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Publication Date: Wednesday, January 23, 2002

The White House band

  By Marion Softky

Almanac Staff Writer

"Star Spangled Banner." "Stars and Stripes Forever." "Hail to the Chief." The very names can stir the blood. In performance by the U.S. Marine Band, they tap our deepest roots of patriotism and identity as Americans.

Players in the nation's oldest musical institution have a unique view of historic events that have shaped the country, and now the world. Over 200 years ago, in 1801, the band gave the first musical performance in the still unfinished White House during the administration of John Adams.

Named "The President's Own" by Thomas Jefferson, at whose inaugural it played, the band has played at important events ever since. In 1809, it opened the first inaugural ball for James and Dolley Madison; it accompanied Lincoln to Gettysburg; it introduced the great marches of its leader John Philip Sousa; it played Scott Joplin's "Maple Leaf Rag" for Alice Roosevelt; it performed for all four inaugurations of Franklin Roosevelt; it led President Kennedy's funeral procession.

Will Rusinak of Portola Valley brings a more recent view from the podium of the U.S. Marine Band. The violinist, who now lives at The Sequoias retirement community, joined the band in 1955. He performed with the band for 22 years under six presidents, from Eisenhower to Carter.

The Marine Band, which is really an orchestra, functions as the President's private band, and is constantly on call for performances at the White House, Mr. Rusinak says. The band, or groups from it, perform for functions ranging from teas with a quartet, to state dinners where the band introduces the president and his wife with four ruffles and flourishes, followed by "Hail to the Chief."

"I wish I had a dollar for every time I've played 'Hail to the Chief,'" Mr. Rusinak says.

Seated in the lounge at The Sequoias, Mr. Rusinak reminisces about his life as a musician. Blunt and outspoken, he tells no-nonsense yarns about the famous people and events that have touched him.

Some of his favorite memories stem from the Kennedy administration. He recalls formal events, as President and Mrs. Kennedy descended the White House staircase, he in white tie and tails, she in an elegant ball gown, while the band in the lobby played "Hail to the Chief." And at the top of the stairs, John-John and Caroline, dressed in their jammies and ready for bed, watched their glamorous parents. "It was a nice touch," he says.

From Camelot to Texas

"The best were the Kennedys," Mr. Rusinak still says.

The young musician was impressed by the brilliant president, elegant first lady, and their great taste in music. Thanks largely to social secretary Tish Baldridge, he heard violinist Isaac Stern, conductor/composer Leonard Bernstein, and cellist Pablo Casals at the White House.

President Kennedy was also a brilliant speaker, says Mr. Rusinak, who recalls being impressed by his after-dinner speeches at state dinners. "On his feet to speak, this guy was incredible," he says. "He had a flair for using the right phrase for the occasion."

Mr. Rusinak played with the band at 17 Gridiron dinners _ the annual events when the press spoofs Washington and its denizens. He remembers President Kennedy's performance with awe. "Kennedy would write notes during dinner, and then wow them!"

Mrs. Kennedy, by contrast, was generally aloof, he says, except for one time.

During a farewell tea for Tish Baldridge, little John-John escaped from his nanny and hid out under the tea table covered by a long, lace tablecloth. "Then he lunged for the violin." Mr. Rusinak chuckles. "Finally, Mrs. Kennedy noticed. It was one of the few times she spoke to us."

Then came the assassination of President Kennedy. "The shock was incredible," Mr. Rusinak says.

In the shadow of the tragedy, the Johnson administration started out quietly. But Mr. Rusinak will never forget his first White House performance, at a tea in the upstairs living quarters.

He and a quartet from the band were quietly playing Mozart, when Bess Abel, the Johnsons' social secretary, came up to them demanding, "What the hell are you playing?"

"I said we were playing Mozart, and she said, 'Well, knock it off!'" _ and demanded something like "The Yellow Rose of Texas."

Mr. Rusinak comments acidly, "For the rest of the Johnson administration, Texas (music) came in, in its full nothingness."

For love of violins

Born in Minneapolis "110 years ago," Will Rusinak fell in love with violins by the time he was 3. "It was ingrained," he says.

The boy got a violin, took lessons, played in an orchestra during high school, was concertmaster at a summer music camp, got a scholarship for the Eastman School of Music, and graduated four years later. "After that was the war," he says.

Young Mr. Rusinak was drafted, trained as a machine gunner, and shipped to Hawaii on the first troop ship after Pearl Harbor. Just as he and his 27th Division were under tight security before shipping out to the South Pacific, his life changed.

Private Rusinak was practicing his violin, when there was a knock on the door. It was the famous Shakespearean actor Maurice Evans. He invited Private Rusinak to join a dance band he was forming on Waikiki to entertain service men on leave.

"Do I want to live?" he responded.

A few days later, Private Rusinak was transferred to Waikiki. He spent the rest of the war playing for servicemen on leave for rest and recuperation. Among the stars he played with were Bob Hope and Jack Benny, on tour for the USO.

"That man (Evans) saved my life," Mr. Rusinak says. "My outfit was slaughtered in Saipan."

Almost 30 years later, Mr. Rusinak had a chance to thank his savior at the White House. When Maurice Evans turned up for a luncheon given by President Johnson, Mr. Rusinak greeted him. "It was a great reunion," he says. "My one sorrow _ I couldn't get a photographer."

Also on Hawaii, romance entered Mr. Rusinak's life. One of his jobs was to accompany a chaplain who preached at various churches around the islands, and play a violin solo after the sermon. It was at Hilo that he met and rehearsed with a pretty organist.

Virginia Manley had become fluent in French while attending school in Lausanne, Switzerland. She had studied organ in Leipzig, attending concerts in Bach's church. She still remembers "those Gestapo guys parading around and looking menacing."

The romance blossomed when he was performing at Waikiki, and she took a job teaching school in Honolulu. Their wedding was notable, because he had to sneak out of the base on a garbage truck for a 9 a.m. ceremony. As Mr. Rusinak explains, he was quarantined for Dengue fever, their marriage license was about to expire, and they didn't have $3 for a new one. "The captain suggested it [sneaking out]," Mr. Rusinak says. "As a result, I became AWOL and got married _ a double whammy."

After the war, the young family returned to Minneapolis. Mr. Rusinak earned a master's degree in music at the University of Minnesota. To make ends meet, he played in a dance band at the Curtis Hotel. It was there that the Marine band stayed during a tour in the Midwest. "That's where it all started," he says.

Enter the Marines

When the leader of the Marine Band invited the violinist in the hotel dance band to join the Marines, "I almost threw him off the stage," laughs Mr. Rusinak.

After some second thoughts and arguments with his family _ "They thought I was out of my mind" _ Mr. Rusinak auditioned for the band. He joined it as a staff sergeant in 1955, when Eisenhower was president.

The band is really an orchestra. "Your main job is playing at the White House," Mr. Rusinak explains. "A band would blow the place apart."

Every one of its members plays an instrument and is selected by highly competitive auditions. "We had nothing to do with the Marine Corps," he adds. "We never took basic training."

During his 22 years with the band, Mr. Rusinak was on stage for many moments of history. The band played at every inauguration of a president; it played for the weddings of Lynda Bird Johnson and Tricia Nixon. When President Eisenhower invited Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev to Camp David, Mr. Rusinak was part of the ensemble from the band that played for the heads of state.

Later, Mr. Rusinak and band members accompanied President Nixon to Belgrade to entertain President Tito of Yugoslavia. "Tito came up and shook hands," Mr. Rusinak recalls. "He had a beautiful wife."

While the band may have seemed part of the furniture at state occasions, some of the first ladies appreciated them. "One of the nicest people was Pat Nixon. She never failed to come up and thank us," Mr. Rusinak says.

In 1972, Mr. Rusinak was promoted to assistant director of the band, with the rank of first lieutenant. Every third week, Mr. Rusinak would conduct the summer band concert before the weekly Evening Parade at the historic Marine Barracks in Washington. And every Christmas the band played for the annual White House children's Christmas party. "If you didn't have any children of your own, you borrowed some," says Mrs. Rusinak, who attended these events with their two children, Dana and Marya.

By 1977, stress from the demanding job was getting to Mr. Rusinak. The band was always on call to play at the White House _ sometimes four or more times a week.

"It's an all-encompassing job. You're at the whim of the president and social secretary," he says. "We could never invite people for dinner Saturday night."

And there could be no mistakes. "You have no idea what it means to perform in the White House," he continues. "There is a four-hour evening, and everything has to go just right."

When foreign dignitaries came, for example, the band had to play something familiar. "And you'd better not get the wrong national anthem," Mr. Rusinak comments.

That never happened in Mr. Rusinak's day, but he remembers minor glitches. Like the time the usher _ who controls the timing of White House events with military precision _ gave the wrong signal. "The band started playing when speeches were still going on in the dining room."

After years of this, Mr. Rusinak says, "I was taking Valium. I decided, the hell with it; I'll retire."

After President Carter's first state dinner, the Rusinaks retired to Santa Cruz, where Mrs. Rusinak's mother still lived. Mr. Rusinak kept playing, and founded the Monterey String Quartet. About five years ago, they moved to The Sequoias.

Their children are keeping up the Rusinaks' musical traditions. Son Dana is principal cellist with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, where his wife is a cellist. Marya teaches music in Cincinnati elementary schools. The Rusinaks have one granddaughter.

At The Sequoias, Mr. Rusinak still practices the violin every day. He no longer gives concerts, but enjoys playing with a small group from the San Jose Symphony.

"I like to play in string quartets _ Mozart, Haydn and Beethoven," he says. "It's nice to play with young people. We just have fun for ourselves."