Thomas Hammett:  

The Gift of October 29, 1995 Thomas Hammett At the time of this writing, it has been one year since one of the most enjoyable weekends of my life. It was a time of enormous summary of most of the people, places and events that have been truly dear to me for nearly a half-century. Plans had been in preparation for many months to attend the special half-time celebration at the Troy State University football game during the weekend of October 29, 1995. The special nature of the event was the celebration of the accomplishments and retirement of Bandmaster Johnny Long. Dr. Long is that ¿teacher of legendary influence¿ who, far more than in his area of music, affected the lives of countless thousands of musicians and citizens throughout the nation. Beyond his role as teacher, musician and inspiration, he has been a friend for over forty years. I had not participated in the homecoming festivities since graduation from Troy State in 1971 and had not visited the campus but once since completion of the Masters program in 1975. Twenty years is a fairly long time to stay away, and I must admit that mixed with the excitement of seeing the band, Dr. Long and many old school mates, I had a bit of apprehension associated with touching base with that segment of my past. Apprehensions immediately evaporated as we settled onto the campus. I drove by my old dorm and down past the bandroom and practice field (parking lot). As my family got out of the van we noticed a commotion just down the block. We went to investigate and could not have stumbled into a better situation. The 800-member combination alumni and university band was rehearsing for the special half-time performance. Phil Kelley was announcing over the P.A. system and the excitement could not have been any higher. We settled in to watch the rehearsal and hadn¿t been there more than three or four minutes when Mrs. Long walked by. We exchanged greetings and she issued instructions (as any loving mother would) for me to get out on the field and take my position. I explained to her I had not planned to participate on the field during the half-time, that we were there just to enjoy the festivities. She would not stand for such nonsense and insisted that I take my place immediately. From out of thin air, a couple of my old buddies produced a snare drum and a pair of sticks. Faye found an official T-shirt and cap and there I was in the middle of the rehearsal, remembering the drum parts to the familiar Johnny Long arrangements as if I had played them the day before. What an incredible, over-powering feeling occurred as the band exploded into the fanfare. Eight- hundred marvelously talented musicians (and has-beens) recreating and culminating the memories and efforts of a lifetime of marching band participation, and all packed into a few hours of rehearsal, eating a meal together and then the evening football game. The emotions of the moment were indescribable, for there was so much more than marching band history taking place. The evening was a resounding success. Dr. Long received the honor of 500 former students traveling from all parts of the country to participate in the alumni band. He received honors from many officials such as the Mayor of Troy, the Governor of Alabama, as well as the United States Congress and the President. There was even a statue presented to the University in Dr. Long¿s likeness. The next morning proved to be, albeit in less grandiose proportions, a very special Sunday in my family archives. I knew that my oldest brother, Willie, would be involved in the Troy State celebrations, but I didn¿t realize that I would have the opportunity to visit with my other brothers, Ken and George, Jr. during the same trip. Mom had arranged for me to sing special music at her church that morning and for Willie to play his trumpet for the offertory. It was quite a surprise when the entire family was assembled to attend the Presbyterian Church...all together...under the same church roof...as a family... for the first time in over thirty years. That assemblage alone could account for several chapters of writing. I realized during the minutes when I sang ¿The Holy City¿ that our time together would become one of those memorable occasions in my life. And certainly it has. Willie, being the family gadget man, was alert enough to bring along a good quality camera that weekend and took some outstanding candid shots. What would a Sunday at church be without returning to Mom¿s house afterwards for roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, numerous vegetables and desserts? Well, I guess she out-smarted us that time. The church provided a nearly endless spread of everybody¿s favorites at a covered-dish luncheon. So our entire mob was thoroughly fed; George and Opal, the four sons and wives, and a handful of grandchildren...and not a dish to be washed. It¿s difficult to believe that the Marx brothers, Bob Hope and Johnny Carson made so much money doing for cash and fame what the Hammett brothers have done for free and obscurity for nearly fifty years. If laughter is the best medicine, that afternoon¿s comedy should keep us healthy for quite a while. It was great sitting around sharing old family stories, lots of jokes, puns and any other situation we could stretch into humor. Dad wasn¿t able to talk very much by that point, but a couple of timely one-word responses, coupled with the right facial expressions allowed him to keep up pretty well in the humor. It had been a dozen or so years since Dad had suffered a heart attack and subsequent triple bypass surgery. It was at that time I discovered that the authoritative rock in my family was in reality a normal mortal human being and was subject to faltering health and (as unbelievable as it was) subject to possible death. The shock waves tremored to my foundation and the resulting prayer on his behalf was perhaps the deepest I had ever prayed...as much for me in my unprepared-for-his-departure state...as for his recovery. Thankfully, he was spared and returned to good health for many years. It was again rather shocking when Mom called early in November to let us know that Dad was going into the hospital for some tests. He had been waking up during the night somewhat disoriented, rising from bed and falling. Within two weeks from the time of our visit, Dad was in the hospital. Following a series of tests it was determined that he was suffering from fairly advanced liver cancer that had apparently spread to his lungs. Nothing had ever been more sobering than that news. He could expect only a few months of life at best. Within two weeks he was moved to Crowne Nursing Home in Montgomery where he...Expand for more