Beavers at work in the Greens.
July 20, 2025 – Along the Mill Brook
I’m standing here at my kitchen counter with large awning windows overlooking the Mill Brook with a breakfast beer in hand, a custom blend of Focal Banger and Luscious from the Alchemist in Stowe, Vermont, just north of here. I am crying. I am not sure whether this is a sign of aging and man-a-pause, or the activation of a highly emotional connection that I have established with a certain competitive activity, Drum Corps International (DCI), and a particular organization that is currently leading it, the Boston Crusaders Drum and Bugle Corps (BAC), organized by Inspire Arts and Music, Inc.
A Sunday beer for breakfast in celebration.
Last night, the Boston Area 😉 Crusaders set a new record with the highest score ever performed by a DCI corps in the Southwest Regional Competition in San Antonio, Texas, at 93.213 out of 100 possible points. That is less than 7% from being perfect at this place, halfway into the season. They have several weeks to gain the perfect score, but alas, that is not possible. I learned early on that nothing is perfect, but striving for perfection is a worthy goal that drives creativity and excellence, and adds self-worth.
Icicle moss in July.
The tears are of joy for the kids who have been striving, along with the incredible instructors, designers, and staff who have enabled these particular kids with the tools they need to succeed. This can be said of all the drum corps organizations that performed at the Alamodome last night. What a wonderful celebration of music, art, inclusion, and diversity. Equity is an elusive concept under assault in America, but we still have hope, because the kids get it. They know what they can accomplish when they all work together, regardless of social differentiation. It takes all 165 of them to make it happen at this level. You be you, I’ll be me, but we are all in it together. The drum corps community is filled with love, family, and belonging.
From the Appalachian Gap.
These days, in mid-July, when the drum corps kids are toiling through the sweltering southern tour, I get a pause from traveling, sit back, and do my best with my relationship with Flo, sometimes late into the evening. My life back here in the Mad River Valley of Vermont is filled with local events, and long-deferred house projects left over from the last summer and ski season (which includes fall, winter, and spring). I enjoy healthy activities such as weekly group hikes in the Green Mountains of the Northeast with friends. After my hectic California tour, I took a walk up Number Nine Hill Road for a little therapy at Mountain Man Farm, a source of locally grown food. It’s a two-mile hike uphill from Mill Brook Road. I carry an empty backpack up, and on the way down, a full one with fresh eggs, vegetables, and packaged meats from the hillside farm.
Mountain Man Farm.
Yesterday, before the competition, my neighbor, Dr. Karen Anderson, DVM, and I hiked Scragg Mountain, a local peak overlooking the Valley from the east, celebrating 30 years of friendship and neighborly relations. I cannot overstate how important this friendship has been. Veterinarian, ski patroller, gardener, and all-around expert on all things, Karen, with two new hips and two new knees, and her German Shorthaired Pointer companion, Ninestien, tackled Scragg with ease.
This slice of heaven on earth is not quite perfect, but I have had the pleasure of working with Karen and many other great community members who strive for it since moving here over 30 years ago. We talked about the arc of my avocation for trails from inviting me to join the Mad River Path Association, to becoming a board member of the country’s longest National Scenic Trail (4,900 mi.), the North Country Trail. This, of course, included extensive long-term community engagement, planning, and project management of public facilities and land conservation. My capstone project is a hyperlocal one, saving an old two-room schoolhouse in our neighborhood along the Mill Brook and starting a music school. There is a lot of manpower and funding required to raise an old schoolhouse. Please consider donating at: https://numbernineschoolhouse.org
Karen dropped me off at home in time for some high-volume, large-screen entertainment in my living room. I quickly showered and turned on the Flo-machine. Not quite like being there, but it has other benefits, such as enjoying the privacy of my living room (band room), where I was free to enjoy the beverage of my choice, and the comforts of home. No need to dash through throngs of people and up flights of stands to get to the restroom and back in time for the next performance, only to miss it by just that much and have to stand with one ear and one eye over someone else’s shoulder at the entrance to the stands.
Thank you, Flo, for capturing the event well. The multiple cameras worked hard to capture the moments that elate. Multi-cam is a great way to see things up close that you never do from the stands. The sound was crisp and well-balanced between the field, the pit, and the soloists. I especially liked the direct feed to my hearing aids from my computer. But, lo, this is just a glint of the emotional stimulation of a live show. The body does not feel the waves of energy that emanate from the field and are refracted and amplified by those around me. My hair stayed firmly on my head and did not catch fire. Droplets were not emitting from my eyes like sparks.
Pastoral hillside farm in the Mad River Valley.
This morning, I let Karen know about the results from San Antonio. She had to listen to my incessant stories about my California tour while on the 5-mile hike yesterday. My friends in Vermont do not actually understand my obsession with DCI. Marching music is not a big part of Vermont culture because we have schools too small to field large bands. So, I get a chance to bring the spirit to them. Those of you whom I have met and watched and listened to on tour since 2012 have shaped my spirit and enthused me to get involved in my community. That is not to say that music education is lost in Vermont. The school system where I work part-time is noted for its strong music and arts programs as well as its athletics. I am proud to be an assistant golf coach and a preferred substitute teacher for band and chorus. I have shared my DCI stories with several classes over the past eight years. I tell the kids that they can do sports and music. The kids catch my spirit. Your spirit. I aspire to create an alternative, complementary space at the Number Nine Schoolhouse where kids can achieve success through music with private instruction, group rehearsal, small performances, recording, and producing content.
On the price, Pat says, “Leave what you think you owe.”
Now, standing here this morning and writing this, my hair is on fire, feeling the spirit that those at San Antonio must be feeling. These are visceral responses I get when I am excited in the stands. It is largely due to the texts that I have received from tour mates and fellow fans as they roll in this morning. Last night, the text communications began, but here in the east, we are lagging by two hours from Texas. I hit the sheets directly after the scores were announced. What a pleasant mid-summer night’s slumber I had in the cool Vermont nocturnal, knowing the historic outcome. I thought about the Bluecoats, and Blue Devils, running cerebral tapes of past shows and feelings, tempering my thoughts and feelings before drifting off.
The author out on a walkabout.
This morning, I rejoice and celebrate with BAC. This is a new phenomenon for them, being so elevated. Let us not get ahead of ourselves. There is much more season to come. You know that all of the other incredible drum corps will be making changes, cleaning, and pushing right to the end on that Saturday in August. For now, I will finish my breakfast beer in celebration of the historic successes, carry on with the house projects, and hit the piano keys later. I’m looking forward to some love in the South by continuing my DCI tour live and in person with a trip to Night/BEAT in Winston-Salem next. And then, a homecoming in Boston as I embark on the long and winding road through Pennsylvania and Ohio for DCI Indy. Tomorrow is the Peak-a-week hike up Burnt Rock. Peace out for now.
Kevin Russell
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