Two things I’ve learned: History does repeat itself, and it doesn’t dilly dally doing it.

You understand. Both of those little lessons came barging around the curve last Tuesday, March 6. All of the family went to see my now 13-year-old grandson Connor-man play in his band concert, right in the middle of the “brass” section, where his Uncle Mal used to play. That fact alone carried me back to some historical markers, but add in that March 6 is Malachi’s birthday, then we have a stark reminder, for sure.

In 1992, our family moved from Houston to central Texas to take over the basketball program for 3A Robinson High. Five years later, Mr. Steven Bowen had walked away with two state championships. They are two of my fondest accomplishments.

Oh, no, it wasn’t me. I didn’t come close to state in basketball. It was the other Steven, my son Steven Malachi. He was a proud member of the Robinson High School “Pride of the Blue” marching band — as royal blue as the mighty Grangers — and twice they came away with gold. It might have been four times had they not had a rule where the different divisions alternate years.

Almost half of the 550 students in that little country school marched every Friday night in that band. When the huge blue mob turned toward where you sitting in the stands, it was a lot like standing on the other side of the Red Sea and seeing Moses and a million Israelites marching right at you.

The most special night of all was my son’s final performance, and the night he and his band won their second state championship. Unforgettable.

For their grand finale, they went back to an old song from the 60s. Right at the end of the selection, the stadium went dead quiet for a few seconds.

Then this Rocket soloist stepped out by herself with a trumpet and put the finishing touches on the song that made chills run all the way down to your toes.

You’ll understand when you hear the words:

“The answer my friend is blowing in the wind. The answer is blowing in the wind.”

And if the sound of the trumpet didn’t give the judges chills down to their own toes, the way the band hummed along as she played must have.

Half the town of Robinson, Texas stood up and cheered as the band marched ever so confidently off the field, your toes still tingling. You knew then you had just witnessed history.