Mike Gowen could moonwalk.
I know this sounds absurd. But it is absolutely true.
Let me set the scene. It’s 1981. Mike and I were sophomores at Miami Norland Senior High School in Miami (now Miami Gardens), Florida. Being a sophomore at Norland was essentially like being a freshman, since it was a school that had only 10th, eleventh, and twelfth-grade students. We had both been in band in junior high, where we met, and naturally took band once we arrived at Norland.
High school band was nothing like junior high band, we discovered. First off, the Viking band was in the middle of a huge change. The long-time, highly regarded band director at Norland had moved on. In his place was a young director whose name I have forgotten. He found himself in the midst of insubordination and turmoil, as the seniors who were used to the previous band director’s way of doing things were rebelling daily to a new style of leadership. And to be honest, some of this was culturally charged, as the new band director was of Cuban descent and the band was largely black.
Oh, I guess I should mention at this point that Mike and I were the only white kids in the marching band in 1981. Not that this mattered much to us. But it was strange, as fresh sophomores, to watch this ugliness unfold and not know how to navigate it. I could look across and see Mike in the sax section, being attentive and wanting to contribute, but all he could do was look back at me in the trombone section and shrug, as the drum major and the band director argued about how to prepare for the upcoming marching season.
Somewhere around here, I had decided NOT to navigate these turbulent waters any longer and got a schedule change. I decided to join chorus instead.
But just as I was leaving, the band director relented and decided to let the kids take over the marching band part of the season. From what I remember, they found direction just in time for the big rivalry game against Carol City.
Now you have to understand, Miami Norland was a marching band with a tradition in high-stepping showmanship. This kind of marching band is cut in the vein of college marching bands like those from Florida A&M. If you are not familiar with this style, you should check it out. It is fun, with an emphasis on bombast, beat, and showmanship. The drum major and students knew that Norland versus Carol City was as much a battle of the bands as it was a football game. They knew they had to have something fun and innovative in order to stack up against our most hated rivals.
In my mind’s eye, I can still see it. A formation of Miami Norland’s finest marching Vikings, in lockstep, MOONWALKING in unison in front of a screaming crowd at Miami-Dade North’s football stadium. And in the middle of them, a white dot of salt in a sea of pepper, a moonwalking Mike Gowen, complete with Jew-fro popping out around his marching hat.
A year later, when Mike found himself alongside me in the chorus bass section, I asked him why he stuck it out. He said he really just loved playing the tenor sax and didn’t want to give it up. I think he always regretted that.
After high school, I lost touch with Mike for a while. That was until social media, where we reconnected and enjoyed many years as friends. Like many of our generation, Mike moonwalked across a spectrum of undiagnosed isms and syndromes. He definitely could be challenging, and I mean that in a literal sense. He would challenge your thinking, your facts, and sometimes, your patience. But he was always kind at heart, even in his more passionate exhibitions. I could always bring him back to our shared experiences, music, and those sort of connections shared by old pals in the schoolyard.
When his sister Cindy reached out and told me Mike had passed, I didn’t know exactly how to process it. Mike had lost his wife Phyllis to cancer a few years ago, and I feel like he also lost a large part of himself as well. Such a shame, because with her and the dogs, he had found his place in the world. He had purpose and peace. I hope he has found that now in their rainbow bridge afterlives.
Rest easy, my friend. Vikings forever.
CODA:
Cindy posted along this viewing recommendation. There is a Netflix documentary called “7 Days Out: Westminster Dog Show.” This is Mike and Phyllis on top of their world. If you haven’t seen it, you should. It’s a great way to remember them.
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt9472244
