On a Thursday night in Galveston, a 13-year-old saxophone player may find a chair beside a 92-year-old saxophone player. The age difference is striking, but perhaps not as striking as what the two musicians have in common: Neither had to audition for the chair.

 Neither had to prove anything before walking through the door. And neither is expected to be anything more than a person who wants to play music. 

 That simple idea has been at the heart of the Galveston Concert Band for a decade. The ensemble, originally known as the Galveston Community Band, will mark its 10th anniversary this fall with a free concert on Saturday, October 24, at Sacred Heart Catholic Church. 

 What began in 2016 with 17 musicians rehearsing in a church choir room has grown into a group of more than 50 players whose ages, backgrounds and musical experience span generations. Founder and director Doyle Neuwiller said the band grew from something he and fellow retired music educator Jack Sheaffer believed was missing on the island. 

 “There was a local void in an area that contained hundreds, if not thousands, of former school musicians who, for one reason or another, no longer have an opportunity to play their instruments,” Neuwiller said. 

 The two suspected there were plenty of people who might like to play again if someone simply gave them a place to do it. They were right. 

 “People from all corners have expressed an immediate interest,” Neuwiller said, “and the membership began to grow.” 

 The numbers tell part of the story. Over 10 years, 374 musicians have passed through the band’s ranks. Members have played 819 songs and performed at more than 30 venues around the island. 

 In recent years, membership has held steady at roughly 50 to 60 musicians. But members say statistics are not what keeps them returning on Thursday nights. 

 The real draw is more personal: friendship, belonging and the chance to reclaim a part of themselves many thought they had left behind years ago. Some arrive carrying an instrument they have played most of their lives. Others arrive carrying doubts. 

 “I wouldn’t even know how to hold the horn anymore” is a refrain Neuwiller said he has heard repeatedly. So is, “I don’t even remember the fingerings.” 

 Clarinet player Diana Bartula understood the hesitation. She spotted a newspaper item about the fledgling band and decided to take a chance. 

 “I hadn’t played in 40 years,” Bartula said. “But I bought some reeds and showed up at rehearsal.” 

 She is hardly alone. Neuwiller said numerous members have returned after 40 years or more away from their instruments. 

 Some musicians continued playing into their 80s and 90s, remaining with the band until they physically could no longer participate. “Music filled their lives to the very end,” he said. 

 French horn player Janene Davison returned after nearly 35 years. Her first rehearsal came with a little insurance. 

 “I literally had my fingering chart on my stand next to my music,” Davison said. “And I still refer to that fingering chart.” 

 She quickly discovered she did not have much reason to be self-conscious. “The people were so friendly,” she said. “And there are so many good musicians that you can kinda fake it and blend in.” 

 That may be why the band’s no-audition, no-judgment philosophy matters so much. Community ensembles can sound intimidating to a rusty former musician who remembers scales, chair placements, contests and the fear of missing a note. 

 The Galveston Concert Band was deliberately designed to remove that barrier. Neuwiller said he personally welcomes prospective members and tells them something they may not expect to hear from a band director: Nobody cares if they play every note incorrectly. 

 “The only requirement for being a member is that they enjoy playing the music, however good or bad that might be,” he said. Rehearsals are intentionally relaxed because, he said, musicians will not keep coming back if making music becomes another source of pressure. 

“Rehearsals must be stress free and fun,” he said. 

 Flute player Karla Mock said she was recruited when her son was in fifth grade. She wanted him to see that music did not have to end with school. 

 “I wanted to show my son that music was a life-long skill,” Mock said. “I was worried about sounding silly, but I went anyway.” 

 Bartula said playing together creates an almost immediate connection. “There’s an instant camaraderie of playing music together,” she said. “You all have this ‘secret language’ of music that you collectively speak.” 

 The band itself began with two men who had spent their careers teaching that language. Neuwiller and Sheaffer taught band and orchestra at Stephen F. Austin Middle School and retired together in 2014. 

 For the next two years, they talked about creating an island ensemble for musicians who did not have a place in organizations such as the Galveston Symphony or Beach Band. What they envisioned was different: a band where everybody could play. 

 Sheaffer kept pushing. Neuwiller, meanwhile, said retirement did not particularly agree with him. “I was absolutely bored after retirement,” he said. 

 Then one day, Sheaffer came to his house, raised the idea again, and Neuwiller relented. “OK … Let’s do it,” he said. 

 The first rehearsal was held at First Baptist Church at the invitation of Jay Carnes, the church’s worship leader, a prospective band member and one of Neuwiller’s former Ball High School band students. Seventeen musicians showed up. 

 The first piece they played was “The Rowan Tree.” When they reached the end, there was laughter and, Neuwiller said, a great deal of joy. 

 Someone ventured, “Hey, that wasn’t bad.” Everyone laughed when the director disagreed. The laughter apparently stuck. 

 Ten years later, a Galveston Concert Band rehearsal can bring together people who otherwise might have little reason to cross paths. Neuwiller said a young tenor saxophone player once sat beside a 92-year-old man during rehearsals. “They adored each other,” he said. 

 She would ask him questions about the music, and he would gladly share what he knew. Neuwiller said he suspects the girl sometimes gave the older musician a reason to come to rehearsal on nights when he might otherwise have stayed home. He has since died. 

 Bartula said she saw a similar relationship develop after inviting her granddaughter, then an eighth-grade bassoonist, to play with the group. The girl sat beside Dr. Charles Mouton, vice president and executive dean of the John Sealy School of Medicine and a self-taught bassoonist. 

 

 When he learned she was interested in biomedicine, their conversation moved well beyond the music stand. He offered to arrange a tour for her. 

 Bartula said she was fascinated by the friendship between an eighth grader and an accomplished physician who might never have met under ordinary circumstances. “Music doesn’t recognize age differences,” she said. 

 Tenor saxophone player William Sommer said the same quality is part of what makes the group unusual. “There are few places where intergenerational groups get to just hang out,” he said. “It’s fun without the pressure.” 

 The diversity extends well beyond age. Davison said the ensemble has included former music teachers, engineers, professors, researchers, social workers, medical students, teachers, administrative assistants and professional musicians. 

 Some members live on the island, while others make the drive from League City, Clute, Conroe, Dickinson and the Houston area. 

 Some families bring children or grandchildren. But once rehearsal begins, those distinctions matter less than the music sitting on the stand. 

 An experienced player may sit beside someone still regaining confidence. A musician who has performed steadily for decades can share a stand with someone who only recently opened an instrument case for the first time since youth. 

 And somewhere in the repeated measures, missed entrances and laughter, separate players begin producing a single sound. 

 Davison said that experience proved impossible to duplicate alone. She recently tried learning a string instrument but found solitary practice unsatisfying. 

 “When you’re with others, collectively creating this sound, it’s really exciting,” she said. 

 When she asked longtime band members what kept them involved, Davison said one answer surfaced repeatedly: friendship and camaraderie. 

 Band member Lawrence Thomas once summed it up this way: “It’s not about the music, it’s about the fellowship.” 

 Trumpet player Mallory Shetley said the band is an answer to a question many adults eventually face: How do you make new friends? Even members who leave the ensemble often remain friends, she said. 

 The friendships have accumulated alongside a decade’s worth of performances - some poignant, some joyous and at least one memorable for reasons having little to do with the music. 

 The band’s first concert came just one month after that initial rehearsal. About 25 musicians played a Veterans Day program at The Meridian Retirement Center on 23rd Street, performing patriotic selections and Big Band favorites from World War II. 

 As the band played “In the Mood” and “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy,” older couples got up and danced. “It was a joyous occasion,” Neuwiller said. 

 At Christmas, one of his former Ball High students and a local artist, India, gave him a framed image of the actual audio waveform created by the band’s recording of “In the Mood.” 

 It still hangs above his fireplace. In fact, it means enough to Neuwiller that when a hurricane threatens the island and he has to evacuate, the picture goes with him. 

 Tuba player John Shetley said retirement-community performances are among his favorites because familiar tunes can transport listeners back decades. “The residents are always so appreciative,” Shetley said, often asking the band to “please come back.” 

 Mallory Shetley said one concert at Island ETC became memorable for a very different reason. While walking upstairs toward the backstage area in a dress, she tripped, sending her trumpet and an open water bottle flying toward the audience. 

 A friend helped her up, and she finally made her way to the stage. Silence. Then Neuwiller broke the tension. “Is your horn okay?” he said. 

 This fall’s anniversary performance is likely to be less hazardous, but considerably more sentimental. The band often builds concerts around themes - the music of John Williams, movie scores or even television sitcoms. 

 For the 10th anniversary, members decided the theme should be themselves. They chose their favorite music from the past decade. 

 The result, Neuwiller said, will be “a widely varied and eclectic mix” of pieces that have meant something to members over the years. The setting is also significant. 

 Sacred Heart Catholic Church at 14th Street and Broadway has long been a favorite venue for the group. Neuwiller said Father Jude told the musicians the church was “honored” to welcome them back for the milestone. 

 The anniversary also gives the band a chance to consider how far it has come. From 17 musicians at that first rehearsal, it has grown so much that its rehearsal space at First Baptist Church is becoming increasingly crowded. Neuwiller said it is “a good problem to have.” 

 During the next decade, he said he would be delighted to see the band double in size. There is room in its philosophy, at least, for everyone. 

 Prospective musicians do not have to commit to every Thursday rehearsal. Attendance is not taken. Members come when their schedules permit. 

 Those without an instrument may even be able to borrow one; the band owns more than 60 instruments not currently in use, many purchased through support from the Mary Moody Northen Endowment Fund. 

 And no one has to arrive ready to perform like a professional. Neuwiller said some members joined after having had only a year of beginner band in elementary school. 

 Mallory Shetley said the band’s unofficial motto may offer the best summation of expectations: “Play all the notes you can, and skip the rest,” she said. 

 For anyone sitting at home with an old clarinet in a closet, a trumpet in its case or a saxophone untouched since high school, the band’s anniversary may carry another message entirely. The hardest part may not be remembering the notes. It may be deciding to walk through the door. 

 Neuwiller’s advice is uncomplicated. “Come and try it,” he said. 

 The Galveston Concert Band rehearses most Thursday nights from 7 to 9pm at First Baptist Church of Galveston, 822 23rd St. If you decide to walk in, a chair is waiting. Someone nearby may be 13. Someone else may be 92. 

 And somewhere between the first uncertain note and the last chord of the evening, a musician who thought that part of life was over may discover it was only resting.