One fall evening, back in 1972, Kathy Zimmerman, Kelly Wynn, and I were doing our usual perusal of cheap cosmetics and miniature turtles at Woolworths at "the Plaza" when, who did we see, but Mr. Lewellen, the band director at Camp Hill High. Of course, Mr. Lewellen was larger than life, and commanded the utmost respect from all who at the opportunity to take in his rather daunting frame and demeanor. And, since we were all twirlers (or maybe just Kelly and Kathy were at that point, I'm not sure if I "made it" that year or the next) we felt we had a special connection to Mr. Lewellen.
Anyway, being the type of individual who finds it hard to pass up a dare, I took Kelly and Kathy up on it when they "dared" me to yell "Hey Reese!!!" at the top of my lungs, across the plaza parking lot, at the maestro as he strode in giant steps to his car. As soon as the words left my lips I regretted my decision. He turned on his heel like a well-trained soldier, and in giant leaps that seemed to shake the parking lot, ran right up to me. As I tried to flee, he grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around. He then proceeded to scream at me about the audacity I had, and, as he marched me to the pay phone on the sidewalk of the plaza, he ordered me to call my mother and tell her what I had done. Needless to say, I did just that, explaining to my Mom how rude I had been, between gasps and tears.
When he was satisfied with my confession, he excused me. As I remember it, at that point Kelly and Kathy, who had been taking in the whole scene from a short distance away came running up to me laughing hysterically. Of course I was able to eventually laugh about it, too, but not for quite a while!