(bright music) - Hi.

My story starts in August of 1986.

I was a freshman at the Eastman School of Music with big plans to play percussion in the New York Philharmonic or the Philadelphia Orchestra or the Cleveland Orchestra.

I had to decide which of the Big Five orchestras deserve my talents, but I thought it was gonna all work out.

And part of the process of orientation of Eastman School of Music, every class heard from our great Dean of Students, who was named Paul Burgett, and he had graduated from the Eastman School of Music in the early 1970s with a degree in viola performance.

And he was drafted by the Army.

So he signed up for Army music, and he went to basic training and then reported to the Armed Forces School of Music in Virginia Beach, Virginia, for his advanced training.

And he showed up with enthusiasm, and there was a line for the staff sergeant, and he said, "Paul Burgett, reporting violist."

The staff sergeant said, "Good morning, Burgett.

You're a tubist.

Please go over there with the brass players."

And Dean Burgett said, "I think there's been a mistake.

I'm a violist."

The staff sergeant looked very carefully at his manifest and said, "There's no mistake.

You're a tubist."

Well, Paul Burgett said it kind of got his dander up, and he said, "I was gonna teach the staff sergeant a lesson."

And I said, "Staff Sergeant, I'm a graduate of the Eastman School of Music with a degree in the viola."

And the staff sergeant picked up a tuba and he said, "Well, graduate of the Eastman School of Music, here's your tuba."

(people laughing) It was a great story, but I didn't pay much attention to it 'cause it sounded like it was for people that didn't have a clear plan like me.

I didn't think I needed this information.

(people laughing) Well, fast forward nine years, I am now a graduate of Eastman School of Music and I am driving to Norfolk, Virginia, with my wife and our newborn son, and I have a position as a percussionist with the Virginia Symphony.

A year later, because I couldn't make ends meet, I also became a member of the newly formed Virginia Arts Festival staff.

And six years after that, I was named the producer and director of the arts festival's event, the Virginia International Tattoo.

It's not a body ink kind of tattoo, it's a military tradition with marching bands, bagpipes, a lot of spectacle, and it's a position for which I am woefully, unimaginably unqualified.

(people laughing) And the big staff sergeant in the sky has handed me my tuba.

(people laughing) I'm a civilian, I have a brother that's active duty military, I'm a fan of the military, but I am not a subject matter expert.

My favorite kind of music is classical music, not marching band music.

I know absolutely nothing about the bagpipes.

And the biggest thing that haunts me to this day is I really struggle with military time.

Seems like a trivial thing, but try leading a meeting as a young leader and you're trying to tell people when you're gonna see 'em next and you can't do the math.

(people laughing) It's intimidating.

And they all know you're trying to do the math and they've already done it.

But bit by bit, I've kind of found a place in this tattoo world.

I'm gonna fast forward to 2007.

The most anticipated part of the show that year is, for the first time, we were gonna have the Republic of South Korea Traditional Army Band.

I had seen 'em at the Edinburgh tattoo and they were magnificent.

Incredible energy, incredible esprit de corps, uniforms, dancing, drumming, and yet totally different music.

I knew the audience would love them.

It took two years to do all the legwork to make this possible.

It was something I was so excited about.

And they arrived on a Saturday, got settled in, and on Sunday they rehearsed for the first time.

And as high as my expectations were, they blew 'em out of the water.

What I had seen in Edinburgh was nothing compared to what they were bringing to Virginia.

There's incredible respect for the United States in South Korea.

It goes all the way back to the Korean War.

They had brought their best.

They had rehearsed daily for six months.

They were crushing it.

And the very next day, Monday, April 16th, 2007, tragedy struck.

There was a terrible shooting at Virginia Tech.

I was overwhelmed with sadness.

So many of us had connections with people there.

And I was thinking, what should we do?

Should we have a moment of silence at the Tattoo?

And the Korean leadership came to me and said they would be leaving the next day and they weren't performing.

And I was shocked, I couldn't figure out what was happening.

And what I was able to piece together is the shooter was a Virginia Tech student, had lived in the United States since he was eight, but he was born in Korea.

And in Korea, they have this incredibly strong sense of family.

And every performer here felt terribly ashamed and embarrassed and afraid.

And I said to him, "Please don't go.

Let's talk this through."

So we scheduled a phone call for the next morning, a very high-stakes phone call with me, totally unqualified, leading a group from Virginia, and very senior officials in South Korea on the other end of the line.

And they explained their concerns to me and they boiled down to this, "If the circumstances were reversed and an American group was in Korea, we would recommend they go home immediately."

Did I agree?

And I said no.

And somehow I knew what to say, is that we're all feeling heartbroken and you're gonna be a bright spot for this audience.

We're gonna keep you safe.

We're gonna eliminate any unnecessary appearances.

We're just gonna have you at rehearsals and shows, but you gotta stay.

And very reluctantly, they agreed to stay.

And three days later was opening night and they received a standing ovation.

And you could have seen the looks in their eyes of relief and amazement at our audience, and almost a tiny bit of pride.

I felt so good to be part of that audience, and they felt welcome.

It was an incredible moment.

I'm gonna fast forward to one more cool moment, 2023.

The highlight of the show is we're trying to bring a group from Ukraine to the Tattoo.

And you can't get a military man 'cause all the men are fighting the war.

But we found this incredible group of young women that danced and drummed called the Ukrainian Crazy Drummers.

And they reached out, and they wanted to come.

But they said, "How in the world can we come?

There's no flights out of Ukraine.

The US embassy's closed.

We can't get visa.

How could this be possible?"

And bit by bit, we put together a little plan, kinda like "Mission Impossible."

There's a country next door called Moldova, I'd never heard of it, but it's a country.

And there's a US embassy that's open, and they're willing to take group appointments, and they have an exception that they'll accept Ukrainians 'cause the embassy's closed there.

You can charter a bus from Odesa, Ukraine, to Chisinau, Moldova, and make it just in time with the war curfew.

They have to surrender their passports so you can get a hostel for them for two nights, and it's gonna work, but anyone under 18 needs a notarized letter from their family if they're allowed to be there.

Everything's working great.

We are texting with the embassy hourly.

And then it turns out, all those letters were written in Ukrainian and they have to be in English, and it's all coming apart.

And somehow, some Good Samaritan, who I'll never know who it is, figured out how to translate the letters.

I get a text at 2:00 in the morning.

There's a photo of 26 young women on a bus that we chartered heading back to Ukraine with their visas, and they're coming to Virginia in April.

And they come and they crush it.

And they're so welcomed, and they have a week to forget about the war.

And this is my tuba.

I like this work.

I'm still figuring it out, I still struggle with the military time, (people laughing) but I'm now the longest tenured producer/director of a military tattoo anywhere in the world, and I found a home.

Who would've guessed it?

Not me, but maybe Dean Paul Burgett.

(people laughing) Thank you.

(people cheering and clapping) (bright music)