“You’ve got to pay more attention to current events – today is HUGE!”

It was August 8, 1974, and my friend Jenny was beside herself with glee. Although just 16, she followed politics closely and was overjoyed that President Richard Nixon was about to resign in disgrace, following the Watergate Scandal.

Despite Jenny’s urging, I simply wasn’t into politics – or current events for that matter. The “news bug” would bite me in college as I took journalism classes, but for now I was blissfully ignorant.

My family had moved from Connecticut to Indiana the previous year, and although we occasionally telephoned each other, Jenny and I eventually drifted apart. (Pre-email, staying in touch meant writing letters and calling twice a month after 11pm at night, when rates were more reasonable. Different times, those.)

Little did I realize that one day I’d get to experience Watergate – and political conflict – up close.

It was the fall of 1976 and my freshman year at Indiana University was underway. After a series of auditions, I was accepted into the Singing Hoosiers performance ensemble.

One day, we were asked if anyone wanted to join an IU School of Music choral group which would premiere a new composition at the Kennedy Center. The piece was commissioned as part of the nation’s Bicentennial celebration.

After checking with my professors, it was clear that there was a trip to Washington D.C. in my near future.

During local rehearsals for “The Days of God,” we met the composer, Chilean native Juan Orrego-Salas. As we got about a week away from heading to Washington, he had a serious talk with the ensemble.

Orrego-Salas explained in a solemn tone that his homeland was in terrible turmoil. The democratically-elected socialist government had been overthrown a few years prior in a U.S.-backed coup d’etat. A military junta headed by General Augusto Pinochet developed into a cruel dictatorship. (It was not until 1990 that another democratic presidential election would be held.)

Because of this, the composer continued, and because the U.S. presidential election was just one day before our performance with the Kennedy Center’s National Symphony Orchestra, there might be trouble.

Trouble? What kind of trouble?

Orrego-Salas told us that the most he expected was an audience walkout during the performance. He assured us that no violence was foreseen. He wanted us to not be distracted by any shouting or noise during the world premiere.

Okay, so this was getting more interesting by the minute.

On the long bus ride eastward, I felt a tickle in the back of my throat. By the time we arrived in D.C., I could hardly talk. Bronchitis. I just wanted to get to the hotel.

Our hotel? A Howard Johnson Motor Lodge.

The Howard Johnson Motor Lodge. If you’ve read up on Watergate, you know a Howard Johnson’s was located directly across from the Watergate office buildings. The hotel’s Room 723 was notorious as the lookout perch for the “burglars” to watch their cohorts break into the Watergate’s Democratic National Committee headquarters across the street.

Our room was exactly one floor below.

It had been several years, but it was still a bit creepy, to be – you know – in the HoJo where it happened.

Each morning, coughing raspily, I dragged myself to rehearsals at the Kennedy Center. We’d cut through the Watergate complex to get there, and breathe in the heavenly scents eminating from the Watergate Bakery. After a pause, and a promise to eventually reward ourselves, we’d hustle on to the rehearsal hall.

One afternoon – I swear – I got into an elevator with Paul Sorvino. (I just looked it up and, indeed, he was performing at The Kennedy Center in The Baker’s Wife at that time.)

As my self-diagnosed bronchitis worsened, I mouthed the Genesis-inspired libretto, hoping for a miracle by performance time. I didn’t join the groups of healthy singers heading out for night after night on the town, but took my meds and went to bed.

Guess what? We’re invited to a victory party for Gerald Ford!

That was an exciting invitation a day before the election. Of course, history took another course and “some peanut farmer” won.

I bought a postcard to mark the occasion.

I got my voice back for the premiere and it was a thrilling success. If memory serves, there was a small walkout, but it could have just been someone with a weak bladder.

The next morning was a “free day,” so I got up early and did a walking tour of the capital city. (Everyone else was apparently sleeping off the previous night’s celebrations.)

One moment stands out so clearly in my memory. Not a map reader and nearly hopeless with directions, I nonetheless unfolded my walking tour map and tried to find some recognizable landmarks.

After feeling terribly lost, and then studying the map an embarrassingly long time, I said out loud, “If I’m not mistaken, when I turn around I’ll see …”

And sure enough. There it was:

I managed not to burst into song, but God Bless America sure would have felt appropriate.

Many decades have passed and, with the help of Facebook, I’ve reconnected with Jenny. She’s a professor at San Jose State University. She and her wife, Peggy, are avid birdwatchers. It’s been wonderful to catch up with Jenny and even get some assistance in identifying the owls who visit my dad on occasion.

And ol’ Jen still keeps up on politics, I see.

In one definition of the word, a watergate holds back the floodwaters. The year 2020 seems to need one, desperately. Please, wherever you live and whatever your beliefs, be sure to vote in November. No matter which direction the waters flow, our nation’s future depends on us all fulfilling our duty to cast a ballot.

Would you like to receive an email notice when there’s a new Too Much Brudders post? Sign up here: