I may never know the name of the song Charlie Goodwin played last Friday night. The church was quiet and the family and friends of Ron Wilcox were seated around a circle of flowers and in the center of one of the arrangements – a trumpet.
Ron played third trumpet in the Charlie Goodwin Orchestra for decades. Together they have a legacy like no other act in the region. Ron died unexpectedly on January 3rd – a wooden triangle with an American flag folded neatly in glass case rested quietly as Charlie began to play.
A few simple notes on a grand piano with hesitation is enough to convey the deepest of feeling and the notes tonight moved from familiar melodies to dark melancholy chords that seemed to grip the night and for several moments time stood still.
Earlier, Charlie had opened the door for me at Colonial Heights Christian Church. The funeral was being held on a cold damp January night and as I rushed in with the wind, I fumbled around with a handshake and my fumbling with regret and he said…”Yeh…it’s a kick in the head.”
Inside, a serpentine line wrapped around the church entrance as this veteran, educator, musician, husband, father and grandfather was laid to rest.
Ron was my band director for one year at Colonial Heights Junior High School in 1977 and my recollection of our time reminds me of his influence. One of the men at the eulogy mentioned he was a man of principle, integrity and commitment. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Dr. David Champouillion from ETSU‘s music department sat near and we were talking about “Mr. Wilcox” as I knew him. He described all of the great students Ron would send his way from his career as a band director for over 30 years and private lessons. His military background and confidence really meant a lot to me and I was no easy student. I recall creating larger-than-life caricatures of the band director and cutting up and class. I was probably a lot of trouble, but he was a patient man.
Fred Goodwin, Charlie’s son shared his memory of Ron as a quiet man. He played third trumpet in their band for years and had just played a gig with the band a week before. Later in the evening, we were to learn that Ron had been sick the night of the gig, but shared with his wife that he couldn’t let Charlie down on the day off. Ron was a hero.
Charlie was bustling in and out of the sanctuary and inside I could see the red and white music stands. The ones the big-band players play behind – red and white and each one decorated with a cursive “Charlie Goodwin Orchestra” on the outside. Even more memorable was the gathering of the region’s best musicians coming together to commemorate this influential man.
As Charlie concluded his intimate piano solo, he conducted this stellar group of instrumentalist through a few hymns written for big-band musicians. Most appropriate was the young man that played flugelhorn during one of the first hymns. The player, Fred Goodwin’s son and student was playing Ron’s part and was complimented by Rick Simerley on trombone. Rick is the music director at Milligan College and his improvisation over this familiar hymn was nothing short of supernatural. Each note was joined to the melody in a new song and every moment…poignant and still.
Every musician seemed completely that night and the music spoke volumes to everyone in the room. As one man would say later, “Words are not enough…that’s why we have music.”
Grief found expression that night through several senior players. Tyler Fleming was on trombone and other players in the horn section were familiar to me but I can’t recall their names. My friend Carl Archer, now in his seventies was also near tonight and he shared stories about Ron. They were both trumpet players and as usual Carl was crystal clear on the music and the memory of our friend.
Ron Wilcox will be long remembered by his colleagues, his bandmates and his students for many years to come. His influence on my love of music was significant, even though I had known him for no more than a year. We would see each other in music performances occasionally and his beautiful daughter was always a treat at my favorite downtown drive-thru, but for the most part, we didn’t see each other much, but I’ll always remember him and his final song.
At the end of the ceremony, the minister introduced the benediction and one final song. Charlie had mentioned it earlier, but he wasn’t sure about it, but it touched my heart and it was performed with a warm sense of class. ‘Stardust’ is a memorable jazz standard Benny Goodman and when the Charlie Goodwin Orchestra played the song, Ron Wilcox lifted his horn and ascended and descended in a brass instrument that was hard to ignore. I can’t tell you where he’s at now, but I know where he is my heart and that’s long-remembered. His bandmates and the music on this night was spiritual and together, we all will all remember his influence and his commitment to the language of music.
