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William D. Revelli

William D. Revelli, on the Anniversary of His Death

I wasn't even six months into my first job at NRL when I'd heard the legendary director of not only the Michigan Marching Band but all of Michigan's Bands had died at age 92.

William D. Revelli left a lasting impact at Michigan. I can only relay that impact by knowing that it was his name on the building where I showed up days before the rest of the Freshman class at Michigan to begin Band Week. A couple of months later I met the man in person while practicing early in the very building.

I've posted the following text before on Facebook, but it really deserves to live on my own blog as well.


Set the clock back to Homecoming week, 1987. At this point, the Michigan Drumline marched 6 (yes, Six) snares, 4 basses, 4 cymbals and 2... yes TWO tenors, quads to be exact. Being 3rd out of 2, and having class end an hour before Drumline practice started, were all the motivation I needed to get to Revelli Hall early and practice.

Yes, Revelli Hall. There was a large, easily visible, picture of The Man Himself as you walked in. I was an out-of-stater, who didn't really know all of the history of the University of Michigan, or its band. I knew Revelli was a legendary director, had the job for a long time, and commanded a great deal of respect. I'd already learned the first of what I like to think of as Revelli's Three Laws:

1.) To be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late, and to be late is to be lost.

So I'm practicing. Glad that at least while I couldn't march halftime (never mind pregame, something tenors of my day NEVER got to do), I did have a drum and a uniform. I got to play on the steps, play while marching to & from the stadium, and to play postgame (including Temptation & Warchant).

As I'm practicing a short older man walks in. Yes, it's William D. Revelli, the same guy on the picture. Wow! At this point, I remember that even famous people don't want to be all fawned over (think "Limelight" from Rush, a band every drummer listens to), but I did want to talk with him. I can't remember if he came over to me, but we talked. I can't also remember what exactly we all talked about, but he was very nice, and I thought I was very respectful. He thanked me for talking and I said (trying to be normal), "No problem," and went back to practicing.

He directed us, and I learned the remaining of his three laws as he told the whole band about them:

2.) If you want to know how good a marching band is, close your eyes.

3.) If you have class, you don't need to show it.

Apparently, Dr. Revelli was tickled pink by my usage of "No problem". Alas, when then-director Eric Becher told this story to the band at large the next day, they (we) hissed. Yes, hissed. I don't know if that still happens today with bad news, but when we heard something like, "Oh this writer from the Daily said about us," we'd hiss. My use of "No problem," being cause for hissing, well, scared me a little, and annoyed me equally so. I never meant disrespect to him, I was just not trying to be fawning. A kind graduate assistant, however, confirmed that he was, in fact, tickled pink about it.

A year or two later, while speaking at the MMB Parent's Banquet, Dr. Revelli briefly talked about "No problem" and how he thought it reflected on how kids of our generation (GenX) tackled things in a no-nonsense matter.


So today, on Facebook, a distinguished member of the University of Michigan Band Alumni Association posted this tribute and included a piece of Revelli history I had not known before: his final letter the MMB members got to read on the bus from Ann Arbor to Columbus. Note that Dr. Revelli not only dated, but TIMESTAMPED his letters.


November 17, 1970 11:45 p.m.

Gentlemen of Michigan:

The evening shadows are long; soon, another day will have passed—gone into
eternity—beyond recall, never to return in our times. Tomorrow’s dawn will
bring another day—a new opportunity to live, to love, to work, to help each
other.

What a great and rewarding season this has been. You have performed nobly; to
each and every one of you, I offer my sincere gratitude and eternal thanks.

Come Saturday, we shall give our very best, our all, for our band, our team,
our University, and ourselves. Once again, we shall uphold our motto—“Non Tam
Pares, Quam Superiores.”

Following is my final message to you. It is not new; you have heard it many
times, yet is as true today as it has been since the birth of mankind and as
it will be for centuries to come. I hope you will make it a part of your
personal credo—for if it becomes so, then I, too, shall be a part of you—“even
if ever so small.”

REVELLI’S CREDO

1. Excellence. Do not be deceived by the cult of the mediocre—the enemy of
excellence, and remember that excellence demands standards. It is revealing to
see how often a man who keeps the highest standards in his professional
calling will tolerate the lowest of standards elsewhere. Would it not be more
desirable to seek in every phase of life the standards that perfection
requires?

2. Adequate Thinking. This means adequate purpose, for purpose, and not
L.S.D. or any other drug is the greatest expander of the mind and stimulant of
the mental faculties.

3. Creativity. Abjure cynicism. Do not be deceived by the false
intellectualism of the cynic. He is often the man who in his heart knows the
truth, and in his mind, has decided not to face it. He devoted his brain to
justifying the stultification of his conscience. Cynicism in you strangles
creativity in others. Give free rein to heart and conscience; creative
imagination will come alive.

4. Commitment. We hear a great deal about commitment in the University
environment, and even in circles where the person has it or not, I think just
about everyone is committed to something. The human being is a committed
animal by nature. The trouble is, he is usually committed first of all to
himself. But, the greatest men and women of history have usually found a
worthy commitment far bigger than themselves. Seek that.

5. Faith. Faith that man’s spirit can carry his abilities far beyond his
ordinary capacity. Faith that man’s closest approach to God lies in his
whole-souled response to the greatest task he feels God has for him. Faith
that man is not a prisoner of circumstances—that he can shape history rather
than be shaped by it.

6. Worthwhile Adventure. Not least, a spirit of a happy worthwhile
adventure. The spirit that comes from the heart and talents mobilized for
urgent worthy ends.

I love each and every one of you, and I pray that God may bless and keep you
healthy and happy always.

Remember—it is not who you are or where you are, but rather what you are that
shall bring you life’s joys and happiness.

Sincerely your devoted friend,

William D. Revelli

Nearly 40 years later, I still feel honored to have met the man. And been able to be (alongside all MMBers) a small part of his legacy.

He always directed Irving Berlin's God Bless America for homecoming. Here's the MMB two years after I graduated playing it under his direction:

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