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TheMichiganDaily, www.michigandaily.com
FootballSaturday, September 27, 2019
Ten months later, Kelly Ber-
toni still remembers the con-
versation.
The drum major for the
Michigan marching band stood
at the doors of Revelli Hall, the
band’s rehearsal space, helping
then-Director of Operations
Maggie St. Clair bag up banan-
as and bagels and granola bars
for their trip to Ohio State last
Nov. 24. St. Clair, decked out in
maize and blue, turned to Ber-
toni.
“Kelly, make sure you have
your breakfast, too.”
They embraced, then parted
to load the buses. Bertoni didn’t
know that simple early-morn-
ing conversation would be their
last. She didn’t know that trag-
edy was about to strike. And
she didn’t know that soon, she
would be sitting in that same
Revelli lobby, figuring out how
best to honor St. Clair’s mem-
ory.
St. Clair was the de facto
mom of the band. She organized
everything — from coordinat-
ing trips to ordering uniform
accessories to securing build-
ing access. More than that, she
made herself available to any-
one who needed her. For over
30 years, band members knew
that if something was wrong,
they could talk to her and she
would listen. She would know.
Senior cymbals player Erin
Sickrey
remembers
goofing
around with her friends once
in Revelli when the handle
of a door broke off. Worried,
Sickrey walked in holding the
handle — and ran right into St.
Clair. With her usual grace, St.
Clair let Sickrey know it wasn’t
a big deal, it could be fixed.
St. Clair took the time to get
to know band members, even
keeping in touch with alumni
and asking about their fami-
lies. She was always there to
say hi or offer a hug. And at 64,
it seemed like she wouldn’t be
stopping any time soon.
But shortly after loading the
buses that November day, the
students realized something
was wrong. In the middle of
attendance, they were told that
there had been a medical emer-
gency. Eventually, administra-
tors confirmed it had been St.
Clair, but there was little infor-
mation from the hospital or her
husband at first.
And after the three-hour bus
ride to Columbus, the students
got lunch, then were told St.
Clair had died.
“That was the worst day of
my life,” said marching band
director John Pasquale, one of
the administrators tasked with
bearing the bad news.
Shortly after, the band had
to go out and perform a show
in front of fans of their most
hated rival, knowing they were
in a hostile environment. Ohio
State held a moment of silence
for St. Clair in the Horseshoe
and all things considered, the
fans were pretty respectful. But
that couldn’t possibly numb the
pain in that moment.
To senior Lexi Willison,
a trumpet player, the actual
show that day was a blur. But
she remembers all the other
details. She, too, says it was one
of the worst days of her life.
“Being there with everybody
else, all of us going through the
same thing, helped,” Willison
said. “But nothing really could
ever make up for the fact, what
had happened, what we just
experienced, us still having to
go out there and do our jobs.”
When the band traveled to
Atlanta for the Peach Bowl,
it was clear just how much
they had lost. Not only was St.
Clair the emotional heartbeat
of the band, she was also the
one who organized the logis-
tics of a bowl trip — scouting
the venue beforehand, making
sure everything was ready to
go — and there was an element
of disorganization that wasn’t
there before. Everyone could
feel it.
In April, Bertoni and the
rest of the show design com-
mittee met in the lobby of Rev-
elli. Their undertaking was, in
some ways, normal. After all,
the
student-run
committee
meets every year, brainstorm-
ing show ideas for the next sea-
son. But this time, one loomed
over the rest: a show to honor
St. Clair.
St. Clair loved Lady Gaga
and Bruno Mars. The commit-
tee discussed the merits of all
those shows, but eventually
landed on her favorite — Mary
Poppins.
The
student
committee
doesn’t have the final say in
what shows make the sched-
ule. They present their ideas
to Pasquale, and he decides
which ones to run based on
target demographics, difficul-
ty and how easy it is to secure
the rights, among other things.
Pasquale then announces the
lineup at the beginning of band
week — a two-week boot camp
of sorts before school starts
each year.
This year during band week,
the members found out that
not only were they doing Mary
Poppins in honor of St. Clair,
but they could go all out.
The marching band operates
in show cycles based on how
long they have to prepare for a
given game. If there was a show
the week before, it’s a one-week
cycle — usually simpler shows
that are easy to learn in less
time. Because the band travels
just to Michigan State, Notre
Dame and Ohio State, the Big
Ten season often operates in
two-week show cycles, with an
extra week to prepare when the
team is away.
But this season, there was a
quirk in Michigan’s schedule
— an early season bye week,
followed by an away game at
Wisconsin, then a home tilt
with Rutgers. That presented
a rare opportunity: a three-
week show cycle. The longer
the show cycle, the more intri-
cate the shows could be, and a
three-week cycle — in which
the band has three weeks to
learn and prepare for one show
— is a rare luxury.
The decision to use the Mary
Poppins show for the Rutgers
game was obvious. Mary Pop-
pins will be one of the lon-
gest and most difficult shows
the band has ever done, and
throughout rehearsals, the sec-
tion leaders have made it clear
that a show that means so much
needs to be perfect.
“This is probably the most
seriously people have ever
taken a show,” Sickrey said. “
… In other shows, you can goof
off a little bit. It’s more fun. But
for these ones, the rank lead-
ers are very much emphasiz-
ing, ‘There’s no excuses on this
show, this has to be perfect,
because this is the reason that
we’re doing it.’ ”
There’s a story Willison tells
some of the new members who
didn’t know St. Clair or her
impact on the band.
Her dad was in the marching
band during his time at Michi-
gan in the late 1980s, and St.
Clair was his director of opera-
tions, too. They’d stayed in
touch, and near 2011, St. Clair
invited the Willison family to
tour Revelli during a rehearsal.
St. Clair showed Lexi — a bud-
ding trumpet player in her mid-
dle school band — the trumpet
lockers, pictures of past sec-
tions and a mural with a visual
representation of the music for
“The Victors.” The trip played
a small role in Willison com-
ing to Michigan, and when she
got there, St. Clair remembered
her and asked about her par-
ents and her younger siblings.
St. Clair wasn’t known as
the band mom for nothing. It
was almost as if the St. Clair
family and three decades of the
Michigan marching band fam-
ily were one and the same, and
nothing demonstrated that like
St. Clair reaching out to Wil-
lison’s long-graduated dad and
treating his entire family like it
was her own.
When Willison was told of St.
Clair’s death, she came to terms
not only with what had hap-
pened, but the fact that she’d
have to tell her dad — until she
paraded into the stadium and
a fellow band member pointed
out that her parents were there
in the audience. They’d come
down to Columbus to surprise
her. When the stadium PA
announced a moment of silence
for St. Clair, the secret was out.
After the game, as the band
trekked back to its buses, Wil-
lison ran into her dad. They
had a good cry together — two
generations of marching band
members touched by St. Clair
and everything she did for the
program.
There are different ways to
drive home St. Clair’s impact
for those who didn’t know
her. Some people, like Bertoni
— who grew up in St. Clair’s
hometown of Chelsea, Mich.,
went to the same church as her
family and worked as an assis-
tant to St. Clair for a semester —
tell touching personal stories.
Others only have to mention
her job description. Even the
freshmen realize how much
goes into running a marching
band, and that St. Clair did a
lot of the dirty work you only
see once you’ve been inside the
Revelli doors.
“You think of the smallest
details and that’s what Maggie
did,” Bertoni said. “Ordering
the ties for some of the GSIs
and the scarves. She helped me
get my uniform and just the dry
cleaning, the bills and the man-
agement. … And I think a lot of
people didn’t realize what that
was until unfortunately with
her passing, trying to analyze
the situation, how we were
going to move forward and best
prepare moving forward, it was
like, ‘Oh, Maggie was doing the
job of like five people, that’s
crazy.’ ”
Of
course,
the
march-
ing band has a new director
of operations now, Kimberly
Smith, and Pasquale has taken
the time to emphasize that
she’s not St. Clair’s replace-
ment: “She’s not filling in Mag-
gie’s shoes, she’s making her
own shoes,” as Sickrey recalls
Pasquale’s message.
That alone is telling. Smith
could do everything perfectly,
but it would be nearly impos-
sible for anyone to match St.
Clair’s impact.
When the marching band
parades out of the tunnel
Saturday against the Scarlet
Knights, it will all mean more.
It’s not just that they’re per-
forming St. Clair’s favorite
music, or that the show is in
honor of her, but that some of
her family will be in the stands,
along with countless alumni.
On Sunday, the marching band
is hosting a celebration of life,
and many former members are
coming back for it. The band
will perform there, too — both
their traditional repertoire like
the fight song and alma mater,
and selections from Mary Pop-
pins. The whole weekend will
be dedicated to remembering
St. Clair and gaining closure.
“It’s … difficult to imagine
that this happened less than
a year ago, in some ways, so
it’s still kind of fresh,” Bertoni
said. “And I think that that is
something, sometimes I’m like,
‘Wow, a lot has happened in
that time,’ but at the same time,
it’s still fairly recent.”
Nobody who was there will
soon forget that morning in
Columbus, but there’s no bet-
ter way to honor someone who
gave her all to the Michigan
marching band than putting
on one of the most ambitious
shows they’ve ever done — and
approaching it with St. Clair’s
enthusiasm and zeal.
When she was alive, knowl-
edge
of
St.
Clair’s
impact
was
largely
con-
fined
inside
the
doors
of Revelli Hall. But on Satur-
day, in front of 100,000 people,
the band will have an oppor-
tunity to convey a slice of who
she was and what she meant
to 30 years of marching band
members.
“We’re all very much aware
of why we’re doing this, who
we’re doing this for,” Willison
said. “And it’s an honor to be
able to be one of the people who
can
honor
her.”
MARCHING BAND TO HONOR LATE ADMINISTRATOR WITH SPECIAL TRIBUTE
THE SHOW GOES ON