TWENTY-FIVE YEARS after founding the corps, Don Warren was no longer “one of the guys.” And by 1974, many “old guard” buddies were gone, or experiencing equal bouts of distraction. Lenny Piekarski, Monk Wawrzyniak and Jim Jones were first to leave. Following the Circus Show’s sour finale, Larry McCormick put his energies into his instrument and music publishing business; in 1975, he founded a rival organization, Bands of America, a corps-style competitive circuit for high school marching bands. Sal Ferrera took an increasingly hands-off approach to the program, delegating brass tutelage to junior instructors and devoting time to his contracting business. Warren found life on the road wearying, not as enticing to a man of 45 as a boy of 19. “I had a family, I had a job,” he said. “I just don’t think I had the time to totally concentrate on the Cavaliers.”
Before the 1974 season, Warren ceded directorship to alum Dan Heeres. Heeres was a local kid who played baritone in the 1960s. He was Cavalier of the Year his final year, 1968, and came back into the fold as an administrative assistant in 1972. “He was a scream,” Warren said. “He was fulla hell like the rest of ‘em, but also very funny. He could keep everybody laughing and joining in and so on, and he was quick-thinking. That was one of the reasons I asked him to be director—he could relate to people.”
Heeres had been a member of the famed Andrews Sisters, the group of daredevil horn soloists. And he cut an imposing figure during his marching summers with a German army helmet inherited from brother Tim, double-breasted Marine trench coat, goggles and an aluminum baseball bat, which Heeres wielded to hilarious effect around rival corps. “They figured this guy’s crazy,” he said. “I was just dragging it around and it was all aluminum—no rubber handle back then—and it made a lot of noise when I’d drop it on the street. ‘Here he comes!’”