I always think there’s a band, kid

— Professor Harold Hill in The Music Man

There’s a young man in New Hampshire named Brian Short who I don’t know very well. His dad, Kevin Short, is one of my oldest friends; we met during junior high school back in 1970. But, sadly, I don’t know Brian or his brother Raymond very well.

Yet there’s something important I know about Brian Short. I know that he’s got a fine start in life. That’s true not only because he has fine parents, but also because Brian is fortunate enough to have been in the high school band directed by a teacher who today was named winner of only the second-ever Grammy Music Educator Award.

Brian’s band director is Jared Cassedy of Windham High School in the town of Windham, about 35 miles northwest of Boston and the same distance southeast of New Hampshire’s state capital at Concord.CBS News correspondent Anthony Mason profiled the energetic young teacher today on CBS This Morning.

CBS, which will broadcast the 57th Annual Grammy Awards this Sunday, Feb. 8, tagged Mr. Cassedy as “The Music Man.”

And of course he is. Mason’s profile reveals Cassedy to have the energy and determination of Professor Harold Hill, the shyster seller of uniforms and instruments who magically gives River City, Iowa, the boys band it never knew it wanted, a century ago in The Music Man. Cassedy has the moves of Robert Preston, the great actor-singer-dancer who originated the role of Harold Hill in Meredith Willson’s musical on Broadway and in the movies 55 years ago.

Cassedy lifts his kids to heights they never expected, just as Harold Hill did with his “think system” of instruction — a visualization of playing music that was the only tool the completely untrained and increasingly desperate Hill had to motivate his students and win the love and respect of Marian Paroo, the skeptical town librarian.

Just getting the boys of River City to play a few notes was a feat for Harold Hill. Mr. Cassedy took his band all over New England — I know, because my friend Kevin was a dedicated band dad in the parent support network — and then won contests in Chicago and New York leading to the stage of Carnegie Hall for a recital performance.

You have to put yourself out there to teach kids, keep moving, keep planning, keep organizing, keep inspiring, and keep on top of high schoolers playing and rehearsing what — when you think of it — is an incredible variety of complicated moving parts in dozens of music-making machines.

Harold Hill said, "A man can't turn tail and run just because a little personal risk is involved. What did Shakespeare say? 'Cowards die a thousand deaths, the brave man... only 500?’”

What I’m learning these days is that the great band educators teach that lesson all the time. They teach it first to themselves, and then they teach it to their students.

This past weekend, Kevin’s and my hometown of Westport, Connecticut, observed the memorial service for Jack Adams, the band director who taught us at Long Lots Junior High School and Staples High School. Mr. Adams died at age 88 in January.

Jack Adams was eulogized as being all about teaching kids to take Harold Hill’s brand of Shakespearean risks — though Jack would have labeled Hill’s mangling of the Bard as “cornball.” But at the Unitarian Church service, six former students celebrated his life by forming a one-time only Adams Memorial Brass Ensemble in his honor; you can hear their music on my SoundCloud playlist.

In the playlist above, you can also hear my mother, Denise Taft Davidoff, relate the pride of a town in the accomplishments of its students, and her observations about Jack Adams’ pride in his work. It’s a pride that motivates a lot of musicians, and it makes young musicians into better young people.

Which is why I’m sure about Brian Short.He’s been educated through music, and that’s great. Not that I imagine it was ever too much of a problem, but I’m sure the days are long past of young Brian causing any River City “trouble” to his mother, Mary, by rebuckling his knickerbockers below the knee, keeping a dime-store novel in the corncrib, memorizing jokes from Captain Billy’s Whiz-Bang or using the harsh language of “swell” or “so’s your old man.”

What’s most remarkable is that the so many great music educators really do know violinist Mischa Elman’s great line that “Practice” is the way to get to Carneige Hall.

Brian’s been there with his award-winning music teacher.

My daughter, Sarah Ellen Davidoff, got to Carnegie Hall, too, with her music teacher from Walnut Hills High School in Cincinnati, Ohio. The school played in a music festival a few years ago.

And my nephew, Josh Davidoff of Evanston, Illinois, got to Carnegie Hall most recently of all, in summer 2014 with the National Youth Orchestra of the USA.

I’m sorry Jack Adams is gone. He was part of a brilliant music faculty in my hometown. Yet there are brilliant music educators teaching the formative lessons of life to students everywhere. When one dies, another follows a week later with a Grammy.

There will always be a band, kid. But the “rows and rows of the finest virtuosos” following the 76 trombones and the 110 coronets are the teachers, winners with or without a Grammy.

And now, because if you’re here, I know you want it. So here’s this: