Jo Souder – make that Miss Souder – taught me to play the trombone in the fifth grade. In BHS band director years it was seven, maybe eight directors ago.

I thought that learning a musical instrument would be difficult, but it wasn’t and, despite what my older brother warned me about her, he was incorrect.  She wasn’t a scary as he made her out to be.

By the time I was in seventh grade I joined the marching band.  Can you believe that junior high musicians marched in the band in the early 1960s? In band uniform years, it was six uniforms ago.

As seventh graders, I believe our role was simply to fill up the band. You know, make it look larger. Because, as a seventh grader, it was simply a miracle that we remembered to bring our instruments to practice.

I even remember the first time I marched with the band. I nearly wet my you-know-what.

There was a summer night practice in the old band room. The room was a pit lower than the boiler room in the 1911 wing of the school. It had a weird outdoor stair step entrance and can you believe bars on the windows. Were we in prison?

The first evening of summer band rehearsal went something like this: I was handed a pile of third chair marching band sheet music. They were photocopies from the world’s earliest photocopy machine – producing a sort of onion-skinned, blue ink sheet that no doubt broke most music copyright laws.

I may have hit the first note, but was totally lost into the second bar of the fight song. Then it got worse.

The next thing I remember was Miss Souder yelling something like, “Okay, get your lyres on. We are going outside and march.”

Outside and march? Heck, I had never even considered the purpose of a lyre. After fumbling around with my trombone, lyre, photo-copied music…toss in a “one-kick!” I was doomed. Another trombone player had to tighten my lyre because I couldn’t even manage that simple task.

But, it was like riding a bike. And, Miss Souder led us through all sorts of marching routines. She even had a band practice standoff with Frank Osborne, the football coach. The situation was this: Who owned the football field during practice, the football team or the band?

I won’t bother with the details, but somehow Miss Souder marched us onto the field and the football team faded into the back 50. (In football coach years, Mr. Osborne was approximately nine coaches ago.)

That first year in band, I don’t think she remembered my first name. It was always “Steiner!” But, now that I think of it, I don’t think anyone in band had a first time. She only used last names. Each one had an explanation point as the final letter.

I should point out that at this time, Miss Souder was not just the band director. She was choir director and gave lessons during the school day.

If that wasn’t enough, she was first chair oboist in the Lima Symphony.  I think she was also on a bowling team at Southgate Lanes and drove one of the first-ever VW bugs in town. It was black.

Looking back, she was tough as nails. But, she knew how to successfully herd cats. In this case, those cats were adolescent teenage musicians. She herded us pretty well. Very well.

And, she was an incredibly gifted band and choir director.

Funny thing. Whenever I hear or watch the BHS marching band perform Miss Souder comes to mind, wearing that black female band director’s dress suit with that black director’s hat.

Immediately after that image of Miss Souder comes her words: "Band! Horn’s up!"

Note: In musical style years, this story took place approximately 56 styles ago, circa The Swingle Singers.