August 9, 2025 4:30 PM – Indianapolis, Indiana
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” – Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
Today, I had another moment of overwhelming emotion. Chuck and I have been eating out a lot at restaurants that serve large portions of food, too much for one person to eat at one sitting. This is the case in Marion, Indiana, on Tuesday at Don’s Tap House for dinner before attending the Open Class Finals. The fried pollack of Jack’s Famous Fish Basket was in abundance, so we combined our leftovers in the ubiquitous styrofoam box, thinking it would make a great lunch down the road. We kept it in the cooler, then into the refrigerator upon checking into the hotel. Fast forward to Saturday morning, when I finally decided that that was not going to happen. Three steps down the stairwell, on my way for my walk, intending to throw it out far away, I was stopped dead in my tracks mid-step by an overwhelming thought. Perhaps someone outside on the sidewalk along my route could use a meal. The thought was accompanied by an attending body rush and a flush of the oculars. The other attending thought was whether I was doing the right thing. Forgive me if you think this blog is about drum corps. It is about humanity and the best of it. Too many meals are half-discarded. Oppulence abounds when those among us who do not have the capacity to meet their basic needs are more prevalent than I have seen in eight years of my summer tour. These are not normal times. As if the universe conspired, I turned the first corner and ran into a young man who was obviously homeless and hungry. I stuttered, “Hey, are you hungry?” He stopped and looked up at me with a faraway gaze in one eye, and directly at me with the other, and said, Yes.” Sam had a good meal, and that is good.
This encounter with Sam and the accumulation of the road traveled for DCI since early late May in Castleton, caused an outpour. The well of emotion is deep, and the tear ducts tapped into the depths. The washcloth I was going to use to wipe my brow spent more time on my cheeks. It took at least 2 miles of my walk to flush out the emotions and dry my eyes.
This city has an amazing story of growth and prosperity. Clearly, things are on the upswing with the skyline increasingly busy with new buildings under construction. The walks along the canal were a favorite part of my Indy experience. Punctuating into Military Park for a snippet of horn lines or drum lines warming up makes the destination even more appealing. A stop at the Wurlitzer at the Marriott was helpful to ease my mind and soul. The walk back through the Indiana Convention Center fully cleansed my spirit as the minions of middle schoolers marched here and there for rehearsals before they take the field later today. INpact is a hit!
When I saw Sam later in the day, he thanked me and said he had eaten all of the meal that I had given him earlier. I asked him where he slept. He said near the church. He was getting used to being without a blanket.