My association with the band started when I was in grade school and barely learning to play the clarinet. My Uncle Nick taught me more about this instrument when I reached first year high school. From then on everything else is by ear (uwido). I gradually learn the notes and all the rudiments of playing with the band. 

      During that time the Banda Morriz played only in funerals and special occasions. My first kadimya (band rehearsal) was quite a shock to me because the music pieces we were rehearsing were handwritten! I couldn’t hardly read the notes and I think Tata Mianong, the conductor gave me a break every time I made a mistake or ulpot, because he probably thought that I was just a novice and therefore couldn’t read music notes yet.  

      Our first gala uniform was simple—white pants, blue shirt and white strap across the shoulder and to the waist, and no hats! As the band started to become popular the number of players increased. We found ourselves rehearsing more often and reading printed music pieces. I often switched playing tenor sax and clarinet.  

      Then we got “sita” (engagement) in nearby towns during fiestas. The band became one hell of a band to reckon with. We played during the serenata against famous bands at the time—Banda 5, Malabon4, Taytay Bata, San Pedro (Diko Lucio’s band in Angono), Betes Pampanga, etc. We would have played against Band 8 of Cardona too but couldn’t. Banda Ocho and we are one! And then the fun began. 

      One memorable asiste was in Pambisang, Mindoro. We traveled by Raytranco up to Batangas and from there by ferryboat to Pambisang. This was the farthest the band had ever played. It was a thrill for us. During the procession at sea we were splashed with salt water. We just wiped dry the instrument and pay no attention to it until after three days at home when I noticed my metal clarinet has rusted! 

      There was the time when our tambol mayor (drum major) was the late Tako Sta. Maria. He lost the whole band. We followed his directions—left, right and around the street and we couldn’t go on farther. Dead End Street. I think this happened in Sta. Mesa. Aba ay balik kaagar at baka mahabol ng ingkargado. 

      The senior musicians considered as magugulo—Gilbert, Jorge, Edmund, Ging and me. We always played tricks to other band members during rehearsal. Francing Felicano (the conductor) always zeroed in on us. Sometimes he let us repeat sections of the music we are rehearsing even if we played it right the first time. Gilbert was number one manunukso. During one rehearsal Gilbert told Tako to hurry up reading the music because everybody else is done and would like to open the next page! 

      There was the time when during rehearsal breaks the magugulo would hide some instruments or laced the bukilya with pepper! One cymbal was nowhere to be found. The baketa of the drum was found inside the bell of the bajo. They know whom to blame right away. Gilbert! And this guy even when in the intablado during serenata and on “count” would comb his hair or fix his uniform in the middle of a selection! He always played frank on Tako. He would intentionally lose count of “rest” and would tell Tako – “o, tayo na ready?” and of course Tako would start playing while everyone else is counting – na ulpot tuloy! The rehearsal was fun although Mando and Francing sometimes wouldn’t tolerate it. 

      One time we were tired after the Flores De Mayo paseo and resting at Tata Mianong’s house when all of a sudden someone dropped the cymbals on the concrete stairs. The weariness disappeared and every one ran after the culprit. Sino pa eh di si Gilbert!  

      Morriz Band even joined a parade and performed a concert in Baguio City during Mitra’s election campaign. I remember we forgot to bring the bell (to be used in 1812 Overture). Inciong and I went to Teachers’ Camp (I know the place since I worked there during summer) and borrowed the school’s bell. It was a nice free vacation trip for all us. Also Mitra’s people gave each of us a basket full of vegetables. We were like celebrities when we arrived home with everlasting flower-leis hanging around our neck—sikat! 

      Then we played in Zambales and performed against big famous bands during the serenata. One thing good with the serenata is that there are no judges. No winners and no losers. The people are the judges. People just appreciate band performances. 

      Morriz Band has quite a following during my time and until now. But during our time busloads (Raytranco) followed us from town to town. I forgot the term for these guys. Inciong might know it. But they are the “mirons”. They were there in the rehearsals and in serenatas. I noticed that some of them while riding their kalabaw on the way to the palayan would be whistling our selections. One guy from Balante could whistle the whole 1812 overture! And what was amazing with those mirons was that they already know the band’s repertoire yet they don’t get tired hearing the same pieces over and over again. Even during rehearsal they clapped and hollered after its selection. 

      When Boy San Jose starts his trombone solo of “Milagrosa” it was dead silence. Perhaps wanting for Boy not to miss his timing or miss a note here and there, especially the part where he would play a very low note and drag the trombone slide all the way to a high note. In a trombone it is the most difficult and spectacular thing to do. The mirons reaction after Boy hits the high note is compared to watching a basketball game when in one second one made a winning shot! 

      Those were my Morriz Band days. In 1962 before I left Morong Banda Morriz gave a concert in my honor at the plaza. That was my last concert with them.  

      I miss the bus trips. I miss the kalamay, the sidira, the magraraga but not the paseo. I miss the serenata nights. I miss the practical jokes done by Gilbert, the alto sax player who is now a successful attorney. (If his clients only know.) 

      Band members came from every walk of life. They share the same aspirations, i.e., to bring life to music, whether it is for rapit pare or in front of thousands of listeners at the Luneta Park. The friendship brought by playing music together is unforgettable. I miss you guys. 

      I've been missing the Banda Morriz band for the last 40 years now. My only consolation was that, now I have cassette tape and video concert by the New Morriz Band. Thank you Inciong for sending me these life time mementos.  

      I know that there are more stories to tell. I hope others who were with me during that time feel the same way I do every time the selections we used to play are played over the radio or TV concert. I always brag among my American friends that our band, Banda Morriz could play 1812 Overture blind folded. Walang ulputan!