Through a number of odd happenings, I had a very powerful and spiritual experience this November 11th. The afternoon before the Remembrance Day assembly I found out the trumpet player I thought was coming to play the Last Post for us, was actually not booked. I never received the message. Knowing that I would never find a player in that short a time, I went in on Tuesday and found myself a school trumpet. I took a trumpet minor in high school, played a little in dance band years ago, and taught middle school band 4 years ago, so to say I was rusty would be a huge understatement. As I started to practice, it sounded, well, worse than a grade nine student, to be honest.
As the soldier I had booked was taking to the students, I slipped outside the gym to warm up. Still not great. Moments before 11:00 am, I told myself: "You have to do this, for everyone who has served and especially your grandfather, a World War II vet and not long gone from this world". I honestly believe that he helped me today, because, although not picture perfect, I played every note clearly and didn't kak once. For those of you in the know, the Last Post is HARD, with G's out of nowhere, not to mention all note changes are done with your embouchure as it is all open. I had tears in my eyes at the end, as I know I did my grandfather and myself proud.
It was a profound moment in my life and I'll never forget the feeling.
Lest We Forget.