On the night of Earl Dunn’s last football game, it was cold, and his figure, once described as imposing, was folded in half and seated in a wheelchair.
But he came, like he always did, with Betsy and Joe Scagnoli. He had always preached school loyalty to the many students he led as Ball State’s former Director of Bands.
On Sunday, 73 days after the final game and 33 after Dunn's death, four of Dunn's friends and colleagues shared their stories at an afternoon memorial service in Sursa Performance Hall.
Tim Lautzenheiser, Dunn's friend, speculated that the building would not exist without Dunn. When he first took over, Dunn ran the band department out of a house.
BUILDING A BAND
Dunn’s dreams of directing a college band began at the University of Northern Iowa where he earned his academic and music degrees while helping to direct the school’s marching and concert band.
By the time Dunn accepted the position of Ball State's Director of Bands in 1957, he was 33-years-old and already married to Liz Dunn, a teacher.
Dunn was “old school”; authoritative and demanding with a booming voice, said Robert Kvam, the Dean of the College of Fine Arts.
Dunn’s style surprised Joe Scagnoli, who joined Ball State’s band program as a student just two years after Dunn.
The daily, two-hour long rehearsals Scagnoli attended were strictly regimented. Dunn had no time to waste on misheard directions or excessive mistakes.
"He would push you to the edge, but he'd always know when to let up," said Lautzenheiser during Dunn's memorial service eulogy. "He'd get you right on the edge and then he'd grab you and pull you right back."
Under Dunn, the band’s membership grew from 66 to 190, and Scagnoli described a Ball State staff impressed by a new level of musical quality.
“I don’t ever remember ever going to any place away from Ball State where we gave a public performance where we ever embarrassed ourselves,” Scagnoli said.
It wasn't something Dunn would let happen.
One defining performance happened at an away game at Indiana State University.
The marching band performed at half time. Their bold and jazzy arrangement received a standing ovation from the rival crowd.
Afterwards, an Indiana State athletic official requested a post-game performance of the same song.
“And we did,” Scagnoli said. “We went on to repeat it.”
“A NATIONAL REPUTATION”
Dunn and his band’s influence expanded beyond Indiana’s borders.
In 1965, the marching band, now called “the Pride of Mid-America” performed at President Lyndon B. Johnson’s inaugural parade.
“Now there’s a band,” said Walter Cronkite during the parade’s telecast.
Dunn departed from Ball State’s band program for the first time in 1969 and accepted a position at the University of Alabama.
During and after this time, Dunn held prestigious positions at the National Band Association and the Indiana Music Association. He also judged band competitions across the country.
“He had a national reputation,” Scagnoli said.
THE LAST GAME
After receiving his undergraduate degree, Scagnoli worked as Dunn’s graduate assistant at Ball State.
Their teacher-student relationship transitioned to one of colleagues.
Scagnoli discovered a different side of Dunn: someone who enjoyed practical jokes and treated his champion Bullmastiffs like children.
But Scagnoli still used the title, “Mr. Dunn.” It didn’t feel right to say anything else.
And when Dunn returned to Ball State in 1972 and Scagnoli took over the job of Ball State’s Director of Bands in 1984, their relationship shifted again. To golf outings and trips to Florida.
Liz Dunn died in 2009, and Scagnoli and his wife Betsy would visit Dunn twice a week: once at the beginning and again at the end.
When the Scagnolis weren’t traveling, Dunn would ask to be taken to basketball and football games.
And on Nov. 5, 2014, Dunn shook the hand of current Director of Bands Thomas Cavena and watched his band play for the last time.