The Shaffe - The Arrival Of Jack Shaffer At Central High

John Bush was raised in Martinsburg and graduated from Central High in 1961. He spent most of his adult life in the Pacific Northwest. He has many memories as a boy in the 1950s that give some insight to the people and culture of Martinsburg in the 1950s. John likes to tell stories and over the years he has repeated the stories of his youth many times. His belief is that those years in Martinsburg influenced him all of his life. Some of the stories are historical in nature, some are colorful, and some are personal. He wishes that you enjoy them.

Though generally not to his face, many students at the new Central High School in 1960–1961 referred to Jack Shaffer as "The Shaffe" or just "Shaffe." I remember my first encounter with Mr. Shaffer very well, perhaps because my mother repeated the details many times over the years. It was late August in the summer of 1960, and Mom and I were sitting at our kitchen table. A bright yellow Jeepster pulled in front of our home on Spring Street in Martinsburg. You could see a man putting out a cigarette before getting out of the unusual vehicle. As he headed toward our front door, his manner of dress stood out. He had somewhat long hair for those days and was wearing a striped sports jacket with light colored slacks, white buck shoes and a bow tie. My mom said, "Who is that? He must be selling circus tickets or something. I'll send him packing!" She answered the door and after a short conversation came back into the kitchen and said to me, "This guy is the new band director at Central and wants to talk to you."

Mom had not invited him in, so I talked to Mr. Shaffer out on the front porch. Besides his dress he seemed a little strange to me. He looked at me through his dark framed glasses and made eye contact, but he was a bit stooped and talked in a humble manner. He asked why I had not signed up for the band. I explained that although I had been in band since seventh grade, I was not very talented, could not march in step and was not interested in being in the band for the upcoming year. He explained that there were not enough trumpet players and my participation was needed and would be appreciated. I said I would sign up. He thanked me and left.

Mom said she could not believe the school had hired a guy like that. It was not a nice comment, but I agreed because I had never seen anyone in Martinsburg dressed like that either, let alone a teacher. I had been questioned earlier by Dad about why I was not signing up but Mom did not seem pleased that I was signing up now. I told her he said I was needed, so why not.

At school, Mr. Shaffer blended in well with the boys. He joked and hung out with them a lot, yet he was in charge. Shaffe kept me busy and at ease. It was not uncommon for him to say, "Bush, make yourself useful" and he'd give me a small task to do. He even laughed at some of my antics as long as they were not at an inappropriate time. Sometimes, just after we were seated, he would look at me and say, "Bush, is it okay to start practice now?" There would be a chuckle or two from everyone and then we got quiet and settled down to business.

Shaffe was not the only new thing that made the band exciting. The music room was new and shiny with rising semi-circular benches. I do not know what the band room was like in Roaring Spring, but at Bean Hill the music room was in the attic - a flat floor with metal fold up chairs.

Poor Mr. Fisher had to stand on a small portable deck and had difficulty seeing everyone in the crowded room. New uniforms began to arrive, most of the students were pleased, and the buzz about the band continued. Another new thing was that the tubas were white, plastic and much lighter in weight.

There was a rumor that Shaffe had stopped a non-band member in the hallway and recruited him to be our drum major. I do not remember seeing him practice marching with us early on, but when he joined us it was now clear this band was going to be different from our bands in the past. Mr. Shaffer explained that from now on the commands would come from the newcomer, who blew his whistle, raised his baton and high stepped it across the parking lot. Shaffe walked along beside the band quietly giving instructions about spacing, pace and posture. I don't know if everyone liked this new approach, or even cared, but we followed the lead, and with each practice we kept improving.

I do not remember much about the local parades that we participated in that year, although I do remember one in Martinsburg. It was traditional to march across the Square while playing. Generally, the band approached from South Market Street, where there is a steep, short rise as you approach the crosswalk. The steep part begins next to what then was the Gerald Turner law office and home on the east side. As we approached the intersection, the whistle sounded out followed by a loud drum roll, and the band played as we crossed the Square. Out of the side of my eyes, I saw Mrs. Turner standing on the landing to the law office, excited, and waving and clapping. We made quite an impression in our new uniforms, organized marching, and being led by a tall, strutting drum major in a white uniform wearing a tall hat with a white plume. Shaffe walked humbly along the right sideline, as he often did, attempting to make small adjustments without drawing anyone's attention. I assume at least some in the audience were able to see that this new school's band was certainly exciting and that there were going to be good times ahead.

In the spring of 1961, the band marched in the annual Cherry Blossom parade in Winchester, Virginia, and returned with first prize - quite a feat for an unknown band. After that the community stepped up its support of the band for years, as they won many awards. Shaffe not only had arrived, but he soon became a local icon.