Band Director leaves mark

The walk from the Athletic Department at Gardner-Webb University to my office across the road is a short one, separated only by two athletics fields. While returning to my office after checking the mail the other day, I saw strange markings on the neatly manicured grass that decorates the playing surfaces. Always one to satisfy my curiosity, I diverted my course to investigate. As I neared the markings, it became clear to me that the red, white, and black paint was placed there for a very specific purpose. Gardner-Webb University’s band director died in his campus office last week, just as his band of enthusiastic musicians and performers were preparing for the second home game of their second season since being resurrected. Sid Haton had accepted the challenge of molding these young adults into a marching, playing, performing unit. And he had done one heckuva job. The first time I met Sid, I was immediately impressed with his enthusiasm, warmth, and contagious smile. Unfortunately for me, I only crossed paths with this fascinating man two or three times during his short time at GWU. But I was privy to his passion for music and his band quite often. With my office being right beside where the band practiced, I could often hear Sid encouraging, motivating, and spewing his contagious enthusiasm. I couldn’t hear everything he said, but I get the feeling he was a perfectionist when it came to his band’s performance. Yet it seemed to me they all seemed to be having a good time, especially their charismatic leader. We held our breath the first time they performed at a football game. None of us knew what to expect from a first year band. Two minutes into their performance it was obvious the GWU band was way ahead of schedule. At Sid’s memorial service, phrases and words like “joyous, loving, passionate, inspirational, gifted, intelligent, kind, understanding, and extraordinary” were used to describe him. Sid was the same age as me-which I consider young by today’s standards- but look what the man did with his life. He inspired people of all ages and made them better at their craft. But he also inspired them to be better people. What more noble calling could a person strive for in life? Maybe he didn’t achieve the life expectancy most people have come to expect, but it seems to me he crammed three or four lifetimes of inspiration into his 45 years. I paused for a few moments the day I stood where Sid Haton, from the peak of a modest hill, overlooked and directed his precious band of performers daily. On that very spot, his name is now painted in ten foot high letters, a tribute to the direction he provided his kids each day. In smaller letters, the date of his departure provides an outline to the powerful tribute. In those quiet private moments, I lamented the fact that I wouldn’t be hearing Sid leading his band outside my window anymore. But more importantly, I prayed that I might someday be as inspirational and live a life as meaningful as this man did. There is no substitute for leading a purpose-driven, passionate life. And by God’s grace, I pray we will all live out the passion He has placed within each of us. Like Sid did.