The Hall of Fame Experience

You’ll Never Walk Alone: The NJ Drum Corps Hall of Fame

On the first weekend of June, 2021, I marched the entire Elks Parade with the Golden Knights Alumni Corps. It was something I had wanted to do since joining BSGK back in 2014, but between arthritis and breast cancer, I wasn’t able to do it. In 6 of the past 7 years, I would jump in the line before the American Legion Post and jump back out at Kelly’s. I have played that mile quite a few times with the South Jersey Vagabonds Alumni Corps for the American Legion State Convention, but the Vagabonds sit comfortably on captain’s chairs on a float for parades. This year I didn’t care what it cost; I was marching that mile with my Golden Knights. “My Boyz” in the line supported me the whole way, making sure I was ok, making sure I had water, making sure I could make it. I was proud and exhilarated when I got to Kelly’s, and I was deeply moved by the number of you who know what I’ve been through these past two years cheering me on, from the BonBons, Blue Rock, Archie, Reilly, Cabs, Bracken, and BSGK. It felt wonderful to know I wasn’t alone.

What I never expected that day came from my very first friend in life, Dale Smallzell Russo. Let me take a minute to explain that Dale and I were at Sacred Heart School together, and I didn’t have girlfriends in my neighborhood. So when I heard some girl on the playground call Dale “Smell Pretzell,” I knocked the girl down. I don’t think Dale even knew it, but Dale and I went on to be good friends at the tender age of 6. When I joined the BonBons in 1964, there was Dale already in the line. Dale went into education, as I did, so we would see one another at teacher events. When I joined the Vagabonds as their music director, we went to shows, and there was Dale with the Cabs. I was glad to once again be sharing time with her, and I was so happy when she was inducted into the NJ Drum Corps Hall of Fame. I have always admired her as an amazing woman who has endured far more hardship than I can imagine bearing, with strength, grace, and dignity. I can’t tell you how much I’ve loved that woman over the past 60 years.

There at Kelly’s, Dale came to me and congratulated me for marching the parade. Then she said, (after saying, ‘OMG, I’m gonna cry’) “I want to nominate you to the NJ Drum Corps Hall of Fame.” I was stunned. I cried. She cried. Her husband Jimmy laughed at us. She said that she, Jimmy, and Carol Pennisi Terreri wanted to sponsor my membership, and I was still stunned. I asked her, “Why? What have I done?” Dale said, “Are you kidding? You’ve done amazing things these past couple years. I see you directing, competing, leading. I see people recognize you. It’s time you got recognized by everybody. You keep the memory alive, and that’s what Audubon BonBons do.” I was stunned again. Dale told me to put my resumé together, but it took me a few days to become un-stunned. These three greats of drum corps truly honor me with this nomination, and I am humbled by their support. And since two of them are drum majors, I figured it wasn’t up to me to argue with them. I kept it to myself as I prepared the application, though, sensing that I wasn’t really going to be accepted with so many applicants, and so many more worthy candidates. 

Putting my notes in order for the application evoked wonderful memories of my years with “the Girls of Audubon.” The beer-hall smell of the VFW in Oaklyn. Close-order elimination drills—and the time I tied with my sister Teri in one of them. The awe I felt of the goddess-like “Older Girls.” The freezing cold of the Bader airport hangar, where Linda Johnson and I accidentally trapped a mouse in Barbara Pennisi’s bugle and it got stuck in there—Ray Eyler had to blow it out. My closest friends Dee Parney, Linda Johnson, Debbie Lubonski, Carol Ann Schafer, Martha Sullivan, Lynn Hackett. The scent of cream deodorant, baby powder, and hoagies on the bus. Brenda Bachelor playing “Soldier Boy” for 2½  hours straight on the bus up to North Jersey. Lisa Krejewski, the only other girl who preferred George over John and Paul. The first time I saw the Statue of Liberty from the bus window (I still look for her). Initiation at Garrison Lake at the corps picnic, and marching into the cedar water covered in ketchup, mustard, syrup, toothpaste, shaving cream, baby oil, and sand. And in Miami, where I got to do the same initiation for my sister Donna. The chill of sheer terror of “When it’s least expected, you’re elected, you’re our star today…” Trips to Canada, Florida, Atlanta, Texas, and breaking down in Bug Puddle, Missouri (or whatever the town was called). Slipping on tiny frogs on a lousy practice field in Massachusetts. Maryann Multanski invading the pilgrim museum. Chaperones and restriction. Individuals contests, Symphony Hall, JFK stadium, Granny’s. Basketball with the Polish Falcons.The Penn Fruit parking lot. The first time you see your name or your photo in Drum Corps News.

Growing up on Oakland Avenue in Audubon, NJ, two blocks from the Community Center where we practiced Wednesday nights, I could set my watch by the parade of black slacks, white blouses, and dark blue sweaters that streamed up the street, gathering more and more of them as they went. I think there were seven on my block alone, and then more rounded the corners from Graisbury Avenue and Oak Street. It was a wonderful night when I joined that parade in 1964. 

Teri had told Ray Eyler I could play a horn, so I was handed one. I played a scale on the spot, and the next thing I knew I was put in charge of getting other rookies to do the same. I taught them to play “through” the horn, not “at” the mouthpiece, by having them shoot spitballs through their mouthpieces in the ladies’ room. When Ray came in to check on us, they pelted him with spitballs. But they also played the scale.

In those days, no one had ever heard the words “autism” or “Aspergher’s”; my parents, my friends, my teachers—everyone just knew I was weird. I can still hear Carol Pennisi say, with that wonderful Italian “Salth” Jersey accent, “Ethel, you are so we-ird.” But none of that mattered once I became part of the Audubon BonBons. I was part of a squad. The squad was part of a line. The line was part of the drill. The drill was part of the show. I had a place in that show. I learned that from Joe Bernert, Jr., and I’ve always carried that theme with me throughout my career, in education, in youth ministry, and in drum corps: you are part of something larger than yourself. As the song says, “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” I never did. And I never marched alone, either.

I was 12 years old when Ray pulled me and Linda DiMarino Ey aside and said we should compete as a duet, a new category at individuals contests. So we did. And we won. A LOT. Seven medals. I can’t tell you which moment made me prouder: winning the Noel Nationals back in 1967, or standing next to a guy in his 80’s from Reilly Raiders just a few years ago, who told me, “Yeah, those Audubon girls could play. I remember me and a buddy entered a duet at Noel Nationals, and these two scrawny little kids from Audubon beat the pants off us.”  

Over the last two years, undergoing a double mastectomy for three different kinds of breast cancer, I’ve often thought of Tessie, too. Deathly white, sunglasses, scarf, little parasol, and that waggling finger. The woman couldn’t pronounce anyone’s names; Mrs. Yarnell had to translate for her half the time: “Spiekler, Nautley, Sterlein, and Srette.” But what comes to me now in the wisdom of hindsight is that this woman survived breast cancer at a time when the survival rate was only 60%. That takes immense stamina and guts, as I now have learned, and I now treasure the memory of Mrs. B. I only wish I can show the same courage and endurance as I continue my fight.

My resumé ends up being more full than I ever realized. I marched with the BonBons for 8½ years. In that time, I taught rookies, led sectionals, won a few duet and individual contests, became a soloist, and learned arranging. Thanks to Carol Pennisi Terreri, I also got to teach the rookies of the Cramer Hill Rough Riders, one of whom went on to become a professional trumpet player in Vegas and California. I marched 3 years with Blue Rock’s lead soprano line, where I learned professional performance technique from the incomparable Bob Hagley. I had to fight a little harder for respect in Blue Rock, but there is a wonderful story in Bob Cook’s My Seven Decades of Drum Corps Adventures, available from Amazon, that tells how I passed muster; go buy the book! Across my years in education, many of my school students marched local corps like Surf, Fusion, Bushwhackers, and Crossmen. It meant a lot to them when I attended shows and sent them shout-outs there and in class. In 2008, I dropped off a lot of scrapbooks and souvenirs from my sister Teri to Marlene Miller Brown at a South Jersey Vagabonds open house. Marlene said, “Bring a horn!” and the next thing I knew, the corps director Joe Basciani, Jr., made me the music director. I told him, “If I’m going to be in charge of music, it’s going to be drum corps music.” I began arranging for them, adapting tunes from the corps represented by our members. Then I began composing original pieces. In all, I have 25 original arrangements for drum corps, and the SJ Vagabonds have won two first and two second place trophies at the Buglers Hall of Fame national championships, and placed in the American Legion States parade every time we competed. I absolutely glowed when Tommy Ashby from Caballeros strolled past our float in Wildwood and called out, “Vagabonds looking good, sounding awesome!” because those were my arrangements, and that was the horn line I’d beat into shape. During that time I joined Bugles Across America, and I’ve been proud to serve several missions for our military, including, sadly, some former students. Along with my husband Jack, in trios and quartets, or as a soloist, I won or placed in a few more Buglers Hall of Fame individuals national and regional championships representing the Vagabonds; in all, 9 medals. In 2014, Jack and I joined the Blessed Sacrament Golden Knights Alumni, part of their legendary lead soprano line, and once again I was playing duets—this time with Jack. In 2015 I played with the soprano line for the Blue Rock reunion corps in Wildwood. In 2016 I retired from teaching, and Tony Arena, husband of BonBon Debbie Borowicz Arena, asked me if I’d like to teach another corps. So I became music instructor and drum major of the Bracken Cavaliers for the next 3 years, and I treasure my friendships there with Don Coles, Diane McDevitt, Big Ed, Phil, and Bruno. In 2017, it was an honor and a joy to be the musical director for, and play with, the PAL Tribute Corps that Tony Arena organized for Acher-Epler’s 85th Anniversary Celebration. Then a real hoot when a bunch of us Blue Rock alumni, along with my son Jesse on keyboards, put together a “Blues Rock” band called the Cruisers to play a few gigs and at the Wildwood reunion, where again I was playing alongside my buddy Bob Cook. The following year I attended my first GAS and got to play beside some of the greats from Archie, Cabs, St. Lucy’s, and Audubon with yet another reunion corps. I continued playing, teaching, and arranging until cancer knocked me out of things for awhile. I managed to get back into uniform to take Bracken Cavaliers to second place at the Battle of the Boroughs in 2019, just 6 months after surgery, utterly bald, and still suffering from sixty pound of lymphedema. And while for many people the COVID quarantine was a barren period without drum corps, Jack and I organized regular “Porch Parties” for our block, and continued to observe Memorial Day, Independence Day, Veterans Day, Christmas, and New Year’s Day by playing appropriate bugle calls such as “To the Colors” and “Taps,” the national anthem, “America the Beautiful,” carols and Christmas songs, and “Auld Lang Syne” from our front porches for our neighbors on their porches. We even paraded our street while people waved from the porches. And this past year, emboldened by the Elks Parade, I marched solo in Haddonfield’s July 4th Parade as the West Cottage Avenue Porch Party Drumless Bugle Corps. On top of all this, I’m the administrator for a Facebook group called “Old NJ Drum Corps.”  

As I said at the induction banquet, I just thought I was having fun. I love old-school drum corps. I love the sound of a G bugle, the sound of a raw horn line playing march-tempo ballads and anthems. The swell of pride for a color presentation. The thrill of solos soaring up to high Gs and As and Cs. It never occurred to me that this was a resumé; I was just having the time of my life. But on July 20, 2021, I received a call from Ron Bonadonna that my nomination was accepted and I would be inducted into the New Jersey Drum Corps Hall of Fame. Even as I write that sentence, I’m still amazed. How ironic that in the same class, Tommy Ashby and my buddy Bob Cook are also being inducted. It makes me feel even more, as Joe Bernert, Jr., taught me, part of a squad, part of a line, part of a drill, part of the show, something greater than myself.

The motto of the Audubon Alumnae is “Keeping the Memory Alive.” I don’t think there has been a night I didn’t dream about drum corps: showing up late for a show; showing up on time but without my uniform; showing up in uniform for the wrong corps. If you've ever marched, I know you’ve dreamed that too. Some memories are bad, but they stay with you and make you stronger: blisters and fallen arches from marching in Keds and boots; sunburn and heat prostration from long rehearsals in the sun or hiding behind the Garden State Racetrack sign all day with cardboard sandwiches and no water; losing to the Polish Falcons. Other memories are glorious: beating Blessed Sacrament; beating Polish Falcons; beating Polish Falcons at basketball! I also hold memories so painful I only wish I could forget them, but they gave me the determination to go into youth ministry and education so I could work with teenagers and offer counsel to those who had the same traumas, so they too would never walk alone.

The day of the induction banquet was absolutely thrilling. As I came through the door, an entire crowd of people gathered there yelled “Congratulations!” and I could only blubber in surprise. I was sad my grandson Leighton was sick and my daughter-in-law Lindsay had to stay home, but I was joined by Jack and both my sons Buddy and Jesse, and Jesse’s wife Elizabeth and their daughter Eliana, who charmed everyone with her unbridled dance moves. She loved the Audubon Chorus, too, and she sang along with them and clapped at the end.

As I looked around the room, it amazed me how many of the faces there I had known since I was ten years old, some I marched with, some from other corps I’ve met through various events, some I had admired and respected from afar. In their presence, I was once again in tears trying to thank Dale, Carol, and Jimmy, who had nominated me to such an incredible legacy of drum corps history. 

When I looked over at the tables at the induction banquet filled with the women who marched before me, with me, and after me, I saw my former neighbors, my former babysitters, my former rookies, and fellow Douglass alumnae, and women who marched in other corps. I saw women who got saddled with me because my sister Teri was stuck watching me. Ella McElroy even had a photo of herself with my sister Teri and Franny Hazlitt from 1961. I saw glorious women who helped me get through the worst life-shattering trauma with laughter, friendship, hilarity, and love. I saw women who, even as teenagers, had a deep sense of wisdom and a knack for guidance, for which I’m grateful. I have never walked alone.

I have worn the red, white, and blue of the Rough Riders and St. Lucy’s Cadets; the Rockyknocker black and gold; the black and red of the Vagabonds and the Musketeers; the Cavalier orange and white; PAL’s black and white; now I’m a Knight in Golden satin. 

But I was born and raised in Audubon, NJ, the home of the greatest all-girl corps in history. I began my drum-corps life a BonBon and have carried that honor throughout my life. I have remained and always will remain “Loyal to the Blue and to the White.”

I know I don’t walk alone.