What follows are the reflections of
the students and adults who traveled to New Orleans.

They are posted in the order received.

- nobody got hurt,
- nobody got sick,
- we didn't leave anybody down there,
- we all got along great,
- we played 7 concerts in 3 days and each one was better than the day before,
- we ate some great food without knowing what it was,
- we saw an alligator, some snakes in a beautiful swamp,
- we worked on three or four houses in Musicians' Village,
- we played a concert in Musicians' Village with real "legends" of the jazz world watching, and they really clapped for us,
- we met the future homeowners of the houses we built or painted,
- we saw some of us "sit in" to play with the pros at "Snug Harbor" (jazz club in NO),
- we met and talked to Tom Piazza, the author of the book that everyone read (or was supposed to read),
- we painted inside and outside walls and our shirts,
- we took cold showers at Camp Hope and we didn't complain, ever,
- we slept in big rooms with MANY others from around the country,
- we ate Camp Hope food prepared by AmeriCorps people who weren't much older than many of us,
- we met AmeriCorps people and learned that they are really serious about helping others more than they are wanting something tangible in return,
- we learned how to hammer a nail, put up siding, cut with a power saw and more,
- we learned how to tear down things that we messed up and rebuild them again,
- we made some new friends and felt real love at a New Orleans Baptist Church service,
- we performed live on TV.... http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/?rn=4226712&cl=7118570&src=news

- we videotaped a piece for the TV station's Holiday Special to be aired next December,
- we got to hear a man named "Pickles" try to say the word "boiled", but it still sounded like he was saying "bald",
- we got sunburned,
- we saw in Jeff Coffin how we can someday be a superstar, but still be just another guy,
- we got really, really tired, but still got up and worked or performed some more,
- we had culture shock on Bourbon Street,
- we raised enough money to actually build an entire house for someone in New Orleans that we will probably never meet,
- we wrote things with sharpies on a house we built,
- we played with a guy name "Chaz" and heard him play the rub board as if he had invented it,
- we saw some inner-city New Orleans kids come to a concert looking tough and depressed, and saw them leave with smiles carrying their prom dresses and tuxes,
- we were heard on jazz radio station many times when they played our CDs,
- we followed the rules and kept positive,
- we had nights with as much as 6 hours sleep and as little as 4, 
- we practiced for the demands of this trip by staying awake all night at our marathon concert,
- we were told we had to write a paper about the trip or get a "B" for the quarter,
- we ate crawfish in every possible manner it could be cooked,
- we met and had fun with other young people from around the country at Camp Hope,
- we looked silly walking off the plane and in O'Hare wearing our crawfish hats,
- we saw how bad off New Orleans still is more than 2 years after "the storm",
- we sailed on a riverboat and heard some really good Dixieland players,
- we ate Biegnets at Cafe Du Monde,
- we played on used donated instruments and made them sound good,
- we did some things that we will never be able to do again as long as we live,
- we learned than anyone of us can do great things if we just take the first step,
- we learned just how hard we could push ourselves without breaking, and then pushed some more,
- we learned that "giving" is MUCH more rewarding and fun than "receiving",
- we were part of American history in doing something to rebuild a great city in need,
- we learned that being blessed has a completely different meaning down there than it does up here,
- and we touched more people in more ways than we will ever know.

At some level and in some ways, we will never be the same again, and that feels really good.

Jim Warrick, (Director)

Sharing a quote I had read long ago (You can count the number of seeds in an apple, but you can never count the number of apples in a seed.), I told the travelers I expected we would be planting seeds in New Orleans .  Even if it seemed our efforts were merely a drop in the bucket, so to speak, they could grow to bear fruit we could not even begin to imagine.  What I did not expect, however, was that the experience, the people, even New Orleans itself, would plant such seeds in us.  But that is what happened.  I believe that deep within each of us who made this journey, there are planted seeds that have profoundly affected us and that will grow up in ways we can’t imagine.  Some of the seeds may lie dormant for a while; others are already beginning to sprout.  Many of us feel a deep connection with New Orleans , and a strong desire to continue the work.  Many have had the desire to serve ignited within them.  Some have learned profound truths, some have been touched by the warmth of the people, the “warm fuzzies” of lending a hand to someone in need.  Only time will tell all the lessons learned and all the fruit that will come from this journey, but we already realize we have been part of something bigger than ourselves, and that makes it all worth while.

- Judy Warrick (chaperone)

Unloading donated instruments in New Orleans
(photo by Alan Kalmikoff)

Happiness comes in the act of giving...by instilling happiness unto
others one can in turn receive happiness...

That was the underlying idea that drove me this whole trip.
Everywhere I went, I gave it my all so that I can put a smile on a
person's face-even if that meant ONLY one person.  Changing the life
of one person meant changing the life of a world; a small world but
nonetheless a world full of hope and opportunity.  And in the span of
a very short week, I devoted my whole being to changing a
world...perhaps even multiple worlds.

I still cannot grasp the magnitude of the images and experiences I was
embedded in.  New Orleans...there is much to say about that city; it
is beautiful, vibrant, lively, full of hope and passion, flamboyant.
But at the same time it is a clouded city, full of shame and horror,
and somewhat lacking the order and hope of other cities.  But what I
saw in New Orleans was nothing less than magnificent.  Sure, it's not
a perfect city but it's New Orleans.  What more can you ask for?

I am trying to collect my thoughts and express it in coherent
sentences but for some reason I cannot do so.  I am not a man of few
words-I can assure that-but for New Orleans took away all of
that...no, she didn't take away anything, she just instilled so much
in me that it is too overwhelming.

But if there is anything I learned, it is the statement that was
prevalent throughout the whole trip.  Tom Piazza asked us to spread
the story about New Orleans...I have hopefully begun to do that.

- Hiro Kawashima (senior -  tenor saxophone)

Painting one of "our" houses in Musicians' Village 
(Photo by Caitlin Warrick)

My thoughts on the trip to New Orleans are riddled with joy. To watch a group of young people enter a situation that is completely foreign to them and to come thru it with such dignity, grace, compassion, understanding and all the while giving so much of themselves is remarkable. I have been around many situations in my life and I have seen the best and the worst of people. On every level, I feel I witnessed their best on this trip.

I loved that the students were completely exhausted during the early morning taping for the TV show and yet they kept their humor. It was one of those “living the dream” moments that we all shared because they were tired and it was COLD in the taping room…a recipe for a bad time, but they came thru it great and with praise heaped on them from the staff at the station. 

This group of young people rallied together and pushed each other and hugged each other and supported each other and ultimately inspired each other every day I saw them. To watch some of them on site at Musicians Village was a treat and also a bit humorous. I know some of them had never done anything like that kind of work before but they were there doing it and learning and sweating, getting sunburned and facing a challenge that was not only benefiting themselves but many others.

On Tuesday, when the students went back to Camp Hope, New Trier’s Principal Debbie, her daughter Joy and I ventured into the French Quarter for a sight-seeing trek. They had never been. Debbie and I had a great laugh at watching Joy experience her 1st crawfish boil….she did great! (sort of…) We visited Congo Square, the French Market, Café du Monde and we ate sugar coated beignets in ear shot of a local band that consisted of tuba, violin and drums…not to mention the guy who was playing the broom!!! Only in New Orleans…

Everywhere we went, people spoke privately to me about how amazing this group of students was. One person even called them all “nerds” but in a most affectionate way…meaning they were goofy and silly and well mannered and polite and thoughtful and all the characteristics we hope people in the world will have.

Other highlights for me….I loved watching the sax section sit on cinder blocks for stools at their concert in Musicians Village and of having my friend and NOLA trombonist Rick Trolsen sit in at Tips for 2 shows…and Washboard Chaz, he’s something else on that “rub board”……to listen how the band got stronger musically as they got stronger as a group of people was fascinating and affirming…to witness the cohesion, attention to detail and stay-out-of-the-wayness of Jim Warrick was remarkable also. He allows the right amount of “stretch” to the students and treats them as equals but he also keeps them in line with humor, attention and lots of love…he is a  teacher of the highest caliber.

It was great to be able to build with drummer Tom Chute at the Habitat site too. It was his house we were building. To help build someone’s house with the person who will be living there was a moving experience. To meet other volunteers from around the country was an honor as well.

In my opinion, being a good person is way more important than being a good musician and these are good people. I am humbled to have been a part of something so wonderful…I am thankful to have been witness to the kindness that these students brought with them from Chicago.  I am honored to have worked beside them and I am filled with joy when I think of all the people these students and adults alike touched because they cared enough to take a step out of their comfort zone. I thank each and every one of you for your brightness and altruism. You will always shine bright in my eyes.

- Jeff Coffin (guest performer)

Performing at Tipitina's in the French Quarter
(photo by Tim Estberg)

The fondest memory I have and will keep of this trip was of our concert at Musician's Village. Before that concert, I hadn't seen many, if any, of the residents in the village. However, nothing got them out of their houses like a live concert. Seeing everyone come out of their houses to come watch us really made me feel loved. I could also tell that they enjoyed it as much as we did. One woman standing on her porch said to her friend: "I thought this was going to be a sit down kind of thing, but I can't sit down when I hear good music." The memory of that one woman dancing and clapping to the music, saying what she said, and just the smile on her face will never leave me.

     One of my fears was that it would be awkward and unwelcome to play New Orleans style music IN NEW ORLEANS, and that we'd be booed of the stage. To my surprise, though, that music was received the best by the audience. During our concert at Ray's Boom-Boom Room, one of the cooks/bartenders said to me, "Man, you guys sound like you was born in New Orleans!" Hearing him say that just made me feel so much more welcome. The people were so kind and outgoing down there, I felt more welcome there than I sometimes do here. That is also something that I will take with me for the rest of my life.

- Andrew Clinkman (junior- guitar)

New Orlean's high school student performing with
Jazz Ensemble I at Tipitina's in the French Quarter
(Photo by Tim Estberg)

The most meaningful part of the trip to me was having the opportunity to sit down and talk to Tom, the future owner of the house we were working on.  He was working with us all day to frame, sheath, and side his house, including the many times that we screwed up or had to redo a board or heard Evan say "It should be fine..."  I didn't even realize that he was the owner until someone told me at around three o'clock.  When I found that out, I started talking to him, and at one point I asked him if it was weird seeing his house being built from the ground up by a couple of kids (including our 20-ish year old foreman).  He answered, "Yeah, I guess it's pretty weird, but it's still much better than I could do by myself.  I'm just so grateful that you all came down to help."

Like most people, my image of Katrina victims before this trip was the Superdome filled with thousands of people or the flooded Lower Ninth Ward with people stranded on the rooftops.  At that moment, though, it changed.  Tom was a regular guy, just like us, a professional drummer in New Orleans before Katrina.  That could have been (or could be) the position of anyone in our band.  He was grateful for any little help we could give, because we happened to be in a position to give and he in need.  I'm sure if our roles were reversed Tom would have done exactly the same.  I'm glad that in meeting Tom, I had an opportunity to share the "musician love" from Illinois down to New Orleans.  Hopefully, Tom will soon have to opportunity to pass it on to someone else. 

- Ben Siegfried (senior- bass)

Mike Fatum solos with Jazz Ensemble I at
Tipitina's in the French Quarter
(photo by Tim Estberg)

- Cody Fry (senior- pianist/vocalist)

Nickolas Kaplan solos with Jazz Ensemble I
before 600 Habitat for Humanity volunteers
at Camp Hope
(photo by Caitlin Warrick)

Painting in Musicians' Village
(photo by Caitlin Warrick)

In no way did I ‘sacrifice’ my spring break to take the trip down to New Orleans with Jazz 1. In fact, from the minute I arrived at school on Saturday March 22, I felt a sense of community that would make the trip very fun. It was fun, and for me and most likely the other trip members, the fun did not only come from spending time with one another in the French Quarter.

For me, the trip had a few aspects that made it the best spring break I have ever had. The first one was the concerts that we played. After a rough start to our trip with a mediocre performance at Tipitina’s on Monday morning, the group began to produce the sound that made it the nation’s best high school jazz ensemble. Not only did we sound great for the remaining concerts, but also we attracted locals to play with us. This was an incredible experience. Those people lost almost everything to Hurricane Katrina, but when they came up to play a chorus or two with us, I felt as if music may have never left New Orleans. They played with so much spirit and gratefulness that it increased the energy of the band members and made playing our charts seven times different and more enjoyable each time.

The second aspect was the Habitat for Humanity work we did. As each nail was put in, as each frame was constructed, and as each wall was sheathed I felt that what we were doing was extremely important. Hearing of the donation that Brad Pitt was making to the reconstruction effort, I looked past the money. I wondered if Pitt himself was going to work on any of the houses he was donating to. No matter how much money he donated, he would not have the same experience constructing the houses manually. Holding up boards of particleboard while my friends nailed them in to the frame of the house, I felt a sense of teamwork and pride in my effort. I felt that pouring my sweat into the house and even getting the sunburn was part of an unforgettable experience. If everyone in the world, or even just in the United States donated just a day  (or three) to rebuilding the damage done from Katrina, I’d bet that New Orleans would be running full-steam in less than a month.

Even though we toured through the 9^th Ward and saw the devastation, I saw a side of New Orleans that strongly resembled its pre-Katrina state: the French Quarter. From the moment we started the River walk and lined up for beignets at Café du Monde, I could see the New Orleans residents’ outlooks for the future. It was one that looked past Katrina; it looked past sorrow and grief and focused on cheering people up.  As my friends and I toured the streets, we saw many aspects of the French Quarter culture: shops, bars, nightclubs, restaurants, and parades that could entertain anybody. I saw laughing faces and people enjoying themselves. I even saw families with small children who found things to do in the French Quarter. I new that the area was not as devastated as the 9^th Ward, but I also knew that the French Quarter was a refuge from the disaster.

I have never felt as warm inside as I did in New Orleans, and it was not just the nice weather that made me feel this way. I had always been involved in charity acts before: feeding the poor, helping those with disabilities, and giving a growing sum of money to different organizations. Never have I felt as good about myself as I did after the Habitat work and concerts that I participated in on the trip. Seeing the locals light up as we played each note made the trip amazing for me. Knowing that soon Tom Chute will have a permanent place to live makes me feel really good about the efforts we made to make dreams reality.

- Aaron Palmer (junior- bass)

Performing for 250 NOLA high school and junior high students
at Tipitiana's in the French Quarter
(Photo by Caitlin Warrick)

I have to admit that before I arrived in NOLA, I couldn’t really see how things in the city still went wrong 2 ½ years after Katrina. Partially, I was right. The French Quarter continued to flourish with culture and personality as I walked its streets. What I didn’t understand is that most everything but the French Quarter seems completely untouched since the storm. I thought to myself before our departure, ‘It can’t be that bad. Sure, I’ve seen pictures of destroyed homes, like in Warrick’s video we saw before we left, but all of them can’t be like that, can they?’ My ignorance of the issue led me to a huge surprise when we landed.

It was Saturday night (The night of our arrival), and the jazz kids had just finished eating at the Golden Corral. We had just boarded Cleo, our bus, and drove off to Camp Hope . The sky was black, and it was only about 7 o’ clock. As Mr. Pickles (Our Driver/ Tour Guide) drove off, he began explaining some of the damage inflicted on the Lower-Ninth Ward by Katrina. I felt a little disappointed because I couldn’t see any of the things he spoke of outside of the window, and I felt my duty to speak of the devastation back at home. ‘Oh well,’ I thought. ‘I’ll get to see plenty of it tomorrow when the lighting isn’t a problem.’ The bus exited the expressway, and into St. Bernard’s Parish, an area which was flooded with 22 feet of water at one point. The voice of Mr. Pickles interrupted the smooth jazz playing over the intercom. “Look outside now,” he said. “You see all of the street lights? These lights are the only source of light occupying the Lower Ninth Ward. You do see that some houses have lights on, but the ratio of occupants to deserted houses is about 1:10.” I looked outside. It was only 7 PM and rows and rows of houses had no lights on. The bus kept moving, and all I saw out of the window were more and more deserted houses. I felt like we were driving through a ghost town. There wasn’t an end in sight. The fact that the Lower Ninth Ward looked untouched 2 ½ years after Katrina angered me. My anger subsided after I saw row upon row of more deserted houses. At that point, I just felt sick to my stomach and tears built up in my eyes. Driving through this same scene in daylight wouldn’t give me as much of an idea of how many people still live in NOLA, because you can’t really tell who’s home and who’s not. At this point, I knew. I knew how many people left and never came back. The numbers of devastated homes seemed infinite. For me, this bus ride gave me more of a sense of what happened after Katrina than thousands of destroyed houses in daylight ever could.

The future didn’t seem bright after my first look at NOLA that night. I thought about it frequently, and the image of desertion appeared in my dreams. I realized, however, that recognizing the problem is the first step to solving it. The band wasn’t in NOLA to just look at the trashed homes and stare from afar thinking, “That’s too bad.” We were here to help, which brings me to my next life-changing story.

As a student co-head of the prom dress project, my most exciting moment was finding out that we were to hand out prom dresses and tuxes during our concerts at Tipitina’s as an incentive for kids to come. It was the day of the concert. Mr. Warrick informed us that an assortment of kids our age from 10 different schools would be attending our performance. Our band had finished warming up and it was our time to congregate with the guests. During this little break, Natalie and I decided to see the room in which the prom dresses were distributed. We walked up the stairs and saw tables piled with the 500 dresses we took down, but that’s not all. Natalie and I gazed upon about a dozen girls, giggling like crazy while picking out dresses, modeling for their friends, and remarking on how their friends looked in their new getups. Since a completely new group of girls arrived after this first set, Natalie and I felt it was our duty to inform the others. We approached a group of girls sitting in the audience. Awkwardly, we spoke: “You know, there are some free prom dresses upstairs. Would any of you be interested in trying some on?” There was a pause.

“Are you f*****g around with me?” one girl asked.

“Not at all,” we replied. Her eyes widened. Her friends had the same reaction.

“Let’s go, then!” she exclaimed. The girl and her friends shimmied their way into the aisle and followed our lead into the prom dress room, trying not to run.

 For this one moment, there seemed to be hope for New Orleans . As I gazed at the smiling teenagers, I couldn’t help but smile as well. I felt that my time spent working on the project had been completely worthwhile

Overall, I had an amazing experience. Even if I hesitated to do the manual labor at first, I ended up having the best time with building the house. We were all hot, sweaty, tired, and sunburned, and I’ve probably never had more fun. I felt that this project was time well spent, and definitely one of the most rewarding experiences in my life. I’ll probably never look at a “relaxing family vacation” to some tropical island in the same way again. Instead of lounging around in some resort, I feel that I can be more productive and help others doing something similar to the NOLA project with my free time. This experience definitely makes me want to work at Americorps during my summers/ spring breaks/ any free vacation time I have. Mr. Warrick said that it was better to be a giver than a taker, and I wholeheartedly agree now that I gave up some of my time, to help others in need.

I would like to add as my final remark that I spent my break with a hilarious, fantastic, and caring group of kids (and adults). I wouldn’t have felt the same about this trip with any other group of people. You all have altered my life, whether you think so or not, and have made this NOLA experience phenomenal. Thanks.

- Carrie Furniss (sophomore- trombone)

New Orleans high school saxophone player solos with
Jazz Ensemble I at Tipitina's in the French Quarter
(photo by Caitlin Warrick)

The most important thing I experienced during the trip was to see a first hand account of human resiliency in action.  The sheer devastation we witnessed in the city was unbelievable.  From the eerily lightless ninth ward to the empty strip malls to the spray painted X’s on house fronts, it seems like the hurricane hit two months ago, not two and a half years ago.  I heard several indivual accounts of the storm’s devastation on personal lives, from Pearl in St. Bernard to Charlie in Slidell.  Their stories were haunting.  It seems near impossible that they are even functional today. 

However, I also witnessed why these individuals are functioning.  I never realized before this before, but I witnessed on this trip healing through interpersonal relationships.  For example, the woes of recovery from Katrina seemed forgotten by the joyful members of the Sixth Baptist church.  The same can be said about the festivities at the crawfish fest. When people get together, they can use each other’s presence to transcend the scars of the past.  I witnessed this communal healing in New Orleans, the place that it is still needed most. 

By actually going down there and putting in not only money, but face time, with the people of New Orleans, by going to Easter Church, by eating at the Crawfish Fest, by building a house, we took part in this communal healing and hopefully made impacts on lives that go deeper than any material donation.

- Anonymous (student traveler)

Nighttime concert at Tipitina's in the French Quarter
(Photo by Caitlin Warrick)

I definitely think this trip was a very positive experience for everyone that went on it.  Although we made several sacrifices during the whole thing, I think the fact that we didn’t really mind them was what showed how much being there really meant.  For me, there were two distinct really cool moments.  One was walking from musician’s village to a little grocery to get food and seeing kids outside on their lawns thank us as we walked there, and then sitting on the curb eating and cars would stop, roll down their windows, and tell us how much they appreciated us being there.  The other really cool moment was the musicians village concert we played and seeing all of these old schools guys come and sit in with us and listening to how smooth their playing still is (and getting up-staged big time by Washboard Chaz).  My only wish is that people appreciated our presence as much as we anticipated them to.  We met an incredible amount of interesting people (such as foreman Evan, who is getting his M.D. then moving to Africa to open up a clinic) that have put huge chunks of their lives into doing this, and it is incredibly inspiring for all.  It was also great to get to know our younger chaperones as well and I think we all owe them a great thanks for being there and helping out so much (Mr. Estberg, Doc, and Nic Meyer).  Though the purpose of this trip essentially had nothing to do with core teambuilding, I think the fact that we were all there working together really did bring the ensemble much closer together to get to know our peers, and many of us would not have been given this opportunity had it not been for the absolutely insane amount of work that has been done by Mr. Warrick, and we all owe him more thanks than can be expressed.  Of course, there are still parts of New Orleans that are in horrible shape, and much needs to be done for these areas, but progress was noticeable, and that is a very big thing.  Though we did not even get three full days to work on the house, it was good to get our feet wet in what this whole project really is, and it was especially great to be working on it with Tom, who will be living there once it is built.  All around, great experience, great people, great food, great music, and great times.

- Jeff Garoon (senior- aux. percussion)

Putting up the front wall in "Tom's" new house in Musicians' Village.
(Photo by Caitlin Warrick)

I was as many of you know the co-videographer/sound engineer/ and roadie. This trip impacted me in many ways. I have for a long time been going to jazz concerts at New Trier as well as concerts in other places. But until I had one to New Orleans and heard peoples reactions to Jazz 1, I had never realized how lucky we are. We have great music teachers, great facilities that are practically always open for use, as well as instruments and various other things that are right there available for us to use. Because of all of this, we have a lot of help and room to be great and go far. We also have a great history of greatness in music, that always drives us to succeed. So I went to New Orleans and saw the reactions to the people there and realized that Jazz 1 is really special and extremely talented, WWL-TV channel four news claimed that they were one of the best high school jazz ensembles in the country. When I heard this it really hit me that they were really talented and I was very lucky to be a part of all of it. In addition to the news channel the people there had always came up to the students, Mr. Warrick and even me and my partner and equal in all of this Mark Hafter just to tell us how good they all are, and some people even said how we changed their lives just by hearing them play and seeing all of the work that has been done to help everybody in New Orleans. New Orleans has taught me to be very thankful of what I am a part of and lucky to have gotten to go with them.

- Matt Gross (junior- tour support)

Performing in Musicians' Village with resident, CHAZ, who played washboard.
(Photo by Caitlin Warrick)

This trip was special for me for a lot of reasons. There are the obvious things of great value, such as the incredible music that we were able to perform so many times. The concerts that we played on this trip were some of the best concerts that I have ever played. Our Camp Hope concert is easily my most memorable concert ever. I am trying to work out why they were so important, and the only reason that I can think of is the reason behind all of the music. Our purposeful mission gave our music meaning and depth. We were driven. We were invested. We were ready to give far more than usual. The results of our mission were easily audible. There was also the amazing food that New Orleans had to offer. Beignets and Po-boys filled the trip and were icing on the delectable cake that was our trip. It is amazing that a city can have so much culture and character that it is known worldwide for its food as well as its music. There was also a great surge of humanity that was felt throughout the trip. The feeling of achievement that I felt on the third day of building our house was incredible. But the most valuable parts of the trip for me were the moments where the band really came together as one and overcame the obstacles. A moment in particular comes to mind. We were on the bus, driving back from the concert we saw after performing at Ray’s Boom Boom Room. It was late, and we were scheduled to wake up at 6:15 to head over to the habitat house to work. Mr. Warrick is talking on the PA, talking about how we were later than expected. He says that he was going to go to the worksite at the regular time tomorrow to explain our tardiness, while we were to come an hour later to grab some extra sleep. He starts moving on to other logistics when someone interjects. “Why don’t we just go at the regular time?” The bus unanimously agreed in moments, and that was that. The sense of unity and spirit that we achieved by the end of this trip will never leave me.

- Anonymous (student traveler)

Performing with saxophonist, Jeff Coffin, in  Musicians' Village
(Photo by Caitlin Warrick)

Some of the 400 donated instruments we
delivered to New Orleans
(Photo by Alan Kalmikoff)

While aboard the Creole Queen Steamboat, I had the opportunity to ask Tom Piazza, the author of Why New Orleans Matters, a question that had been burning in the back of my mind.

“Mr. Piazza, when we go back home, what is it that you, as a New Orleans resident, would want me to tell people? What message would you want us to convey to people who have not yet experienced New Orleans.”

Very candidly, Mr. Piazza leaned forward, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Tell them what you think. Tell them what you experienced. Tell them what you see.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

There are many things that I will remember in New Orleans.

 I will certainly remember the food: the alligator sausage, fried shrimp with ketchup and hot sauce, Po Boys bigger than your head, Gumbo, and Frank’s Baked Louisiana. And who could forget sucking on Crawfish heads with 20 of your best friends and letting the blood run down your wrist like the grease on a New York City pizza.

I will never forget Bourbon Street, with it’s drag Easter Parade, drunk tourists, strip clubs, alcoholic beverages bigger than the Po Boys that were bigger than your head, and the beads that fell from the sky like drops of rain.

I will never forget Café Du Moin. I will never forget Café Du Moin. I will never forget Café Du Moin.

And who could forget our performances! Each time the band sounded better and better. More importantly, the band seemed to grow looser by the performance, and at the end, we were all hootin’, hollerin’, and dancing on the bandstand as if we were from New Orleans or somethin’.

None the less, no matter how good the food tasted, how incredible the sights we saw, or how well we played, we went to New Orleans for people, and it is the people of New Orleans that I will treasure forever.

While I could write for days about all of the characters that we met, I chose to tell the story of how the Sunday morning easter church service impacted my life, and the kinds of characters that we encountered that morning.

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The first time I truly experienced the New Orleans spirit was on Easter Sunday at the black Baptist Church. The drive to the church was painfully eye-opening. It was the first time that we could look out of the bus window into daylight, and the amount of destruction was overwhelming. Questions sprouted in my mind like spring flowers: Where had all these people gone? How come we don’t hear about New Orleans anymore? Where was all the help, the cranes, the construction crews?

Home after home was destroyed. Business after business was completely gone. I couldn’t stop thinking about how screwed the people of New Orleans were, especially the poor, black, New Orleans residents of the Lower 9^th Ward and St. Bernard’s Parish.

By the time we got to Church, I had a list of questions for God that was longer than the bus. But as the Church service started, I slowly began to understand why the people of New Orleans had not given up the fight. Packed like sardines in hard wood pews, the whole neighborhood spilled into the Church, most wearing the finest suits and easter dresses that I had ever seen.

Then, without notice, they began to hold hands in prayer and sing.

 I looked for a hymnal, but there was none. Instead I found the people of this wrecked community smiling! There voices rebounded off of my chest, so powerful that they could have blown the roof off. I was not one person in an ocean of people, I was a brick in a wall of soul, and we were a strong wall.

Towards the beginning of the service a middle-aged black woman made her way to the front of the room, and took hold of the mike. Over the groove of the house band, and shouts from spirited community members, she asked us to bow our heads in prayer. It was her words that would set the tone for the entire trip. Her words erased any questions that I might have had, and doubts that I may have contained.

“Dear God, you are a gracious and forgiving God. Oh God, I said, you are a gracious and forgiving God!!”

 I raised my head and watched as she continued.

“We have been through a lot in this community.”

“Amen,” shouted the old women in the front rows.

“We’ve had a hurricane destroy our homes, divide our families, and take our loved ones!”

                “

Yes we have!!!” An elderly man to my left rocked back and forth.

“We have debts to pay off, our schools are in terrible shape, and our neighborhood isn’t safe… and yet…we’re still here! We’re still here…….aren’t we?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Was I really about to hear these people thank…..

“Oh God, thank you for your blessings! It is only for the Grace of God that we are here, and isn’t that a beautiful thing!!! Look at all that we have to be thankful for!! Look outside, Isn’t it a beautiful day to be alive?”

I struggled to hold back the tears. We were surrounded by people who were in some of the most desperate situations in the whole country. They were short on cash, out of homes, stuck in gang violence and tied down with debt, and yet they had more hope than any group of people I had ever encountered. Not only did they have hope, but they gave thanks for the little that they did have, and it was these two startling facts that brought tears to my eyes.

I lowered my head as the chorus rang out like angels and the room broke out into a rockin’ new hymn. I lowered my head to hide the tears that were swelling up in my eyes. Now I understood why New Orleans was so important. Now I understood the significance of everything that we had done. Now I understood that we must never forget New Orleans.

- Michael Fatum (senior - trumpet)

Some more of the 400 donated instruments we
delivered to New Orleans
(Photo by Alan Kalmikoff)

“So uh… Mr. Warrick, I run a lot. Where do you think I’ll be able to run when we’re down in New Orleans ?” I asked.

“Well, there’s a field behind the camp. I guess you could run there if you needed,” Warrick said, fumbling with a stack of revised schedules.

“About how big would you say the field is?”

 “Oh it’s real big, about the size of a softball field maybe. But you don’t really need a whole lot of space, right? You can just run back and forth, right?” His question was a common one. I wanted to explain to Mr. Warrick that running back and forth across a softball field for and hour would be possibly the most mind numbing activity in the world. But rather than explain the intricacies of distance running to someone who was far too busy, I gave a half nod and mumbled something unintelligible. In my mind I was replaying the last to summers that I spent running circles around Birch Creek music camp and was hell-bent on never doing anything like that again.

Sunday morning I woke up, threw on some shorts, woke up Danny and went out for a run. We decided, as a formality, to start by running a loop around the “softball field” because, if Warrick ever came up to us and asked us where we ran, we didn’t want our answer to be 100% lies.

The “softball field” itself was garbage. There were sinkholes and rocks and every fire ant on the planet lived in that small plot of land. Frankly, there’s no way anyone could have played a softball game or any game for that matter there. They all would have broken their ankles and then been murdered by fire ants.

Danny and I then jogged cautiously out to the street and ran along the sidewalk. One of the first houses we passed had a caved in roof and shattered windows. The white paint was chipped mostly off and it seemed that no one had cut the grass in two and a half years. A large tree lay dead and bare across the yard. On one side of the house there was a large spray painted X surrounded by numerals and letters advertising the number of dead people inside and the troop that cleared out the house years before.

As we continued down the sidewalk we saw dilapidated house after dilapidated house sometimes broken up by a great big brand new white one that towered over everything, wearing its picket fence and fleet of Ford F150’s like a badge.

Off in the distance a red pick up truck came speeding toward us. Danny and I waived and were somewhat surprised when the driver waived back. It wasn’t a half-hearted waive either, he leaned over the passenger’s seat, arm extended, making certain we saw him.

When the sidewalk finally ran out we ran on the right side of the road. We ran past a miniature swap that acted like a moat for a small white barn that had “Baptist Church” scrawled on its side. The water was a cloud of deep green algae with small trees sprouting from the muck. Fish poked their heads up and gulped at the air, ducks scooted carefully into the water, frogs sat leisurely on hanging tree branches. The little swamp was teeming with life. I looked up and saw three uninhabited houses in a row, decimated by the storm. ‘Let’s get some nails and bring some people back here.’ 

- Drew Hansen (senior - trumpet)

Even more of the 400 donated instruments we
delivered to New Orleans
(Photo by Alan Kalmikoff)

I have a blister on my middle finger from the labors involved with building a home. Consulting with Dr. Horbal,  we decided amputation was not necessary. Nonetheless,  I think I will now have a permanent physical memento of my senior year spring break- certainly my most enjoyable spring break in memory. But seriously, I won’t need a scare to remember our New Orleans trip. This philanthropic voyage has afforded me so many great experiences and memories, encapsulated in our collective humongous photo gallery, that I will no doubt think of this week whenever later in life I think of my high school experience.

Somehow, all of Mr. Warrick’s crazy ideas fell into place perfectly during that week (it’s no real mystery though, just Mr. Warrick’s affinity to staying up late with his Blackberry). The flow of one event into another was so well planned that I never felt rushed, bored, or uneasy. If ever a school band trip is to be planned, NT NOLA 2008 should be the new benchmark in sheer successful organization. That was such an undertaking and a job well done to coordinate all of our various activities.

One story that keeps coming to my mind occurred when the double workshift group walked to a local grocer to get lunch on Thursday. After we all ordered and received our ludicrously under priced po-boys ($4 for a 16 inch), we sat eating on the curb outside the store. All of us were sunburned, dirty, disheveled, and a few of us still had our tool belts and hammers. Any passerby would easily pick us out for Habitat volunteers. The amazing thing was, though, that nearly every passerby did indeed pick us out as volunteers. On that curb with hot sauce running down my fingers, our little group received “thank you’s” from drivers screeching to a halt to give us a shout out, people walking along the sidewalk, and this one little boy doing tricks on his bmx bike. These shouts of “great job” and “thanks for being here” were coming directly from the people of the neighborhood we were working in. This for me was the most rewarding “thank you” of all the ones we got on the trip, be it from Jim at Camp Hope or Mr. Pickles. The exact people we were done there to help were so appreciative of our efforts that it really put a face on just what our charitable work meant. Up to that point, at least for myself, I had not experienced the human connection between what we were doing in Winnetka and the people we were helping down in New Orleans. But the seven or so people that literally stopped in their tracks to thank us really made the trip for me.

My second most memorable feeling of the trip occurred on the swamp boat tour. (Obviously, I could go on listing the ten things I remember from every day). The tour had just begun, and our boat came out of the little bayou (which we all know is a slow moving swamp) and hit the open river. The Left East Middle West _____ River. Chuck (or Charlie, or ?) told us to hold onto our hats as he hit the accelerator. Our big bulky boat nosed up out of the water and we started gaining speed, spraying the front row just a little bit. With the wind rushing in my face, whipping my hair and drying my eyes, and the verdure on the river banks flying past me, I finally had time to just think about the trip. This was almost the last event on the last day of a jam packed trip that left me little time for anything but ‘doing’. Once given the chance to just sit back and drink in the fresh air off the river, I just kept thinking to myself what a great trip this had been. Literally nothing went wrong, and the things that didn’t go according to plan were made better by our impromptu decisions. Chef Frank Davis making us breakfast, walking down the street to Snug Harbor, etc, no one could plan that, but things just kept falling into place to make the trip better and better. Our group of 44 did just about everything in out power to help those still affected after the hurricane, and were appreciatively accepted by the people of New Orleans. Donating instruments and prom attire will reap dividends in all of those people’s lives, as well as all those that they positively affect. The focal point of the trip though, the house built for Musician’s Village, wasn’t only worthwhile for the humanists among us, but being at the worksite with all my friends in the band and working on the house was just plain fun. I’ll for sure look to volunteer with Habitat again in the future solely because of my positive experience in New Orleans.

I am proud to say that I am a member of the Jazz I that went down to New Orleans during spring break 2008.

- David Binder (senior - trombone)

- Andrew Heaton  (senior - guitar)

I can say that I was legitimately surprised when I first arrived in New Orleans.  I knew that Katrina took a big toll on the city, but I did definitely not expect what I saw when I arrived there. Two and a half years after Katrina, I thought things would mostly be fixed up, but what I saw was a different story. Much to my surprise, the city of New Orleans was not like Chicago with many large high-rise buildings and apartments; in reality most people live in small one-story houses throughout the outskirts of the city. Every time Mr. Pickles would drive to and from Camp Hope, I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of the 9th ward. Almost every one of the houses that still stood had black spray paint writing on the walls, proclaiming how many people and pets were in the house and what day the house was inspected. All the houses just looked completely trashed, indicating that no one had really touched them since the storm. The reality of the situation hit me so hard when I realized how little has really changed in so many parts of New Orleans. Sure, the French Quarter still parties as hard as it did before Katrina, but places like the 9th ward, which represent the true heart of New Orleans, are still as ruined as they were before the storm.

Still, with that being said, I found the spirit of New Orleans still in tact in the many wonderful and interesting people that I met in my trip down there. At the Sixth Baptist Church, people in the double digits came up to me to personally thank me for the work I was doing for the city of New Orleans. When we played at Ray’s Boom Boom Room, I attempted to dance like the one of the guys with the umbrellas who leads parades in New Orleans while I was laying out on Tall and Lanky. When I was finished, an older woman from the audience came up to me and asked me how I was able to second line so well. I thought she was talking about the second line music, so I just replied that I personally learned from listening to recordings of guys like Louis Armstrong and Wynton Marsalis playing in the second line style. Then she said, “No, not the music. How did you learn to dance like that?” I was initially very flattered because I dance all the time during Jazz Band, and I usually don’t get much credit for it. I just said that I don’t really know how I do it, I just feel the music. She then replied, “Well, you would fit right in down here dancing in one of those parades. I’d bet you would look great leading a second line parade.” In that one moment, I felt truly appreciated, and, in fact, I felt truly appreciated that whole week. Even though their city is in shambles, the people of New Orleans are still optimistic and resilient, and I realized that they are all incredibly appreciative of anyone who wants to come down and help them build back their city.

- Danny Bressler  (senior - trumpet)

On the most basic level, I think the trip to New Orleans taught me
something about the true essence of service. Initially, I thought of this project to raise money (and its eventual accomplishment) as the triumph of a community, more specifically a high school, and most specifically a jazz band. I thought that we had achieved a great victory, a feat that showed we cared so much for the
damaged hearts of New Orleans.

Riding home without that oversized cardboard check, I realized that I had misunderstood the entire concept of the project. We were helping out people just like us, people who could have had the same opportunities as us without a hurricane coming through to ruin their city.

People were the central part of this trip. The people who lived in Musicians' Village, and the surrounding area, that stopped on the street to offer their most sincere gratitude for our service. Our actions of waking up at six in the morning to get to work by eight and work until three spoke more than any oversized check.

The people at habitat for humanity and camp hope that put everything they have into their work day in and day out. Our concert was incredibly special to those people, because we gave hope in its purest form through our white smiles behind sun burnt faces, and the joy we projected through our instruments, and through our hugs and laughs with each other.

The kids receiving instruments who we will not meet, those who saw us on TV, and those who silently watched from the back of our venues. They too feel the hope we brought simply by being there and smiling. We went to New Orleans to give what we could- from our hands to theirs. Our smiles and laughs reassured all those who give everyday, and sometimes find it tough to keep giving. I think giving my sleep and my energy away to working made me feel like I was giving all I had, even more than when I was swinging on the bandstand. In fact, I think I was playing for myself as much as I was playing for New Orleans down there- because I had to give hope to myself that the city can and will be rebuilt.

For life, I've learned that I truly love service and giving, and it will be a lifelong pursuit of mine to find more ways to contribute what I have to offer. Anyone can give, it doesn't have to be a whole jazz band with a fat check, but maybe a single kid taking his Saturday off to use a hammer.

As for our contribution as a jazz band, I think we did in fact touch more people than we will ever know- and we gave a wink of hope with our own cheerful service which is enough for those who endure the pain of devastation every day.

- John Fonseca Fatum (senior - drums)

Well I’ve had a couple days to decompress from the trip, which is just about adequate time to start to assemble my thoughts. I don’t have a grade coming from this, in fact I just have two more pass/fail grades until I might very well (knock on wood) be done with school for a while, but as everyone else is sharing their thoughts I felt I shouldn’t be silent myself. I hope I get an A.

I think one of my most significant memories from the trip happened during our first day at Habitat. I was cleaning paintbrushes near where we played the concert at Musicians’ Village the next day. For some reason I looked up as this cab was driving by. It slowed, like every other vehicle coming down that street, on account of the holes, but the driver came to a near stop, rolled down his window and drove by the entire work site yelling thank you to whomever was in ear shot. It was just so unexpected, so genuine and to be cliché so darn cool.

I was certainly touched by all the stories of hardship, loss, and rebuilding that everyone had. It really helps you to appreciate the scale of what happened in New Orleans. I’ve realized that was a much more far reaching disaster than I had ever thought that touched everyone, millions and millions of people. I think the trip helped show us just how big it was, it was an hour drive from downtown NOLA to Camp Hope in St. Bernard and everything and everyone living in between had been affected, just a staggering scale.

But the most significant thought, impression, whatever, I came back with is something I had wanted to say to the group at Musician’s village but I wasn’t feeling it right then so I didn’t, but here goes. I was astounded by the professionalism, maturity, and work ethic of everyone with us on the trip. Our schedule was brutal, I’ve been on clinical rotations that have been easier, and everyone stayed positive. Every concert the band played was better than the one before. Everyone worked hard in Musicians’ Village.

I was worried when I agreed to go along on this trip that I was going to be an outsider. I only knew a couple of the 40 people who were going, and they all knew each other. I didn’t want to spend a lonely week in New Orleans. That certainly wasn’t the case. Everyone on the trip was welcoming and friendly that I honestly feel like I came home with thirty-something new friends.

So where this is all headed is thank you to every one of you who was on this trip and helped organize it. It was a privilege and an honor to be allowed to be part of what was for most who came along, and many who didn’t, a yearlong effort. I not only got to make a bunch of new friends but I was able to see what a remarkable bunch of people can do, and how they can leave a mark on an entire city, when they set their minds to it.

- Matt Horbal (chaperone)

By far the best part of the trip was how welcoming and receptive everyone there was to what we were doing.  The highlight of the trip for me by far was when we were walking to lunch on the last day of working at Habitat.  The area we were walking through was definitely not the best neighborhood.  But then all these people drove past in their cars, slowed down and yelled things at us like "Thank you so much for helping out here!" or "Keep up the good work!".  It was kind of funny that it was so obvious we were there working at Habitat, but it was incredibly encouraging to see that what we were doing was really making a difference to a lot of people, not just the guy who's home we were building.  The fact that we were there, showing that there are people who still care, really meant a lot to those people. 

Another great moment was when some of us were walking down Bourbon Street at night and suddenly a group of people started yelling at us trying to get our attention.  When we started talking to them they told us they were from Camp Hope and recognized us from the concert there.  I don't think any of us were even wearing our tour shirts, they just remembered our faces.  They had had a little to drink and went on for a while about how awesome we sounded and how much they appreciated what we were trying to do.  They all insisted on giving us hugs before they left.

There are really too many little instances of it to count or to try to explain.  All I can do is try to sum it up by saying the people of New Orleans gave me much more than I thought I was giving them.

- Anonymous (student traveler)

The defining moment of the trip for me took place on our last day of work at the Musician’s Village. Those of us who had been working during the morning were on break and walking to a local deli for lunch. On the way we passed through a neighborhood clearly down on its luck. More than two years later, evidence of the devastation Katrina caused was present here. Homes were abandoned and in disrepair. Some families had returned but the occasional FEMA trailer stood as a stark reminder that life was not back to normal in New Orleans . It was here in the midst of a forgotten partially rebuilt city that I experienced the most uplifting moment of the trip. A woman came running out of her house to thank us as we walked by. She called to us from her porch and merely thanked us for everything we had done. I don’t know whether she knew what specifically New Trier had done or if she thought we were just another group of workers from Musician’s Village. It honestly doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the mere presence of a group of people trying to make a difference had an impact. For me that is what the trip became: an opportunity to give help and hope to a people that have been through hell and left by the wayside. We may not have completed a house but were able to do some good and in the end that’s all that really matters.  

- Colin Drozdoff (senior - piano)

Going to New Orleans was an unforgettable experience. Being a helper and not a musician I was able to observe all the aspects of the trip. The first moment that really made me feel as if I were in New Orleans and that a disaster hit was when we were on our way to Camp Hope and traveled by the abandoned warehouse. I was able to see how even companies had abandoned post there.

On Sunday when we went through the French Quarter for the first time, you could see the sprit of the people hadn’t been broken. In the French Quarter we went to Café Du Monde. The Beignets that they made were divine. With the Café au Lait in the combination it made the whole experience easy to devour.

On Monday we went to Tipitinas and I helped set-up the dresses and tuxedos. When the people came to receive outfits you could see the excitement in their faces. It was interesting to see how they seemed like they were shopping for their prom attire instead of getting donated items. Everyone was so happy to be receiving such a gift it made the experience worth every bit of work. I was then able to see what the real situation in New Orleans was when we went on our trip with Mr. Pickles (Our bus driver) and Cleo (The bus we traveled on). We were taken to where the Levees had broken and to some of the hardest hit sections of the city. That night though was extraordinary. I was blown away by the band's performance at the 7 o’clock evening concert. At 9:00 they played their second concert and I couldn’t believe how amazing they were. Even with only about 6 people in the audience I heard the best performance I had ever heard from Jazz 1.

On Tuesday we woke early to go to the television station. It was such a blast. To be able to see how a real news station worked and was set up was so interesting and mind boggling and to be in the studio and see the performance live and at the same time on the TV was tres tres cool. When we went to the Habitat construction site I was so excited to pick up my hammer and nail and help build a house for a musician.  I did end up trading those in for a bucket of paint and a brush though. Painting ended up being a better fit for me than hammering was. I had so much fun hanging with everyone and paining the exterior of the houses.

 Wednesday was unimaginable. At the habitat site the band played a concert with the musicians in the neighborhood. It was so spectacular to see a professional rub board player (Chaz) and some of the amazing instrumentalists from the Village come pick up a horn and play with band.  Later that night they performed at Rays Boom Boom Room, where they performed yet another extraordinary concert. They even had Even (our instructor from Habitat) take out his fiddle and jam with the band. After the concert we were invited to the re-known jazz club, Snug Harbor . Some of the people in the band such as Natalie, David, Jake, and Nick went up and played with the musicians on stage. It was so mind blowing to see my fellow class mates perform in such a well know club. It was a lasting experience.

Thursday was a more relaxing day. We went on a tour of the swamps and on our journey we saw 2 snakes and an alligator. It was so cool to see nature so close up. We then traveled to the crawfish festival where I tried alligator which truly does taste like chicken just a little chewier. After our festive crawfish dinner we were let loose in the French quarter. I traveled with my group through many places. We revisited the well known beignet makers of Café du Monde and then traveled through Bourbon Street which in one word is “interesting”.

I thoroughly enjoyed my stay in New Orleans with the New Trier Jazz Band. I know I won’t ever forget this trip. I felt so lucky to be so welcomed and included into the close bound family that Jazz 1 is. I am just so happy with the experience I had and can’t wait to go back to New Orleans and make more memories for myself and others. It is a comforting feeling to know that I did something that made someone else’s life easier and just makes me want to help more.

- Katie Kalmikoff (sophomore - tour support)

There are many things to say about our trip to New Orleans and many stories to tell, but we all share those things.  What the trip meant to me personally might be completely different.  I thought that the opportunities we were given and the things we did were all truly amazing.  Though, what really struck me was working on the houses in the Musician’s Village.  I have worked on Habitat projects and other similar projects through different organizations, and every time it is exciting and eye opening.  Having the entire band working together at the site really instilled just as great of a sense of an ensemble as our playing did.  The site was not only a center for hard work, but for fun, meaning, and a spirit of teamwork.
 
Though I wasn’t assigned to work with all the power tools, painting was just as fun and important to the construction and transformation of the house into a real home.  Painting also allowed me to meet some really special and great people.  On our second day a woman by the name Pearl worked with us on painting the house.  I was able to talk to her one on one for a while because we were painting in the same room and also took a short break outside.  Pearl is a New Orleans resident who is receiving a house from Habitat for Humanity in another area.  She has to work for about 250 hours on various Habitat sites before she can receive her home.  She was so high spirited and positive at the site even though, the two days she worked with us were her days off.  Pearl works a full time job at Lowe’s and has to get here hours in on her days off.  When she told be this I was shocked and frankly upset that they wouldn’t give her a break on the hours at all, but Pearl didn’t mind one bit.  It was amazing to see how resilient she was and to see that any thought off working too much was clouded by her gratitude.  Not only did I find a soft spot for Pearl and like her, but I also really respected her out look on her life.
 
Our site also had an AmeriCorps leader named Brea who is only 19 and from New Jersey.  She said that after she graduated from high school last year she decided that she wanted to do something and put college on hold.  She is what is called a permanent member and is staying at the Musician’s Village site for 10 months, she currently has about two months left.  She was really cool and fun to work with because she was close my age and had a similar personality to myself.  I thought that it was really cool that she had decided to go help others and put her life on hold, especially since she had decided to do this at such a young age.  Brea actually gave me her e-mail and told me to keep in touch and I got an e-mail from her two nights ago just to see how things were.

The trip really did some amazing things for all of us and really helped us grow as a band, and even as individuals.  An experience like this trip really shows you where you’re at in the world and makes you think about how you’re going to continue living your life afterwards.  I could probably tell more stories and say more things, but I won’t.  This was the trip to me.  I felt everything we did, especially our playing, was great and amazing, but this is what I’ll hold when it’s all said and done.

- Karl Thelen (senior - trombone)

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