I Wish You Were Standing Here With Me...A Post For Tony Jenners

When I was 12 years old, I was walking past a park with my mom when I saw a colorguard warming up. It was a spring day and although I knew what guard was because my brother was in marching band, I didn't have a true understanding of what I was looking at. It was Nashville and it was April. It was WGI. I was looking at a guard warm up for nationals and had no clue. I had no idea what WGI was and I wouldn't have an idea until five years later when it was my turn to warm up for WGI. In 1982, I had never touched a flag pole. I wasn't aware of WGI and I certainly had never heard of the Cavaliers, Grenadiers, or Skylarks. It would take me until 1987 before I would grasp the insanity, the absurdity, and the passion that is called WGI. It would take me even longer before I would grasp the friendship that flows throughout the entire compass of the pageantry activity.

The following year in 1988, I would understand the heart of the activity in ways I hope no one ever again has to understand it. I have written about this before, but it's worth a mention here, because to understand the activity the way I understand the activity, you have to know that you can't truly understand the gifts of life until you understand the pain of loss. At 18, I learned. I learned it through winter guard and I learned it while coming home from a regional as a freak accident took the lives of members of my high school guard. 

In a very fast and painful way, I learned what the activity meant as the outpouring of support came from all over the country. In the band room we had a bulletin board of cards and letters of guards and guard instructors from every aspect of the activity. As this was a time without Facebook and cellphones, the support came through personal letters from guard members we competed against and guard instructors we had never met. At circuit championships not a dry eye was to be found as we received a standing ovation for just entering the gym. It would become one of the most treasured nights of my life as I clung to my teammates and my staff ,while they played our music in front of the crowd. 

Over time the memory faded and the wounds would heal. The friendships though, would never go away. I learned quickly what the gift of pageantry really was. I learned about friendship and trust. I learned what the concept of "team" really meant. I learned about passion and that feeding that passion for me was as important to sustaining life as eating and sleeping is for others. I learned about community and more than anything, I learned about love. I explored all of this and over time would grow to see that the activity is certainly NOT just flags in a gym, but a living, breathing microcosm of the life we should all strive to live. 

I, along with all of my friends are well into double digits of time in the activity. We have taught so many teams that it's all just an amalgam of gyms, football fields, warm-ups, and scores. These people are no longer "colorguard friends," they are simply just, FRIENDS. As with all aspects of life, people come and go. There are bad times to be had, but it makes us appreciate the good. I've been around long enough, that I have reached a time where death is an inevitable part of my amalgam of the activity. We are losing icons, but mostly we are losing our friends. I remember when we lost Ernie Zimny in 2004. The voice of WGI was gone. I remember losing Patty Stetson, one of the best techs to ever grace a flag block. She was the first person that I remember whose death was reported through Facebook. I knew then what an impact social media could have on our activity as I read memories and prayers beings sent over the internet on a national scale. Facebook changed how we interacted with each other as an activity. When many say social media removes the human element, I believe the complete opposite. It has brought our activity together. We are able to offer condolences in real time and share memories with people we knew 20 years ago. We are able to offer a closure of the loss through those connections.

I remember when the FFCC lost Sue Taylor and Jon Kersten; both leaving a mark on the activity in their own way and leaving an irreplaceable hole in our hearts. There have been so many. Some I knew and some I didn't, but I valued all of them and loved reading the memories that are shared. Everyone who ever taught a count, sewed a flag, balanced a budget, sold a candy bar, placed a number on a tote sheet, or volunteered in a souvenir booth left a mark and left a legacy. We have lost members of our activity to AIDS, accidents, cancer, aging, and even suicide. I remember losing Donnie from Alliance to suicide and I remember wondering how he slipped through our fingers and out of our lives when so many people loved him.

The one person that brought all of this home to me however, was Tony Jenners. Tony and I literally knew each other for less than 2 years before he passed. Our bond however, was undeniable. From rehearsals to cocktails, Tony and I shared our dreams and disappointments of the activity. He even babysat my 2 year old, while I went to judge one Saturday. (Now THAT is a friend for you!!) He was a true friend and I will never forget the day when he called me to tell me he didn't have much time left. I actually didn't believe him. I didn't want to believe him. I should have gone to Houston to say goodbye, but Tony was a beautiful light and lights like his just don't burn out, or at least that's what I wanted to believe. I didn't go to Houston and he died a week later. I was devastated, but that devastation didn't last long, because the support and memories shared of Tony were amazing. He was one of the biggest pageantry fans to ever grace our activity. He loved everybody. He loved the struggling guards and struggling corps the most. He always wanted to help them and support them. He had such adoration for the people of this activity that he helped start the Colorguard Historical Society. He wanted to keep our history for future generations. His legacy still graces Facebook today.

I write this post for Tony and for Patty. I write for Ernie, Sue, Jon, and the amazing people I never knew, but who left their mark on an activity that reaches thousands. I write this for Rob Strain who we lost just a couple of weeks ago. I write this for Orlando Suttles who we lost today. We can't stop the hands of time, but the outpouring of love expressed across the miles has certainly made those moments of time precious and more bearable. Pageantry is not about drum corps, marching band, or winter guard. Pageantry is about friends and the memories we share with each other as we welcome in a new generation at the start of each season.

The past two weeks have been a hard one for the WGI community, but the love and friendship expressed in those hard times has only made us closer and we are all better people for it. I have grown to realize something very important to me.  Pageantry people are beautiful lights that can never burn out and that is the true beauty of our activity. We are all lights that brighten each other's lives and because of the pageantry arts our lights will never dim.

This used to be my playground (used to be)

This used to be my childhood dream

This used to be the place I ran to

Whenever I was in need of a friend

Whenever I was in need
Of a friend
Why did it have to end
And why do they always say

Don't look back
Keep your head held high
Don't ask them why
Because life is short

And before you know
You're feeling old
And your heart is breaking
Don't hold on to the past
Well that's too much to ask

Live and learn
Well the years they flew
And we never knew
We were foolish then
We would never tire
And that little fire
Is still alive in me
It will never go away
Can't say goodbye to yesterday (can't say goodbye)

 

No regrets
But I wish that you
Were here with me
Well then there's hope yet
I can see your face
In our secret place
You're not just a memory
Say goodbye to yesterday (the dream)
Those are words I'll never say (I'll never say)

This used to be our playground (used to be)
This used to be our childhood dream
This used to be the place we ran to
I wish you were standing here with me

Don't hold on to the past.

WELL THAT'S TOO MUCH TO ASK