Run to the Light was written for Eastman School of Music's centennial celebration. It was premiered by Eastman Wind
Ensemble on Oct. 19, 2022. The piece is dedicated to a thousand or so very special people in Victoria, Texas.
A newly hired band director at my high school had a diploma hanging up in his office.
"What's that?" I asked.
"It's from Eastman," he said.
"What's Eastman?" I asked again.
"It's a music conservatory," he said.
I left his office thinking to myself, "What's a music conservatory?"
That was my junior year of high school, and that's how foreign this whole classical music thing was to me. Fast forward
one year later. I auditioned at Eastman and got in. This was due in large part to this teacher, his guidance, and my own
luck that he took a job teaching music in small town Victoria, Texas, where I lived. Thank you again, Mr. Mikula.
When I told my mom I got accepted, she didn't congratulate me. Well, of course she did, but not right away. The first
thing she said was "how are we going to pay for it?" My parents didn't go to college, but are hard-working, smart
people who still make their living cutting hair. They did everything they could to make music part of my life. Paying for
college though, especially at a school like Eastman, was far beyond anything they had saved or planned for.
My parents put together whatever funds they could and did what everyone does in Texas during a time of need: they
organized a bar-b-cue benefit. It's a go-fund me of sorts, but an in-person one with BBQ, beans, rice and all the fixings.
One of my dad's regulars was a writer for the local paper and wrote a charming story about my parents, my
opportunity to attend Eastman, and about the upcoming BBQ benefit. Local restaurants donated food, and my parents
and an assembly line of volunteers served plates to friends, family and members of our community who showed up to
give their support and enjoy a hot meal. There was even an auction with one of those fast-talking auctioneers helping
the crowd bid on donated items.
My parents hosted this benefit for four summers, and each time, they raised $10,000 for my college tuition, with over
1,000 people attending each year. This is still incomprehensible to me. Meanwhile, Eastman provided me with a
generous yearly scholarship to ease the cost of tuition, which helped greatly. My journey to Eastman was looking more
and more possible, thanks in part to this scholarship, and of all things, BBQ. But we still weren't quite there.
One day, Mary Lou Urban, an unassuming family friend of ours, walked into the barber shop to see my mom for her
regularly scheduled perm. This time, Mrs. Urban came in holding a small envelope with my mom's name on it. Inside
was a gift: a personal check for $10,000. My mom cried, Mrs. Urban cried. But that's not all. Each summer for four years,
she gave my mom a check for this same amount. Mrs. Urban is no longer with us, but what she did for me and my
family is unforgettable. My mom refers to her as my angel. I do too. Between the community's support, Eastman's
scholarship, Mrs. Urban's gifts, and my parent's own hard work and sacrifice, I got to Eastman.
20 years later, I find myself at Eastman again, this time as a visiting teacher to step in for the one and only, Michael
Burritt, my former Eastman professor who is on a sabbatical leave. What an honor. I return with my beautiful wife,
Amanda, who I met on Gibbs St. when we were both students. This music is dedicated to all of the supporters in my
hometown community, Mr. Mikula, Mrs. Urban, my parents, and all of the people who helped me run to my light. I carry
them with me, in my te