Happy 100th, Great Lakes

According to this story in the Chicago Tribune, the Great Lakes Naval Station is celebrating its 100th birthday this year.

All I can say is, something's wrong with the math. I spent 100 years there in 1974 alone.

Max Murray uncovered

So far, in my quest to shame members of the Navy Musicians Association who are engaging in unauthorized musical performances between reunions, I've outed Rabbit Simmons and Bob Marquart.

Their actions are, of course, disgraceful, but at least I can distance myself from their scandalous behavior. But now I've uncovered evidence of another NMA gigger, and can't so easily disassociate myself.

You see, bassist Max Murray and I were shipmates in Newport and at the School of Music. A couple of years ago, I thought it would be great to see him again, so I helped recruit him into joining the NMA.

Apparently, our annual reunions are not enough for Max. Here's the footage; like Simmons and Marquart, he's been moonlighting between reunions. Not with an obscure trio or no-name cocktail duo. No, leave it to Max Murray to perform regularly as a member of the Grammy-winning Afro Bop Alliance.

Max Murray, have you no shame?

Another NMA member caught gigging.

I recently posted about the shocking discovery that certain members of the Navy Musicians Association are actually performing in public during the 51 weeks of the year between reunions. I have vowed to "out" those members who practice, perform or lead ensembles.

Now, it is my sad duty to inform you that I've caught NMA member Bob Marquart in the act of performing in, of all places, New Orleans.

I could understand it if he were gigging in East Peoria or downtown Moose Crossing, Idaho, somewhere where his scandalous behavior would go unnoticed. But no, Marquart has the effrontery to do it in front of the cameras in Jazz City, USA.

For years, Bobby was one of the most active on-call trumpet and banjo players in Virginia Beach. I guess he thought this background, combined with his talent, would open doors for him in New Orleans.

And I guess he was right.

It's no wonder NMA bands are so good

During the last Navy Musicians Association reunion, I began to suspect that some members have been practicing their instruments during the year.

I had no proof of this, as many musicians are loathe to confess to such chicanery. I decided to search for evidence.

The situation turns out to be far more serious than I thought. I have found proof that certain NMA members are actually performing, both professionally and as members of academic and volunteer musical organizations. I suspect, but cannot yet prove, that some NMA members even lead these musical ensembles.

I submit, for example, this video of NMA member Rabbit Simmons performing with a jazz group in Cocoa Beach, Fla. last August.

Rest assured, friends, any time I find conclusive evidence of between-reunion performing by NMA members, I will post it here. Perhaps a little old-fashioned shame will keep these guys in line.

Thanks for the memories.

One day in December of 1975, a trombone player banged on my barracks door, shouting,"Liberty is cancelled! Jump in your dungarees and get to rehearsal: we're doing Bob Hope's Christmas show tonight!"

It was news to me. In fact, it was news to all of Navy Band San Francisco. But when it came to entertaining American troops, Bob Hope got what he wanted, and what he wanted was to perform that night at the Oak Knoll Naval Hospital. Some travel snafu had given him an unscheduled day off, and, instead of resting, this show business legend had found a worthy audience. Not having his band with him, he called the nearest military band and said, like they did in those old movies:

"Let's put on a show."

And we did. Hope's manager delivered the charts to the band spaces, MUCS Skip Poole rehearsed us and, that night, led us in accompanying Bob Hope and his cast of supporting acts before an audience of wounded warriors in wheelchairs and rolling hospital beds.

Bob Hope's Christmas Tour of Asia and the Pacific, mid-'60s. Advance
to 48:00:00 to see Bob's shows on USS Ranger and USS Coral Sea.

Imagine what would have happened if the Hope organization, wanting to entertain troops on the spur of the moment, had been required to call a music contractor and say, "Can you give me an 18-piece band for a rehearsal in 45 minutes and two-hour performance tonight, no pay, no travel expenses, no cartage fees?"

Don't tell me Navy bands are fluff. They do thing civilian bands couldn't dream of.

Yes, we still remember

On Veterans Day, the Rock Island Argus and Moline Dispatch published a column I wrote about a young MU from my area, Jerry Cox, who died, with all of Band 22, on USS Arizona during the December 7, 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor. (I've posted it here.)

Recently, I got a letter from a man who read the column, telling me he remembers Jerry Cox from his childhood. In the '30s and early '40s, when he was a youngster, his father ran a neighborhood grocery store in East Moline. Jerry Cox lived down the street and stopped at the store often, a big kid with a lot of musical talent.

He said he was surprised at the memories the column brought back. Mostly, though, he was surprised that, after all the years that have passed since Musician 2/C Gerald Cox died, anyone would remember him.

I've written back and told my correspondent that the story of Band 22's sacrifice has always been remembered by those who have served in U.S. Navy bands. We remember that Navy musicians were among the first American troops in World War II to give their lives. We remember that "in harm's way" is not a destination unkown to Navy bands. We remember that bands are not mere decorations, trifling sequins and ribbons to be admired and discarded, but binding threads woven into the very fabric of the Navy.

How can we not remember?