Scholarship gives the gift of music

In the midst of the Great Depression, Frank Stanton held no illusion that college was in the cards for him. But after a visit from a college band recruiter, Frank began marching to the beat of a different drum.

Although he was never able to finish college due to financial reasons, his love of music never left him.

Now, three months after Stanton's death, Jay County High School senior Michael Daniels will continue his education in music with a memorial scholarship collected by Frank's family and friends.

Stanton was born in Portland on Sept. 27, 1916, but later moved with his family to Streator, Ill., where he spent the majority of his childhood.

While in Illinois, he developed a love for the trumpet and enjoyed playing in his local school's marching band, as well as the church orchestra.

At age 16, Frank and his family moved back to Portland, where he would finish his last year of high school.

Unfortunately for Frank, a Portland High School marching band was nonexistent at the time, though the school had a well-established orchestra.

But Frank wasn't deterred. He set out to construct a band himself.

No records exist of an official PHS band until 1936, but according to Frank's daughters, Ginny Emerson, Libby Stanton and Susie Munz, Frank had a hand in getting one started.

In fact, in the "Last Will and Testament" of the 1934 Portland senior class, this quote from Frank was recorded in the school yearbook: "I, Frank Stanton, leave the 'tooting of my trumpet' to Bobby Detamore."

This bit of information hints of an amateur band that might not yet have been recognized as an official school band, as it was still in its infancy.

Fast-forward to 2010 and Jay County High School, which has developed a stellar musical reputation thanks to its success in the Indiana State Fair Marching Band Contest.

Current band director Kelly Smeltzer, asked to recommend a scholarship recipient, chose Daniels.

Smeltzer said that Daniels was the top candidate for the $1,000 scholarship because he showed promise and potential, and was serious about furthering his education in music. Smeltzer went on to say that Daniels is a very bright, respectful and deserving student; "an all-around great young man."

Daniels plays trumpet in the Jay County band and guitar in the jazz band at school. He plans to attend Ball State University and major in music technology. After college graduation, he hopes to be a producer or engineer for a music studio, although his dream job would be to play as a professional musician in a band.

After finishing high school in the heart of the Great Depression, when Stanton had already dismissed any aspirations of beginning a college career, a recruiter from Louisiana State University came into town and Frank's talent and skill earned him a college scholarship. Much to his delight, full tuition was paid for Frank to go to LSU and play in its marching band.

Frank enjoyed two full years of college at LSU before his college fund ran dry. After that, Frank came back to Portland to help his family.

After college, Frank went on to get a job in the newspaper business where he met his future wife, the then Esther Honn.

Esther was an aspiring writer, says Libby, and when Frank would tell the story of how they became better acquainted, he would admit that he would make frequent, but unnecessary trips to her office to deliver stamps just so he could see her.

Esther must have wanted to see him too, because in 1939 Esther and Frank married.

"My dad loved my mother with all his heart," reflects Libby.

Libby remembers when she would bring her trumpet home to practice, and Frank would sit down and give her some pointers, but no matter how much she practiced her father could always outplay her.

"He once told me," Libby recalls, "that playing the trumpet really wasn't his favorite thing to do, it's just that he was very good at it."

Not only was Frank a gifted musician but an amazing man as well. He was also a wonderful father, his children agree.

"He knew how the world worked," Libby says. "... He knew how to motivate people. He knew how to convince kids to make the right choice while making them think it was their choice all along.

"He could get you to work when you wanted to slide by," she continues. "He would check your work and teach you what the standards were if you missed the mark. Once you hit the mark he would make you feel so good about it that you never wanted to do less again."

Frank would fight for wrongs and injustice, Libby adds. He stood up for people and the things he believed in. Even so, he still knew how to have fun.

He liked to tell the story of the time when he and a friend rolled cannon balls into the Portland pool. Real cannon balls. The pool had to be drained in order to pull them out.

"That story always made him chuckle, " Libby recalls.

Besides that wet day at the pool, his eldest daughter, Susie, remembers Frank as having a "dry sense of humor that made everyone around him laugh."

Frank loved being with people. Libby remembers sitting with him at times in his later years, simply holding hands.

"Just sitting next to him could lower my blood pressure 20 points, I'm sure."

His youngest daughter Ginny couldn't agree more.

"He brought out the best in all of us," she said.

Frank died on March 12. The last time he'd picked up the trumpet was when he was 92, but excessive coughing prevented him from playing anymore after that.

Rather than buying flowers or offering other traditional condolences, Frank's daughters asked friends and family for monetary donations that would go toward a music scholarship in honor of their father.

Elizabeth Starbuck of Portland, a good friend of Frank's who attended high school with him during their senior year, says she remembers spending lots of time with him for school. Frank and Elizabeth were both officers of their senior class; Frank was the VP, and Elizabeth, the treasurer.

Elizabeth stayed in contact with Frank over the years, and when she heard that he'd died, she sent a check for the scholarship to his daughters.

Susie, Libby and Ginny know their father would have the loved the very idea of a music scholarship. Their only regret is not coming up with the idea before he died.

"That is perfect," Libby expects he would say.[[In-content Ad]]