Were you among the 300 toe-tapping, grass-dancing, canvas-chair-reposing, ever-smiling folks who trumpeted, sung and strummed to Friday in South Camden, where even the lucky old setting sun seemed reluctant to leave the scene?

Did you, “come on, you can tell me,” wish you were on stage with those guys, those front-line salt-and-pepper, mostly-salt-haired, horn-blowing, harmony-singing, bell-to-bell, shoulder-to-shoulder, darn-sure-having-a-good-time guys? Or, since you could tell the horn guys probably failed Julia’s choreography class, dreaming about rocking with the younger, but equally seasoned, rhythm section? Lead singer Jerry mentioned that some of the fellas had been playing together since 1964; by then those two trumpeters had been hitting horn harmonies for three years, on the school bus, at teenage canteens, barn dances, school proms and in living rooms.

If this printer’s ink happens to wash up on shore at say, Edisto Beach, South Hampton or upriver to Orangeburg, do you, reminiscent reader, ever, at least when you see and hear a good band, wish you had not quit piano or violin lessons? Of course, then and now, the glory was and is on the ball field. However, ball field glory fades. Ball-playing injuries don’t.

“So mothers, tell your children, though they won’t listen, not to do what I have done. A group of older guys was playing music at The Fine Arts Center and man, they were having fun. I heard they even get paid.” End of music lesson.

OK, if you’ve finished practicing your saxophone, we’ll get back to those horn players. Earl, for those of you in lawn chairs facing the stage, was left center, brass trumpet just below horizontal, playing, singing, and between songs, jesting with you by name. To give ball playing its due, Earl played baseball in two world series, little and pony league. Yep, he even had a short stint with Camden High football before realizing he was having more fun in band, and half a century later, he still is. So, Buddy, ‘Sut,’ H.B. and the rest from those wonderful ball teams, eat your hearts out.

The other one, with the silver trumpet aiming straight at you, the one who kept jumping off the stage to hug ladies in the crowd, loved to play ball as a kid but didn’t always have a way to get to town for practice. Now before you get out your violin, he did play little league baseball on the State Farm team between Boykin and Rembert. Left-handed, sometimes pitcher, fair fast ball but wild, the story about his team playing against the prisoners is worth the price of a paper. However, this story is about tooting your own horn, so early on he began practicing high notes like the ones you heard Friday, antagonizing his sisters, fellow bus passengers and the cows, calling them to the barn for hay. The rest is recorded history. By late 1961 he, Earl, Maxie, Clark and Kirk, calling themselves “The Eldorados,” were playing as a group, all instrumentals (remember Lonely Bull?) in and around Camden.

Finally, Friday, speaking of automobiles, place enough paying ads in this paper: (Wanted, used musical instrument for older student. Price no object as long as I sound good and it’s inexpensive … etc.) plus send enough calls and friendly e-mails to your editor and you may be tricked or treated to the antics of these musicians with their first automobiles. Well, they had to get around, and get around they did, in style.

n Johnny Roland grew up in Boykin. He plays trumpet with Reflections.

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