When I was a teenager, I had hopes of attending Indiana University music school, but I was self taught, and I’d had never studied music. So in the early summer of 1956, after HS graduation, I began weekly round trips by bus to Indianapolis, IN, 60 miles west of my hometown, Richmond, IN. to take drum lessons.
My teacher was the renown jazz drummer Willis Kirk (1928-2016), who taught in the biggest music store in Indianapolis (appropriately named Indiana Music) I didn’t know of Willis at the time and I didn’t choose him-I just called the store and they scheduled me a lesson with Willis, who was one of their teachers.
Willis was a Prince, a gentleman in every way, and an incredible musician. I soon realized how lucky I was to have such a talented and generous teacher. In a small studio in the back of the store, Willis Kirk started me out with drum books: “Stick Control” and the “Podemski” snare drum reading method which we played together each week on rubber practice pads. I don’t remember drums in the studio. I’d never seen a drum pad before and, of course, I bought one, an inexpensive wood model with a slab of rubber glued onto it, mounted on a flimsy folding metal stand.
At my weekly lesson, Willis played on his aluminum metal pad (with a Ludwig logo), while I used my wooden pad. As I remember, Willis’ aluminum pad had a broken stand, so sometimes he would just put it on a chair. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get the wonderful sound that Willis got on his metal pad. I can still hear the warmth of those notes!
I really worked hard, trying sound as good as Willis, but I never could.
I think I was an adequate student, because after those ten weeks I was playing short rolls in the “Stick Control” book and had mastered several “Podemski” solos just in time for my IU audition in September, 1956.
One week, I stayed late after my lesson at the Indiana Music Store to hear Willis play at a jam session at an Indianapolis jazz club on Indiana Avenue, “George’s Bar”. I was under age, but Willis vouched for me and I entered the club with him. Hearing him and other great Indianapolis players was a thrill.
As the summer drew to a close, I knew I was headed for IU as a freshman. Willis had prepared me well. I knew how to count and play 16th notes moving to 8th note triplets a skill I would later expect from younger entrants as an audition for their freshman year at Berklee College.
Still, I couldn’t get the sound that Willis got on that magic pad of his. Near the end of my summer lessons, I inquired about purchasing a metal pad at the Indiana Music Store, but they had none for sale, so in mid-August, I hatched a plan. The store sold deluxe wooden pads mounted on quality metal stands. Willis’s stand was old and in need of repair.
I made an investment-a new deluxe wooden pad with a shiny metal stand. I showed up for my last lesson with Willis with the new pad. He noticed it and gave me a compliment. (Ah-the perfect moment to make my move). “Willis,” I said, “I would be happy to trade you this new pad and stand for your old metal one”. I don’t remember how it went down, but by the end of the lesson we swapped pads. We shook hands, I thanked him for the lessons. He smiled and wished me luck, and I left. On the bus ride home, I almost felt guilty for taking away his special metal practice pad. What a deal! I couldn’t wait for the bus to arrive back home to Richmond, to begin my new life as the drummer who would now sound like the great Willis Kirk.
In my bedroom, I put the pad on a chair and tried it. I hit it a couple of times. “No, that’s not the Willis sound,” I said to myself. I tried moving it around on all kinds of table tops etc., but no luck. I traveled with the pad for years-even had it with me through my army service, but hard as I tried, I could never sound like Willis. Maybe it was his sticks. But no, I must have played hundreds of sticks on that pad. It was quite a disappointment, but it at least gave me motivation to practice.
Years later, I finally I got it-Willis had his sound. It belonged to him alone. After many years of moving from city to city, from apartment to apartment, the pad was lost, but to this day I still hear how good it sounded when Willis played the magic pad, but it was Willis’ touch that was magic!
Goodbye my teacher, and thank you. Rest in peace Dr. Willis Kirk.
Listen to “I hear a Rhapsody,” by Joe Hunt