded my request to Ian, who responded:

Dear Bill. Happy to sign your flute for charity auction. I guess you would have to send it today to our show in Albany tonight or bring it in person…Actually, you might be the man I need as I had a problem last night half way through the show with the low C on my Muramatusu DS. I cannot see any obvious leak but a pad may not be seating properly. Do you have a special pen for signing the flute as Sharpies wear off pretty quickly? Best. Ian Anderson.

The rest gets even better, and more intriguing, as Bill rushes down to fix Ian’s immediate problem.

The Themes of Being Alert with a Sense of Lasting Gratitude

There are many passages in this book where Bill thanks his wife, some friends, or an almost random guardian angel. In my experience of the best memoirs, I find a sense of gratitude and a sense of fate mix with drama and suspense. This is an upbeat book, not another dark and down Memoir.

Billy Cole is alert to how good fortune is often more than earned. It descends, in a sense, if you are open to it. In rereading this book, I asked: "So how many people, more preoccupied by their urges and needs, would miss the wonder of what Billy Cole notices? That is what makes this memoir worth reading, and rereading. His alert ability to see what people, especially musicians, need to reach their audiences.

And there are several passages on guardian angels that propel the reader back into the famous reflections of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Freedom and Fate. I did not expect this when I first picked up this book, but it is embedded throughout. He is aware how forces superior to him have shaped his good fortune.

Writing books takes care and craftsmanship. Billy has never forgotten his original self. That feeling of being blessed is subtly buried in this book, without alarm, without pretense, without excess. In this book, look for insights into human creativity itself, note the bold strokes and sounds of human intuition, and the bold ups and downs of a creative life.

You do not have to be a master craftsman to enjoy this ride. It is a book worth reading, and I’ve found it a book worth rereading.

Ending the Book Offers You a Glidepath

My freshman year teacher, Dr. Ciraco Moron-Arroyo, a Spaniard at Cornell, taught me my first Advance Placement summer semester in Ithaca from the book by Desiderius Erasmus, In Praise of Folly. That is now a lifetime ago, now more than fifty years ago, yet I remember the musical tone of sportive seriousness in the voice of Erasmus, a writer, a scholar, and a humanist. Erasmus studied and taught in Paris, then moved to England in 1498, and by 1509, he left us a book for the ages: witty, full of narrative grace, and solid advice, without being overly pious or preachy. Many of the books I have written reach for such sportive seriousness, even on terrible topics like climate change, the search for environmental excellence in an age of greed and corruption. Yet in rereading Billy Cole’s book for this introduction, I took again Erasmus off the shelf and saw some strong parallels.

In his own humble way, Billy Cole achieves in his personal narrative, filled with wit and warmth, a glidepath for modern readers similar to what Erasmus did in his notorious book. I am not saying too much here, really. While Erasmus has proven one of the greatest European intellectuals, we remember Erasmus for his puns, his stories, his strong long asides. It is the same with Billy, where you not only meet his wife, legends like Ian Anderson, and the many characters that fill our hometown of Saratoga, but you also meet the essence of music, its immediate joys, and cadence. Without overstretching into a philosophy of abstractions, Cole concludes his life in a fashion as strong as he starts this book before you. Billy Cole has always given back, a generous soul.

Largely because of the New York City Ballet’s based woodwind players, my business expanded to include some of the best musicians on the East Coast. Think again Billy Cole. You’ve worked with some of the best musicians in the world, and your tale is tall not because of its exaggeration, but instead, like with Erasmus, because of its humanity and deep humility. Thanks for bringing all this to a new generation of readers.

Bruce Piasecki

Bio…

Bruce Piasecki is a New York Times bestseller author and business owner. His new career summary book is A New Way to Wealth: The Power of Doing More with Less Book Baby, 2022.

Please visit my podcast with Mia Funk on Caffe Lena by searching her ONE PLANET PODCAST series. You can find it on Amazon Music, Spotify, Tune In.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book, and in fact my whole career would not have been possible without Margaret Coker, my high school music teacher who recognized something deep inside me long before I did myself. Thank you for setting me off on this lifelong path.

Thanks to my college professors, Jim Gebler, John Hales and Tom Hosmer. Most especially Jim Gebler who taught me how woodwind instrument repair could mimic a holistic approach to life. Also, for his help and guidance as I started out on my career so many years ago.

To the late saxophonist Nick Brignola whose faith in me encouraged me to raise my bar as I developed my skills as a professional instrument technician. To the late Earl Cookingham from John Tirkot Music who acted as a mentor and friend in the early years of my business. To Ken Drumm for his unwavering friendship throughout the years and especially for the countless hours he spent editing this book. To Geri Koch, whose role as a customer overshadowed his mentorship to me; there really never was a time I didn’t learn something as I worked on his instruments.

To New York Times Best Selling Author Bruce Piasecki for recognizing my true purpose for writing, to tell the story. Also, for his enthusiasm in welcoming me into the writing community by sharing his expertise and contacts. To Frank Yuchymiw at Book Baby for his swift and expert guidance as I published the 2nd edition of With The Band.

My heartfelt thanks to all mentioned in this book as well as my many friends and customers not mentioned. To everyone I’ve had the pleasure to serve along with your own unique and special story. My only regret it would be impossible to mention all of you. You will however, remain in my fond memories for the rest of my days.

To my children, Jennnifer, Valerie, Meredith and Billy M, that grew up only knowing Dad as a music shop owner. I cherish all the memoires and shared stories as the shop became part of their lives as well.

I have no doubt that God had a plan for me and that I was truly blessed when He decided my partner in life would be Mary Alice. To Him I Give thanks; and to her for the many roles she has played in my life: loving wife and friend, mother of my children, business partner, photographer and constant confidant to mention only a few. Finally, for her methodical archiving of scrapbooks containing momentos in the form of tickets, backstage passes, photos and news articles. Also, with the final editing of the book that only she could do. Without her help and organizing, this book would be far less interesting.

INTRODUCTION

As a person sets out to hone his or her craft, they inevitably become a craftsperson. The real distinction however, comes from the validation of others. Over the years I‘ve cherished that validation from those very people who are my clients, and in retrospect, are the true artists. I have been blessed with a talent to help others in a unique way, serving others so they could perform and express themselves through music. For over 40 years I have been restoring wind instruments, the best I can figure is at least 50,000, probably a lot more. My journey, which still continues today, has put me well down that path, far enough to look back now, to reminisce with heartfelt emotions and record them in the form of this memoir. My desire to write my memoir emerged in order to tell the more interesting stories about people and events that happened along my journey in the music business. Although you will read my accounts of famous customers, I trust you will share my revelations of the extraordinary, in the ordinary. It is those wonderful, simplistic parts of my life as a music shop owner that have shaped me to become who I am today. Although I don’t consider myself a writer, I must allude to the fact, at least enough to tell my story.

I opened my first shop in 1977. After studying musical instrument repair at the State University of New York (SUNY) Morrisville in upstate New York I graduated with an Associate Degree and set off to find employment. After a month of searching, I grew impatient and opened my own shop. My failure to find work, even from the local school programs, was soon overshadowed by a bigger success. My college teacher directed me to baritone saxophonist Nick Brignola. The world-renowned jazz saxophonist quickly spread the word to other players and I soon found myself working as a professional repairman. A series of events and meetings, seemingly orchestrated by a greater power, put my hands on the horns of some of the greatest players in the world. It would set in motion a colorful and enriching career. Through the years I have had the pleasure of working with players, young and old, giving them a voice so they can in return express themselves through their music. Like a sculptor, I learned early on that pitch, resonance, and sometimes intentional resistance could be shaped within an instrument to enable the artists to express the emotion in their music. Working with these artists side-by-side made me the expert technician I am today. Now everyone who enters Cole’s Woodwind Shop benefits from these past encounters and friendships.

God gave us all talent. It is our own choice to do whatever we want to do with it. We may leave it idle or focus on it with passion; use it to become rich or to help the poor; use it to do good or do harm. I believe God wants us to use it to better ourselves and everyone around us. And through the process you weave a fabric of life, never looking back until one day you notice the wonderful tapestry you’ve created.

I could never comprehend what a wonderful life I would lead when I started out so many years ago. The choices I would make - good and bad, hard or easy - that would set me off on a wonderful journey - a journey full of learning about myself and about the music business. Most important to me would be the people I would come to know, the people who would follow me down the path of life. Some were there for a short while, some every step of the way. It is my intention to share my tapestry with you, unfolding it to reveal the stories that shaped my life as a music shop owner.

Chapter 1

In The Beginning

I vividly remember my guidance counselor in high school looking at me with not much hope in the young man who stood before her. She struck me as a sad aging woman. Her office reeked of cigarette smoke. The wrinkles in her face told her own story of how her own life never quite unfolded like she had wanted. I had no intention of going to college. I was told for 12 years that if I didn’t do well in school, I would never amount to anything. I didn’t buckle down enough. I wasn’t focused. I wasn’t smart enough. Instead of collecting A’s I would collect detention slips and late slips. Running out of excuses for being late in the morning I would stand in front of the attendance lady and proclaim, I was just too tired and, not saying a word, she would write down my words, too tired. My high school graduation was approaching in a month. Many of my fellow classmates were already enrolled in the colleges of their choice whereas I had no dreams of continuing academically. My plan was to be a carpenter since I had already developed a passion for it as a carpenter’s helper. Another option presented to me was to work for the State of New York. My godmother was the secretary to Dan O’Connell, the head of the Democratic machine in Albany and it was understood all I had to do was ask and I would have a job, with benefits. It was the last thing I wanted to do.

Then the most wonderful thing happened. My music teacher, Margaret Coker, caught wind of my intentions (or rather my lack of intentions) for a college education. She seemed truly troubled with my decision not to continue with my musical education! She was a new teacher that year and had only known me for a short time yet she knew my love for music and playing percussion in the band was a big reason for even wanting to stay in school! I can still see her pacing back and forth in front of me saying You should be going to college for music! She told me how I was making a big mistake and there was a place for me in music. I was thinking, Wow, maybe I was a candidate for college after all! My future wife, at the tender age of 16, was encouraging me as well. I remember Mrs. Coker storming out of the room and retrieving college brochures from the guidance office two doors down the hall. They too reeked of cigarette smoke, but no matter, they were now in my hands because someone of authority had faith in me. There were plenty of colleges that trained you to be a music teacher or a musician. I never really believed I was talented enough to do either or perhaps I was just disinterested and used the former as an excuse. Then, with a flick of the finger, I came across a brochure for SUNY at Morrisville that offered a program called Musical Instrument Technology (MIT). As I read it explained its purpose of teaching applicants’ skills in repairing and restoring woodwinds, brass, and stringed instruments. It was the very first year that an Associate’s Degree program was offered under the SUNY system for musical instrument repair. It immediately caught my attention and I think my teacher pushed me towards the hall where a pay phone hung on the wall.

John Hales was sitting at his desk when I called. Hales, the coordinator for MIT, proclaimed, You may be a little too late! The limit of 30 students had been filled months ago. He revealed, There may be, however, one spot open since one applicant was thinking of backing out. He advised me that if I was serious about it, I’d better come out for an interview immediately.

I made an appointment for the next day right then and there. The next morning, I didn’t show up for high school nor did I tell any one of my intentions, outside of Mrs. Coker and my girlfriend Mary Alice. What an adventure! At the age of seventeen I made the two-hour drive west on Route 20 towards the sleepy little college town. I was so excited to be able to visit a college. I thought about my future the whole way and was filled with hope. It was this very feeling of excitement and hope that would fuel my dreams for the rest of my life.

As you roll down the hill into Morrisville you are immediately surrounded by the college campus. A welcome site, almost magical, as if all the buildings were built with the sole purpose of educating me and ultimately changing my future. I quickly found the MIT building on the main street going through town. It was a white clapboard house that stood out alone, unlike the other brick and mortar buildings that dominated the campus. As I walked in the door, I found John Hales at his desk, smoking his pipe and sizing me up as I introduced myself.

The interview didn’t go as well as I hoped, or I didn’t think so at the time. He was drilling me about myself and he wanted to find out just how serious I was. He gave me all the reasons why I was not right for the program. First of all, he pointed out to me that I was a percussionist and questioned my familiarity with woodwind and brass instruments. Also, I would be applying too late and probably not be eligible for tuition aid. Besides, on-campus housing was filled and I’m sure he was wondering why I had come alone with no apparent support from home. After I convinced him of my interest in the program and my willingness to learn how to play all the instruments, he gave me an ultimatum: persuade the powers-to-be to enroll me as a late applicant, secure the money needed to pay the tuition, and get back to him ASAP. I then knew what I had to do. I had to tell my parents of my plan. I would have to convince them that it was the right thing to do and how much I wanted to go through with it! Their initial reaction was just what I expected, YOU WANT TO DO WHAT!?! FIX MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS? And, You expect to make a living doing this? It would be the first of many times that someone would ask me that doubting question. Parents, aunts, uncles, future in-laws and friends, you name them, they didn’t get it. Nor did I, at least 100%. I just knew it felt right and was one of those times I knew I had to follow my gut feeling. After convincing my parents it was the right thing to do, I had to figure out how I was going to pay the tuition of $365 a semester plus room and board. The denial letters for aid came first. I was too late to apply so I pleaded with the college administration and finally persuaded someone to help me. I did it. When September came around, I moved into a rented room across the street from the campus and there I pursued my education in instrument repair.

Like a million other college students college life was my first chance to live on my own. Morrisville’s campus was like most American college campuses – always a beehive of activity. Everyone with a mission in mind - to get to class, a lab, lunch, or back to a dorm to meet friends. You heard the occasional outburst of primal screamers who would throw open their windows in a sudden breakdown over something that was frustrating them, cracking up everyone within earshot. Everyone could relate. As students found their way to classes, they were already walking the walk, the path of their career choice. It struck me in a wonderful way how most seemed to focus on their career choices and were already playing those roles. The horticulture students were tucked away in the green houses, the equine students were in the barn tending to their horses in the early morning, and the auto techs were rumbling around access roads to the college in the newly customized rides. And the MIT students, with horns slung over their shoulders, walked with a spring in their steps to the newly fitted lab in the Madison Building. Once a home it now was fitted with repair benches built in three separate rooms on the first floor. Other rooms, up and down the stairs, were used as storage for a mass number of supplies and tools. Instruments, donated by schools and music stores, were everywhere, waiting for the wide-eyed students eager to learn their new trade.

The building seemed to have its own personality. The wooden benches in the former home gave it a cottage-like feel that had a warming effect on me. I felt welcomed by them. My fellow classmates also seemed to be settling in. There was a very upbeat atmosphere and the thirty people in the program immediately started establishing their territory, claiming their benches near the best window, near the most desired students, and then formed bonds within the small groups. Everyone seemed to know someone and their spots were quickly claimed. As a matter of default, I took my bench somewhere in the middle, happy and grateful to be there, to belong and take my place for what would be two of the most important years of my life.

I can remember John Hales staying in his office in the front of the lab most of the first day. I then thought it was a strange thing. Perhaps he was letting the chips fall where they would, only to emerge from his shelter from chaos to announce ground rules, classes and lab schedules. Some of the guys bucked him right away and I thought how stupid they were not to be on board with the guy who was going to teach us. As my student/teacher relationship developed with Hales in those first few weeks so did my relationship of the cooler students. The core of the group were two brothers, Phil and Steve Romano, sons of an Air Force Chaplain stationed at nearby Griffiss Air force Base in Rome, NY. They were witty, wise-cracking guys who embodied the whole rock and roll lifestyle, whether it be the way they would dress or the music they would play or listen to. Other students of similar taste would attach to the crowd and, although they distanced themselves from me at first, we would ultimately become friends. Eventually I became a roommate with some of them. In a campus of mainly agriculture students, we certainly stuck out. When most students were wearing backpacks and carrying brief cases, the musicians were toting gig bags and guitars. The Romano brothers didn’t like to wear the uniform (blue jeans), they were anti-establishment and wanted everyone to know they were. The brothers lived in a trailer on the outskirts of town with Rodney Bean, a bass player and MIT student as well. Mike Klvana, a keyboardist, was perpetually upbeat and said, Hello! to everyone he passed on campus. He was committed to being a good student, yet he was very social, balancing the two seemingly with ease. The first year of college, he lived in a dorm room on the far side of the campus with Ben Pearson. Ben, who was a guitarist and flutist, completed our group of rock and rollers. Ben had a florescent green Charger. I’m sure the color of the car, the loud muffler, the long hair, and the clouds of smoke coming from the windows attracted attention, especially in a small town with not much more than six bars, one grocery store, and a State Police barracks.

I remember walking into an all-day special event with our group of friends. The college Student Association was hosting a bunch of bands along with plenty of beer and food. The group of us walked down the sidewalk toward the entrance like we owned the place. As we approached one of the students’ taking tickets swung open the gate simultaneously asking, Are you with the band? I think it was Mike Klvana who was quick enough to brazenly announce, Yes we are, and we all got in for free. I had just turned 18, the legal drinking age back then and probably too young, like most of us attending the all-day drinking fest. Thank God for lack of money!

John Hales was the brass tech teacher and Jim Gebler was hired as the woodwind tech teacher for that first year of the program. Jim’s approach to teaching was a refreshing one for me. He had a laid-back way of instructing that he delivered with a kind of a Zen philosophy. It was something I responded well to, especially because Hales, being the program coordinator, would come across a bit more stern and Jim was a nice balance to that. Jim would have night classes in addition to the scheduled labs during the day. Some of the students resisted his approach to teaching and not all of them showed up during the night sessions. It was probably just as well since the so-called nerds of the class would have a problem with the pre-class joint research, which I wanted no part of. Then there was the extracurricular activity of making a bong out of a trombone slide in the basement of the lab. Although I had some part in its design I didn’t partake in the testing. OK, I didn’t inhale, as a Presidential sax player once said. The project was never graded so I will assume that Jim didn’t know about the extra activities. In the scheduled classes I was like a sponge, quickly picking up repair techniques and I soon pulled ahead of the others. I kept quiet about my advancement because it was considered by some that only the teachers’ pets would get high grades. That might have been true to some extent. It was soon obvious that some would not be able to cut it. There was a realization among us that some would be dropping out. The first casualty was one of the two women in the program. She was a sweet girl and quietly left mid semester without fanfare. The other woman, Judy, seemed to have a very special chemistry with Jim and