Hijinks, Shenanigans, and a Mule

Play the Stinger!

“This story was legendary for those of us who had been in the band in the middle 1950s when it was directed by Col. Francis E. Resta, who, it was said, considered himself to be the ‘Toscanini of the Band World.’

When Graduation Week arrived each year, the colonel got very nervous. He demanded absolute perfection. We got to the final parade with the Corps of Cadets marching, and with parents and relatives surrounding the parade ground. We were playing a march called Troup the Line with the colonel conducting. Now, standard practice for stopping a march was to stop on the first beat of the last measure of the phrase.

Just before we had begun to play the march, one of our colleagues quickly said to the trumpet player standing next to him, who was a frequent target of pranks, ‘Joe, today we’re supposed to play the stinger,’ (the repeated note at the end of the measure, which we typically left out on the parade field). So, Troup the Line ends, Resta directs the band to stop on the first beat, and Joe plays a convincing solo stinger, heard all over the parade ground. It was stunning. Everyone in the band anticipated that there would be hell to pay for Joe, or possibly the entire band, if Resta knew who played the note. When the ceremony ended, we marched back to our building and stood at attention for at least a couple of minutes waiting for the Colonel’s response. Finally, Resta very slowly said, ‘Joe, that was a very good tone.’ He then dismissed the band.”

A Grave Tale

A big part of the band’s job is to perform taps and additional honors at funerals, often for a West Point grad or high-ranking officer. But in 1962 the band had the unique opportunity of performing honors for the Academy’s mascot, Mr. Jackson, who was in fact…a mule. Yes, you read that right, the band played honors for a mule...of the four-legged variety. In one band member’s words:

“It was 1962, I believe, that Mr. Jackson, the West Point Corp of Cadets’ mascot died. It was tragic for the Corps, it seemed, because there were real tears shed. We in the band had no great fondness for ‘The Mule,’ so imagine our surprise when the word came down from ‘the hill’ that the band would play for Mr. Jackson’s funeral. It would be a formal funeral with full military honors.”

Okay, okay, I know you’re thinking, “Big deal! I gave a full military ceremony for my kid’s hamster!” If in fact, you have held such a ceremony for a family pet, then this author applauds you for your patriotism and ingenuity. Perhaps the band’s chagrin at honoring Mr. Jackson in this way stemmed from playing second fiddle to the Academy mascot, sharing the limelight at football half-time shows, and often marching behind him and his fellow mules at parades — take a moment to imagine the mess left in their stead! But when the day of the funeral arrived, the band realized the love and legacy Mr. Jackson left behind:

“The band is now at the West Point cemetery in full dress blues and it’s very cold… Everywhere there are people—grown men, cadets, officers of all ranks—crying as a moving eulogy is read. Somehow, a grand piano crate fresh from the Steinway factory has been provided as a casket for Mr. Jackson.”

Now it goes without saying that a full military ceremony for a mule is both hilarious and adorable. But the sight of grown men crying at the loss of such a beloved member of the West Point family only shows how deeply West Point Cadets, Staff, and Faculty care for one another. And perhaps only a musician can recognize the honor of using such a unique casket as a piano crate  offered by the prestigious Steinway & Sons piano company. It truly was a sight to behold. Mr. Jackson had won a place in the heart of West Point, and in the end, the band was proud to help lay him to rest.

“And that, kiddies, is one small chapter from ‘the inner workings of the West Point Band.’”

Bunked and Un-bunked

“On a trip to Ann Arbor, Michigan for an Army Football game, West Point Band musician Tony decided he would ‘beat the system’ on the band’s uncomfortable overnight train journey — he wanted to get a good night's sleep, so he brought a folding cot and blanket with him and stowed it in the train’s baggage car.

During the trip, as an all-night craps game kept the car lively, Tony decided to turn in and head off to the baggage car. He arrived there only to find that the baggage car door was locked! Since the train had to cross over into Canada, all doors had been locked and sealed by the conductor, so poor Tony was forced to stay up all night with no place to sleep after all.

The really sad part?  When the door was unlocked, he found a stowaway Hellcat in his bed. This scrappy Hellcat had made sure he was locked in the car so that he could enjoy the cot and blanket all night!”