The Dundee Scots were a high school marching band from the Dundee area in Northern Illinois, USA. Their beginning dates to the Fall of 1966, when they adopted the Scottish theme to complement the town's namesake, Dundee, Scotland. They entered their first Summer of band competition in 1967, winning third place in class AAA at Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. In the Summer of 1968 the Scots won another third place at the V.F.W. National Contest in Detroit, Michigan.
The band rose to national fame under the directorship of Doyle Heffron. Noteworthy performances included playing for Richard Nixon's inaugural in 1972. One of the first successes was beating out 49 other states to win the VFW parade in St. Louis, Missouri in 1970. The Scots furthered that success by winning the Governor's Trophy at the National Cherry Festival in 1969, 1970, and 1971, prompting representatives of the Cherry Festival to travel to Dundee's Spain Field and award the trophy as a permanent prize to the Dundee Scots. Prior to that, the trophy had always been a traveling trophy. Doyle Heffron later became the director of the Cherry Festival in Traverse City, Michigan.
The Dundee Scots released an album in 1971 entitled The Sound of the Dundee Scots. This album included music from field competitions dating from 1968 through 1971.
Scotland the Brave
British Grenadier & Rule Britannia
Field Competition 1971: Narrator - Robert Lemke
Trumpet Voluntary
Brigadoon Medley
Commonwealth Medley
What Kind of Fool am I
Wee MacGregor
Londonderry Aire
Auld Lang Syne
Brigadoon Fanfare
Camelot Medley
When Johnny Comes Marching Home
Macarena
Requiem for the Masses
Swing Low
Somewhere
April in Paris
We've Only Just Begun
Unlike other High School bands, the Scots were a military style band, with the precision and discipline more like a drum and bugle corps. Many considered the band to be a sister to the Kilties Drum and Bugle Corps.[citation needed] Uniforms included Royal Stewart tartan kilts, white tunics, sporrans, and headwear. Instrumentalists wore Glengarry caps, the color guard wore Balmoral tams, and the Drum Majors wore shakos.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sunday, August 31, 2008
From Chris John to Mr. Heffron
Dear Doyle,I heard you left us. I heard that you went to a better place.
Here is what I heard about this place:* Trumpets are not the loudest instrument in the band.* Everyone leads with their left foot.* Bag pipes stay in tune.* Perfect 8 steps for 5 yards* You don't have to cut anyone's hair* Sheer perfection
Congratulations!You reached your pinnacle.You did that here too.I do have a couple of questions though I hope you can help me with.
I was a band geek. But it was cool. You made being a band geek cool.How many band Geeks shake the hand of the President of the United States?
We were a team and you were the head coach.How many head coaches lead more than 300 people to victory?
Personal reasons took me away from the band too early.I missed it every day.My dad, now in his mid 70's, still talks about how proud he was of me. How proud he was that I strived to be my best. You taught me that. You taught all of us to set a goal and pursue it.
I came into the Band in '75 and already had a reputation. Coming into the band out of the 8th grade I was a little intimidated. Ok, downright scared.Did you see it?
You must of.You came up to me my first day and shook my hand. You looked me straight in the eye and said "I've heard a lot about you. I hope it's all true"Did you mean it?
When you said that did you notice my chin get a little higher, my back a little straighter, my knees a little higher?
Did you say that to everyone?
You know when a coach wins a Super Bowl the media likes to say something like. "He is a product of _________: ""He trained under: ________"
So my final question Mr. Heffron is:How may people do you think would be able to say "I'm a product of DOYLE HEFFRON"?
Suddenly that perfect line from the side line while playing "Alud Land Syne" doesn't seem to be the only thing you were after does it?
On second thought Mr. Heffron you don't have to answer these questions I think I know the answers now.
Not sure if you heard it enough. I know I didn't say it. It's not too late. So here goes.
THANK YOU MR HEFFRON
Chris JohnSAX '78
Here is what I heard about this place:* Trumpets are not the loudest instrument in the band.* Everyone leads with their left foot.* Bag pipes stay in tune.* Perfect 8 steps for 5 yards* You don't have to cut anyone's hair* Sheer perfection
Congratulations!You reached your pinnacle.You did that here too.I do have a couple of questions though I hope you can help me with.
I was a band geek. But it was cool. You made being a band geek cool.How many band Geeks shake the hand of the President of the United States?
We were a team and you were the head coach.How many head coaches lead more than 300 people to victory?
Personal reasons took me away from the band too early.I missed it every day.My dad, now in his mid 70's, still talks about how proud he was of me. How proud he was that I strived to be my best. You taught me that. You taught all of us to set a goal and pursue it.
I came into the Band in '75 and already had a reputation. Coming into the band out of the 8th grade I was a little intimidated. Ok, downright scared.Did you see it?
You must of.You came up to me my first day and shook my hand. You looked me straight in the eye and said "I've heard a lot about you. I hope it's all true"Did you mean it?
When you said that did you notice my chin get a little higher, my back a little straighter, my knees a little higher?
Did you say that to everyone?
You know when a coach wins a Super Bowl the media likes to say something like. "He is a product of _________: ""He trained under: ________"
So my final question Mr. Heffron is:How may people do you think would be able to say "I'm a product of DOYLE HEFFRON"?
Suddenly that perfect line from the side line while playing "Alud Land Syne" doesn't seem to be the only thing you were after does it?
On second thought Mr. Heffron you don't have to answer these questions I think I know the answers now.
Not sure if you heard it enough. I know I didn't say it. It's not too late. So here goes.
THANK YOU MR HEFFRON
Chris JohnSAX '78
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Reflections
There is no doubt, Doyle left his mark on me, as well. He gave me a chance to be part of something special ( . . . even though I had never played a band instrument until the day my brother brought home this monstrous brass tuba! . . . ) He treated us like adults; he set a high bar for performance, and wouldn't accept second best from any of us. We learned that hard work DOES pay off! . . . . And, when some of us got caught committing the usual 'high school high jinks', he made sure we accepted the consequences for our mis-deeds, but then put it behind and moved on with life. I think lesser men would have given some of us the 'boot', but Doyle stuck by us and gave us the chance to make it up. Through the years, I've tried to be as understanding. . . . This weekend (Labor Day 2008) marks 29 years since I moved to the Twin Cities; hard to believe!! . . . . Looks as if I may be able to attend the 'Meet & Greet'; Hope to see some of you then . . . . Ron
Saturday, August 23, 2008
"Memories from the outside looking in" by W. Gade
That's how it felt for me back then.
Quiet kid...always protected in a way by my "big older brothers" Kim Bruhn (did I also say "LOUD!") and lead piper Dale Johnson. Both guys, among many others, took me under their wing - as so many other Scots did for so many other goofy looking freshmen.
Playing as part of the pipe drum section with Dale and Kim and so many others was a treat because as we all know - drummers are always known for _______________ off (you fill in the blank). We had some serious fun and Dale with the pipes and Kim with the drum squad were both good for leading...in the goofing as well as those many other times when we needed (because Doyle was headed our way with a head of steam) to kick it into gear.
Quiet kid...not always understanding what all the hoopla was about, all the stuff that made the Scots THE SCOTS. Only later did I get it. By nature, I'm still not a shouter and flag waver, but I do get it.
And now 34 years later, having been a band director for over 30 years (and now a music director at a church), teaching kids (mostly middle school...you didn't think I'd be doing all that marching, did ya???? - add smiley) about the "joys" of music and the value in practice and importance or working together for a common goal - I got it!
And while any young musician/athlete/scholar, etc "gets" what it takes to win, to excel, to take center stage...it's seems safe to say that no one who hasn't worn that cockeyed hat/tam and woolie skirt and felt the "chills" of a St. Patrick's parade in Chicago, or the chills when marching with incredible focus down the Main in St. Petersburg or Traverse Bay or standing on stage at Hemmens Auditorium and felt the real CHILLS when Amazing Grace is played - can really get what our combined experiences were really like.
And to think that it took some guy (DH) with a wild idea: to buy some kilts and convince high school aged boys (and girls) that this is what they were going to wear in summer competitions; to teach some pretty decent clarinetists, etc, to give up those horns to play (in tune, even) the pipes; to convince a girl that the drum head really was going to hold her when she was going to dance on it at the center of the field - some would say that old bass drum never was put to better use; to convince a whole town and high school culture that it really was "cool" to be a Scot; to prod a multitude of students to give up tons of time each spring/summer to learn (on a parking lot, no less) drills year after year; to convince moms and dads and kids - not me...remember I was quiet - that it was fun and cool to smell like onions and seasoning for a week after the hoagie sale (and we all know we have never had a sandwich that was as good as those 3 or 4 fresh hoagies we would wolf down the very day they were brought home); to convince young musicians that they really could play soft on a football field...
That took lots of vision, guts, chutzpah, smack - you name it.
I would love to have seen the looks on some of those early faces (Rich Levault/Don Stroup vintage and beyond) when Doyle came up with this wild haired "scheme".
I, and you, if you're reading this, really did get it.
Thanks Doyle, and thanks so mch to the Carl Radde's, all the band semi drivers; and all the screaming drum majors; and Kim and Teresa; and Rich and Don; and Dale J.; and now all these current band geeks and event organizers that keep these memories fresh enough to revive and relive the honor felt by standing together for something better. As a fortunate father of a young musician (9 yr. old piano student, about to start up on a band instrument) I can only hope he gets what I got.
And since my wife knows what it's like to be married to a band goof, my heart also goes out to Judy and her/their children...because their's too was perhaps the greatest sacrifice - Thanks for sticking with a guy with some pretty wild ideas! And, when Doyle first came home to share this "thought", for not saying "Settle down Doyle, it can't/won't work!" Judy, you surely were Doyle's finest idea and best sounding board! Blessings to you!
Alas, I had no intention of writing so much, but quiet guys are sometimes better in writing than speaking.
Looking forward to seeing the faithful in a few weeks.
Peace,
w.gade
Quiet kid...always protected in a way by my "big older brothers" Kim Bruhn (did I also say "LOUD!") and lead piper Dale Johnson. Both guys, among many others, took me under their wing - as so many other Scots did for so many other goofy looking freshmen.
Playing as part of the pipe drum section with Dale and Kim and so many others was a treat because as we all know - drummers are always known for _______________ off (you fill in the blank). We had some serious fun and Dale with the pipes and Kim with the drum squad were both good for leading...in the goofing as well as those many other times when we needed (because Doyle was headed our way with a head of steam) to kick it into gear.
Quiet kid...not always understanding what all the hoopla was about, all the stuff that made the Scots THE SCOTS. Only later did I get it. By nature, I'm still not a shouter and flag waver, but I do get it.
And now 34 years later, having been a band director for over 30 years (and now a music director at a church), teaching kids (mostly middle school...you didn't think I'd be doing all that marching, did ya???? - add smiley) about the "joys" of music and the value in practice and importance or working together for a common goal - I got it!
And while any young musician/athlete/scholar, etc "gets" what it takes to win, to excel, to take center stage...it's seems safe to say that no one who hasn't worn that cockeyed hat/tam and woolie skirt and felt the "chills" of a St. Patrick's parade in Chicago, or the chills when marching with incredible focus down the Main in St. Petersburg or Traverse Bay or standing on stage at Hemmens Auditorium and felt the real CHILLS when Amazing Grace is played - can really get what our combined experiences were really like.
And to think that it took some guy (DH) with a wild idea: to buy some kilts and convince high school aged boys (and girls) that this is what they were going to wear in summer competitions; to teach some pretty decent clarinetists, etc, to give up those horns to play (in tune, even) the pipes; to convince a girl that the drum head really was going to hold her when she was going to dance on it at the center of the field - some would say that old bass drum never was put to better use; to convince a whole town and high school culture that it really was "cool" to be a Scot; to prod a multitude of students to give up tons of time each spring/summer to learn (on a parking lot, no less) drills year after year; to convince moms and dads and kids - not me...remember I was quiet - that it was fun and cool to smell like onions and seasoning for a week after the hoagie sale (and we all know we have never had a sandwich that was as good as those 3 or 4 fresh hoagies we would wolf down the very day they were brought home); to convince young musicians that they really could play soft on a football field...
That took lots of vision, guts, chutzpah, smack - you name it.
I would love to have seen the looks on some of those early faces (Rich Levault/Don Stroup vintage and beyond) when Doyle came up with this wild haired "scheme".
I, and you, if you're reading this, really did get it.
Thanks Doyle, and thanks so mch to the Carl Radde's, all the band semi drivers; and all the screaming drum majors; and Kim and Teresa; and Rich and Don; and Dale J.; and now all these current band geeks and event organizers that keep these memories fresh enough to revive and relive the honor felt by standing together for something better. As a fortunate father of a young musician (9 yr. old piano student, about to start up on a band instrument) I can only hope he gets what I got.
And since my wife knows what it's like to be married to a band goof, my heart also goes out to Judy and her/their children...because their's too was perhaps the greatest sacrifice - Thanks for sticking with a guy with some pretty wild ideas! And, when Doyle first came home to share this "thought", for not saying "Settle down Doyle, it can't/won't work!" Judy, you surely were Doyle's finest idea and best sounding board! Blessings to you!
Alas, I had no intention of writing so much, but quiet guys are sometimes better in writing than speaking.
Looking forward to seeing the faithful in a few weeks.
Peace,
w.gade
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
HOW QUICKLY TIME PASSES!
I can't believe that this much time has gone by! Now seeing all of
these names again makes me feel, in some ways, that it was only
yesterday we were all searching for uniform parts and helping each
other get ready for each performance. As I sit here writing this I
can remember vividly the smell of a school bus full of soaking wet
wool when we were leaving Soldier Field. My two sons look at me
rather oddly as I tear up watching the reunion video and trying to
even explain what those days were like. With one on his way to
college this year and one a senior they have had experiences and made
high school memories I know; however, nothing I have ever encountered
with them seemed to have had the camaraderie that we all had....I
believe that was because of the special man who led us. Actually,
he not only led us but bled with us, cried with us and cheered with
us. We became his children and he became our mentor. The countless
hours on the practice field, the times at the assembly line for
hoagies (which I have never found one to ever compare to ours!) the
bus rides and all of the amazing performances have indelibly been
etched forever inside all of us. I cannot hear a bagpipe or the song
Amazing Grace played to this day without getting goose bumps. Mr.
Heffron brought to a little town in Illinois the most amazing
experience with his belief, commitment and enthusiasm. I know his
own family probably suffered many times for us and hopefully knowing
how many lives he touched will give them comfort in their grief. I
know that all of the lessons learned by his hand made all of us, who
were lucky enough to have been a part of this extraordinary group,
truly blessed.
these names again makes me feel, in some ways, that it was only
yesterday we were all searching for uniform parts and helping each
other get ready for each performance. As I sit here writing this I
can remember vividly the smell of a school bus full of soaking wet
wool when we were leaving Soldier Field. My two sons look at me
rather oddly as I tear up watching the reunion video and trying to
even explain what those days were like. With one on his way to
college this year and one a senior they have had experiences and made
high school memories I know; however, nothing I have ever encountered
with them seemed to have had the camaraderie that we all had....I
believe that was because of the special man who led us. Actually,
he not only led us but bled with us, cried with us and cheered with
us. We became his children and he became our mentor. The countless
hours on the practice field, the times at the assembly line for
hoagies (which I have never found one to ever compare to ours!) the
bus rides and all of the amazing performances have indelibly been
etched forever inside all of us. I cannot hear a bagpipe or the song
Amazing Grace played to this day without getting goose bumps. Mr.
Heffron brought to a little town in Illinois the most amazing
experience with his belief, commitment and enthusiasm. I know his
own family probably suffered many times for us and hopefully knowing
how many lives he touched will give them comfort in their grief. I
know that all of the lessons learned by his hand made all of us, who
were lucky enough to have been a part of this extraordinary group,
truly blessed.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Like Dave (Hi Dave!), I brought so many of Doyle's lessons with me as I moved through life.
Shortly after I became a drum major he told me, "If you have any friends left at the end of this year you won't be doing your job." His prediction scared the daylights out of me at first, but I suspect he said that to challenge me to find a way to do both. From him, I learned that toughness can be combined with kindness. Granted, I didn't really figure that out during my band years, but over and over again I have recalled his words when I needed them the most.
I think Doyle himself was an always-entertaining combination of tough and kind. Remember that penetrating, wordless glare that he saved for those times when all of us knew that some things were better left unsaid? There was no question when we were in trouble, and we nearly always deserved more gruff than we got. At the same time, he could be unquestionably kind. I remember one time in particular when I was in his office while I was dealing with yet another bout of tonsillitis, and he knew before I uttered a word. He told me he could always see it in my eyes.
He taught us the importance of an unrelenting focus on quality. Every line was dressed, every pleat was in place, every note was true. To this day I believe his attention to detail and his drive for success stayed with me as I moved through school and career. I learned that the little things can mean a lot and make the difference between second place and a march to the trophy table.
Most importantly he gave us a sense of belonging, of lasting friendships, and a lifetime of wonderful memories to bind us together. Dave, I remember Molly Mammary (in case you tried to forget). I remember being drug through the boys' shower...can't recall if it was South Milwaukee or Traverse City, but I remember who was caught by surprise (I can be bribed for details). Who can forget dances in St. Pete, visiting the sights in New York, endless practices, or those who were discovered to be 'out of compliance' during kilt checks? How about whistling the theme from Bridge on the River Kwai as we were supposed to be quietly crossing the Oakbrook golf course? There are so many warm, funny and touching memories in our collective history, and Doyle was essentially at the center of all of them. Okay, maybe not the shower.
I was a Scot. I was part of something special, even extraordinary. Thank you Doyle for making that a part of who I am, and who I have become. I will be forever grateful. You were tough, you were kind, you did your job better than anyone, and you will always have friends in the Scots you left behind.
Shortly after I became a drum major he told me, "If you have any friends left at the end of this year you won't be doing your job." His prediction scared the daylights out of me at first, but I suspect he said that to challenge me to find a way to do both. From him, I learned that toughness can be combined with kindness. Granted, I didn't really figure that out during my band years, but over and over again I have recalled his words when I needed them the most.
I think Doyle himself was an always-entertaining combination of tough and kind. Remember that penetrating, wordless glare that he saved for those times when all of us knew that some things were better left unsaid? There was no question when we were in trouble, and we nearly always deserved more gruff than we got. At the same time, he could be unquestionably kind. I remember one time in particular when I was in his office while I was dealing with yet another bout of tonsillitis, and he knew before I uttered a word. He told me he could always see it in my eyes.
He taught us the importance of an unrelenting focus on quality. Every line was dressed, every pleat was in place, every note was true. To this day I believe his attention to detail and his drive for success stayed with me as I moved through school and career. I learned that the little things can mean a lot and make the difference between second place and a march to the trophy table.
Most importantly he gave us a sense of belonging, of lasting friendships, and a lifetime of wonderful memories to bind us together. Dave, I remember Molly Mammary (in case you tried to forget). I remember being drug through the boys' shower...can't recall if it was South Milwaukee or Traverse City, but I remember who was caught by surprise (I can be bribed for details). Who can forget dances in St. Pete, visiting the sights in New York, endless practices, or those who were discovered to be 'out of compliance' during kilt checks? How about whistling the theme from Bridge on the River Kwai as we were supposed to be quietly crossing the Oakbrook golf course? There are so many warm, funny and touching memories in our collective history, and Doyle was essentially at the center of all of them. Okay, maybe not the shower.
I was a Scot. I was part of something special, even extraordinary. Thank you Doyle for making that a part of who I am, and who I have become. I will be forever grateful. You were tough, you were kind, you did your job better than anyone, and you will always have friends in the Scots you left behind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)