"That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." “The New York State Freeway's closed, man. Far out!”

Were there any two events that would so define an era more than the landing of Apollo 11 on the moon and, less than a month later, the landing of a few hundred thousand people at Max Yasgur’s farm in northern New York State? If anything, the 60’s closed with a year of hope.  In January of 1969, Richard Nixon was inaugurated as the 37th President of the United States.  The world heard his proclamation to “end the war in Vietnam” and watched as the first peace talks began in Paris soon after.  Later in the year, the U.S. made their first troop withdrawals in what was now a very contentious war.  And who could forget ‘Broadway’ Joe Namath predicting victory for his underdog New York Jets in Super Bowl III, then promptly going out and beating the powerhouse Baltimore Colts.  The year gave us the first Concorde flight plus, of probably the greatest interest to what you are reading now, the first electronic link-up of four U.S. universities in what was called the ARPAnet (Advanced Research Projects Agency).  This was the initial foundation that would eventually be built into the internet.  In an interesting bit of trivia, the first four computers that were connected were at UCLA, Stanford, UC Santa Barbara and the University of Utah.  When UCLA first attempted to log into Stanford's computer by typing "log win", UCLA crashed their computer when they typed the letter 'g' – aaaahh, the joys … Of course, 1969 was not without its problems.  A brutal war in Biafra left 3 million people starving and in need of international aid.  Britain sent troops to Northern Ireland following increased violence.   Hurricane Camille made landfall near the mouth of the Mississippi as a Category 5 hurricane, killing 259 people.  It was the year of Charles Manson’s infamous reign of terror.  Senator Ted Kennedy lost all hope of ever achieving the presidency when he put his car and his passenger, 29-year-old Mary Jo Kopechne, into the Chappaquiddick River.  Following successful concerts in Woodstock, Newport, Atlanta and Atlantic City, tragedy struck at Altamont, California in December.  Organized by the Rolling Stones, filmed in the documentary “Gimme Shelter” and with the Hell’s Angels hired to ‘protect the equipment’, one homicide and 3 other accidental deaths were reported as ‘the Angels’ battled with the crowd. In the media, the year saw the release of the movies:  Easy Rider, Midnight Cowboy, the Wild Bunch and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.  In January, the Beatles held their last public performance on the roof of the Apple Records -- broken up by police after only 42 minutes.  Paul McCartney married Linda Eastman in March, while John and Yoko staged their first “Bed-In For Peace” in Amsterdam.  And the Abbey Road album was released in September.  Construction of Walt Disney World began in May and television saw the airing of the first Monte Python episode, the creation of the Public Broadcasting System in the U.S., and the first episode of Sesame Street.  And finally, Brian Jones quit the Rolling Stones and was found dead from an apparent drinking/drugs binge, a few months later. Yes, 1969 was the perfect year to end the 60’s, full of hope in many ways, full of change in many others, and not without the problems that had plagued every year during this era.  And, of course, music was right there to tell the story. 

The band had made the most of its first two years and by the beginning of 1969, it had become quite well-known in the Hamilton/Burlington area.  The boys had played locally just about everywhere that could be played – all the local high schools and many of the surrounding universities, tobacco festivals down in Simcoe, the beach at Peacock Point and Crystal Beach on Lake Erie, Sauble Beach on Lake Huron (all favourite summer teen ‘hang outs’).  They’d played at McMaster University and had played the Royal Connaught Hotel in Hamilton for a few different special events.  They’d been in the Club Boogaloo (the former Chandelier Club in Hamilton), St. Nick’s (also in Hamilton), the Castle in St. Catharines (the same time that the Barbarians were playing), Sportsman’s Lanes, Mother’s Place, and they had also branched out the previous year to take in some of the northern Ontario towns, as well.  By 1969, the band had developed quite a large fan base – I know, as I’d heard of them myself, gone to see them, and was rather impressed with what I saw.  And with this popularity came more changes.  Although the band members continued to hold down day jobs or were still in school, all their remaining time was devoted to the band – either practicing or playing their shows.  And this heavy band focus yielded more personel changes during the spring.  1969 was a busy year for the Brass Union.

The first change came front and centre.  Mike Lansbury decided to leave the band to pursue a career that would eventually lead him to CBC-TV, Canada, as a producer.  In stepped Dave Thrasher, or probably more accurately, in danced their new lead singer/frontman.  With Dave came not only a fully competent lead vocalist, but also the ‘gift of dance’ – as some have said.  Dave is shown in both the pictures to the left and right, in the centre, wearing the light-coloured shirt.  Of course, dancing abilities don’t show up that well in still photographs. Somewhat ironically, about the same time, Dave Balan, the band’s drummer and then leader concluded that he just wasn’t able to put the time needed into his work with the band, which opened the door for another excellent local musician, John Hannah – pictured to the left on the yellow drum riser.  John, like Dave, came as a two-package deal.  Not only was he an excellent drummer, but his voice was of ‘lead vocalist’ quality.  Within a short while, John and Dave had teamed together to perform what was one of the most memorable versions of Iron Butterfly’s “Ina Gadda Da Vida” that I have ever seen.  In what would eventually become the main focus of the band’s last ‘set’ of the night, when John started his extended drum solo, the lights would fade to black and Dave would start to dance, all over the stage, right to left and back, with just a strobe light for illumination.  It was just John’s drumming, Dave’s dancing, and a single strobe light which gave the illusion of watching a silent movie.  This would go on some nights for over 15 minutes, then the band would trickle back on stage and pick up the end of the song.  I can still see it vividly, 40 years later. The next person to move on to other things was Mike Thornton, the bass player – pictured below.  Mike, like Dave Balan before him, just couldn’t ‘do’ the amount of time necessary to stay in the band, so he gave his notice.  By 1969, Burlington Central Arena and Park were a great place to hear live bands.  And the boys from the band, not only played these gigs regularly, but also spent time watching other bands perform.  “I remember that we were there watching this group called ‘Din’.  They had this fabulous bass player in their band”, said John Willett recently.  “We made up our minds that day that if we should ever need a bass player, this is who we should get.”  So when Mike gave notice of intent to leave the band, the boys recruited Terry Bramhall as their new bass player. The pictures here were taken while the band was doing what they were becoming very good at doing – playing a local high school dance.  While the band continued to branch out to venues farther and farther away, they continued to play locally to what were becoming very large and loud crowds. With the addition of ‘yours truly’ on trombone a short while later, the Brass Union found themselves as an ‘established’ band, into their third year, fully booked – they played every weekend – and they had just replaced nearly half the band before the year was even half over.  One would think that this would slow a band down a bit, but I know from experience as I came on board the band, that this was not the case.  These guys knew what they wanted and knew how to get there.  The second half of the year would be rather memorable for the band.

John Willett and Darrell Nameth backstage durning one of the 1969 gigs.

Len Blum and Bruce Wilson, the resident guitarist/comedians.

By the time 1969 rolled around, I’d been playing the horn for about six years.  I loved music, and my high school time by this point was entirely spent in the music room – all day, every day – trying to learn, at least a bit, of every instrument in the band.  I spent my school days sitting in with each music class, playing something different with each.  I joined every band I could – the school band, the Navy Band, dance bands, small rock bands, even the city’s Philharmonic Orchestra for a while.  As I said, I loved music, and my high school marks showed it – (sorry, mom).  When John Willett told me from school band practice one night that the Brass Union was planning on replacing their trombone player, you better believe that I was interested.  My rock band at the time was opening a show for the Brass Union at Pillar Square in the basement of the Y.M.C.A. on James St. S. in Hamilton (one of the top teen clubs of the time) in a few weeks and John told me that they would be ‘checking me out’ that night.  When my band finished their opening set, Darrell, the leader of the band, walked up to me as I came off stage and said (and I’ll never forget this):  “Ok, you’re in.  Rule number one:  Don’t cut your hair.”  And that was it.  I was now a member of the Brass Union and showed up for practice the next week.  One would think that the events of the next few years would be quite clear for me as I was there, but not so.  The following few years for me were so intense and unbelievable (at times) that now, 40 years later, much of it has flowed together into a sea of indistinguishable pieces.  I do remember that one of my first shows with the band was at Burlington Central Arena in front of hundreds of fans, rows of young girls screaming as the band played their show.  It was there that I first heard the words that Dick taught the boys:  “Don’t go out into the audience between ‘sets’ for you’ll never live up to what they think you are” -- which was quite alright by me, let me tell you.  It was scary out there.

The band in late 1969, with Paul Goodrow on trombone and Terry Bramhall on bass

The Brass Union Band -- late 1969 Back row, left to right:  Darrell Nameth, Bruce Wilson, Terry Bramhall and John Hannah Front row, left to right:  Don Berryman, Len Blum, David Thrasher, Cliff Hunt and John Willett

With all the changes that happened in the band before summer, new promotion and pictures were needed, and it took the band no time at all to get them ready.  For me, as a new member, the first few months were intense.  Not only did I have to learn their show, but I had to learn the choreography – “Just follow me”, said Darrell before my first gig.  Yeah, right!  But everyone else had been through it as well, so I had lots of help and in no time, felt right at home. Meanwhile, the shows and concerts and dances just kept coming.  One of my earlier shows with the band was playing in front of Hamilton City Hall for the Annual Miles for Millions Walk in May.  30,000 people started that walk in the morning, myself and a few other band members included.  The black band truck (pictured below with Darrell, and its sister, the white equipment truck) drove around the route a few hours later, picking up the boys and taking us to City Hall to set up.  21,000 people finished the walk that day, and the Brass Union was there playing at the finish line.  I’d never played in front of so many people before.  Any stage fright I may have had was being erased rather quickly.

You can’t read it with such a poor reproduction of a 40-year- old poster, but the name Brass Union is right up there on the billing with all the other top Canadian acts of the time:  the Guess Who, Five Man Electrical Band, Motherlode, Lighthouse, Rhinocerous along with local favourites, Nucleus and Major Hoople’s Boarding House Band.  The festival started on August 29 and went until September 1st.  "We played that festival and I remember seeing The Guess Who for the first time and "Laughing", their second or third big single, was just breaking on radio", said Cliff, recently. The poster above is reprinted from Nicholas Jennings’ book, “Before the Goldrush”, and from the first page of his book, he says:  “My friend Peter and I missed out on Woodstock.  In the summer of ’69, we were simply too young to make the trek.  But we did get to go to an all-Canadian version of that historic festival.  Held in a campground near Orangeville, Ontario, over the Labour Day weekend, the Freak Out at Rockhill Park featured no fewer than twenty-one of Canada’s bands on three stages, including one on a small lake.

Following the very successful show at Rockhill Park, the band packed up their equipment and headed down the highway to Grand Bend, along the shores of Lake Huron.  They had a date to play there the next evening and on the beach during the day. “Playing Grand Bend in '69, a year after the motorcycle riots, was a big deal for us, as was playing the matinee on the beach. I was talking with Paul Goodrow (the band’s first trombone player) recently and he heard a radio commentary about us back then with the owner of the dance hall where we played. I can't remember the name of it and it's since burned down. But the owner was recounting how nervous they were about that particular Labour Day weekend and weren't certain about this band that they had booked. But the band impressed enough that he remembered that time and how good the band sounded – even after all these years.” – recalls Dave Balan. Terri Citroen remembers:  “There was another band playing and the boys were on second. The moment they ambled on stage, one by one, picking up their instruments and playing as each member arrived on stage, the crowd went wild.  This was on the Saturday night.  Sunday was on the beach – a beach surrounded by 15,000 teenagers all waiting to hear The Brass Union. It was marvelous, I can tell you.  One of their best numbers was a slower, driving arrangement of "Love Potion # 9", rather in the style of “The Stripper”. The audience erupted and many of them started to strip their clothing off during the number!  It was hilarious. One of the security cops on duty told me that this was, by far, the best band he had witnessed during the Labour Day weekends and he hoped they would come back again. One of the reasons he gave me wasn't just because of their talent but because the crowds were so well-behaved and still having a great time.” A few weeks later, they were back home, playing another ‘combined gig’ with local favourites “The Five Man Electrical Band” and “the Jameson Roberts Blues Band” at Central Arena in Burlington.  Then it was off to the University of Western Ontario for dance put on by the Engineering students.  The band played another ‘combined gig’ that fall with the newly-formed Canadian band, Lighthouse and the Turtles and held their own quite nicely, if I remember right.  And while I’m on the topic of McMaster University, it should be mentioned that the year before, the band played on the soundtrack to Ivan Reitman’s first film “Orientation” – yes, that Ivan Reitman.  Of course, after the success of Ivan’s later work in the Ghostbusters and Beethoven movies, his first 23- minute film about campus life is largely forgotten, now. Nevertheless, with the success and the types of work that the Brass Union was finding for themselves in late 1969, a decision would have to be made about the members that were still attending high school.  John Hannah was the first of the ‘high school guys’ to find another way.  He showed up at a gig one night with this ‘package’ under his arm – a correspondence course to finish high school.  Yes, of course, we all had a great laugh about it, but he was determined, not only to finish his high school education (he was in his last year), but to not have to go back to a formal classroom to do it.  Within a couple of weeks in late 1969, the decision was made – we would all quit school and be full-time musicians. I remember the day I quit high school quite vividly.  I was in math class with John Willett.  I didn't usually visit any room in the school except the music room back then, but that day, I made sure I was there.  The band trucks pulled up in front of the school and Darrell came up to the classroom and knocked on the door.  When the teacher answered the door, Darrell looked into the classroom and said, “C’mon guys.  We’re all quitting school and going on the road.  The trucks are waiting out front.”  This let out a big cheer in the classroom.  I remember asking,  “OK, who wants some books?”  Hands went up and I passed text books one way and notebooks the other, then left the class to the cheering of the students, and walked out the front door of the school to the waiting band trucks -- talk about an 'exit' from high school.  With a quick stop at home to pick up my horn and stage clothes, plus a couple of other stops at some other high schools, we were off to a gig that night up in Northern Ontario.  We also did Sault Ste. Marie and Wawa, Ontario on that trip before we came back home. Unfortunately, being on the road with a rock band and trying to complete high school correspondence courses yielded rather poor results for everyone.  John Hannah did the best.  He completed 5 of the 24 or so lessons – but then, he had a head start.  I managed to do three before my high school education was officially over.  By the beginning of 1970, all the members of the Brass Union band were full-time musicians.  And for the moment anyway, this would be our life.

Defining an era