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Culpeper Rock Academy: The End
In my last blog, I mentioned that I had little to say about the closing of the Culpeper Rock Academy, but I lied. You see, now that I have loaded that last amplifier and pulled-down the sign that hung over West Culpeper Street for the past 16 months, I feel I should let everyone who's interested hear my side of the story. Opposing views may post here if they feel anything is incorrect.
I'd wanted to open a music school for several years. I'd become increasingly frustrated seeing kids listening to Rap or Hip-Hop and completely ignoring rock music. I was also appalled that the community had nothing for kids to do unless they were athletes. Even the skate park closed at dusk.
I thought about getting my feet wet by holding an all-ages rock show in Culpeper back in 2004, but was shocked to find that there were no teenage bands available in town. The local Common Ground hosted shows, but the kids complained that the bands were all faith-based bands, so many of the kids only hung around outside at The Depot.
The rock scene here was officially dead.
After watching the documentary film, Rock School, which featured Paul Green's Philly-based "School of Rock," I decided to lay out a plan to open a rock school in Culpeper. I would teach guitar, bass, keyboards, drums and coach vocals, and provide practice space for the kids to form their own bands. Kids would also design their band logos, write songs and learn how to market their bands. Cool, huh?
My girlfriend and I decided to use the cash we'd saved for a new house to purchase sound equipment. We then borrowed another $10,000 from a family member. I began purchasing pro-quality amplifiers, microphones, PA sound systems, monitors, drum sets and lots of music books and classic rock posters for our walls. I did this with no defined location for the school, because I had a very positive attitude about it all and knew that a property would become available. Before we even had a place for the school, we had a storage garage packed to the ceiling with rock gear!
One person who was extremely supportive and helpful to us was Donna Ryan of Culpeper Wood Preservers. She is their property manager and she found us the perfect spot on Montanus Drive. It was situated in a building that would never bother our neighbors and she offered a reasonable lease. She had this very enthusiastic demeanor and seemed thrilled that Culpeper was going to have a school for young rockers.
But I had one more property to look at: 128 West Culpeper Street. The spot was much smaller, smelled like old motor oil and had nothing to offer but its downtown location. It was also a few hundred bucks more per-month.
The landlord (whose name I won't mention) and I met on Sunday, September 17th 2006 and did a sound check. We had a kid play a very loud bass amp in each of the rooms and went to the 2nd floor to determine if the sound was too loud. The landlord smiled and assured me that the sound wasn't going to be an issue. (The bass was played through a 75-watt Peavey bass amp with a 15" Black Widow speaker -- loud!). He told me that we, and these are his exact words, "would be a perfect fit with gymnastics kids above us and ballet kids to our left." He thought it was great that "the property would become kid central." I felt good about his attitude and signed a 3-year lease.
For the next two months, I worked myself to exhaustion. I worked as a self-employed painter from 8am until noon, then it was off to the new rock school! I'd often forgo dinner and work through until midnight; hanging drywall, cleaning out piles of old wood and construction debris, building benches, painting all the floors and setting-up the band rooms with sound deadener. We "officially" opened on October 2nd, although the renovations continued until mid-November.
I should have listened to Donna Ryan because unfortunately, the complaints started immediately.
The first problem was the kids..my kids. The existing businesses were not used to seeing kids with spiked hair, pierced skin, neon-dyed hair and all-black attire. They had no way of knowing that these kids were just regular kids - the only difference was that they were into music. They dressed like rockers and enjoyed being different. We had metal, punk, alternative and even long-haired classic rock kids - none of them were bad people. They were just different kids.
The next problem I had to address was smoking. Yep, some of those kids smoked cigarettes and the neighbors didn't like that. Neither did I. We posted signs and mandated a non-smoking policy on November 1, 2006. Up until that time, we had signs on the inside of the rock academy - not outside. But we saw the problem and fixed it. Kids who were caught smoking were barred for 30 days. (2nd offense; 60 days)
A few days later we were told, by the landlord, that the neighbors no longer wanted to see my kids. Yes, seriously...they wanted my kids kept out of sight. So, on sunny, warm days when other kids were outside with a soccer ball or a skateboard, my kids were not allowed to gather in the parking lot -- even if they were waiting for their parents to arrive.
From our main room at Suite #102, one could not see the street. This meant that, instead of teaching kids or coaching bands, i was supposed to monitor the parking lot in a never-ending vigil, in order to be certain that kids weren't hanging out there or to attempt to recognize their parents' cars. If my kids ventured into the parking area, the landlord was called.
Bands were encouraged to sign the Rock Acadmy's bathroom "Wall of Fame" once they'd performed there. Profanity, racist or offensive symbols were not allowed.
Noise Issues
Despite the landlord's smiling reassurance that the sound was not going to be an issue, the complaints began in mid-October. At first, the landlord was called every time a band attempted to practice. Then we would receive calls directly from the Woods Gymnastics owner above us. We attempted to work together, but it seemed that any noise was too loud. The landord called in late October to inform us that we could no longer play any music in the main room. The main room consumed approximately 70% of our useable, leased area.
We began to have only quiet lessons (no drums ever) and required kids to do their school homework assignments in the main room until their scheduled practice time arrived. But once the complaints started -- when the kids were in the concrete-ceilinged practice rooms - I knew we had a problem.
It was ordered - by the landlord- that we were not allowed to play ANY music at the Rock Academy as long as Woods Gymnastics was holding classes.
I asked him how I was supposed to make a living if kids couldn't play music. He told me it "wasn't his problem."
We started holding bands practice after hours, but sometimes the Woods Gymnatsics people would stay until 9PM, which meant the bands might only be able to practice from 9 until 9:30 pm.
My parents began to question why, as a "rock school" we were not allowed to play music. They couldn't justify paying $25 per week if their kids couldn't practice there. We began losing students as early as December, when several parents decided to withhold their tuition and pull their kids out. Who could blame them?
In January of 2007, we didn't have enough remaining students to pay the rent. We dropped tuition by 20% and pushed for new students. Only one kid signed up.
Suddenly, only three months after my dream was realized, it was all evaporating before my eyes.
I tried hanging more sound barriers, insulating walls, boxing ducts inside drywall, buying more carpet remnants and building a plexiglass drum surround. Nothing worked - the complaints seemed to multiply.
Soon it became a game; if kids were hanging in the parking lot, the landlord was called -- sometimes the Culpeper Police were called if the landlord couldn't be reached. If the kids were playing music, the landlord was called. If there was any trash blowing around the lot, the landlord was called and we'd have to clean it up. (95% of the time, debris was blown-in from across the street!)
On one Saturday afternoon, I was at Guitar Center in Fredericksburg when the landlord called to tell me that "a gang of rough-looking kids were in the parking lot." They were "scaring the Woods people and needed to be brought inside immediately or told to leave."
Uhh...gee...my school wasn't even open.
I drove all the way back to Culpeper - only to find that I didn't even know the kids who were there. They had merely "heard there was a rock academy" and wanted to check it out. The landlord told me he was "sick and tired of this ****" and didn't seem to care that the kids were not members of my school.
I soon began noticing that there were excessive amounts of cigarette butts on the pavement in front of my entry. We began observing the parents of the kids attending Woods Gymnastics and In Motion Ballet. These adults were walking over to our door and extinguishing their cigs in front of it. This was done in order to implicate the Rock Academy kids of breaking my very-strict no smoking policy. In one instance, a parent "forgot" to drop her spent cigarette at the rock school door. We watched as she kicked her cigarette along until it reached our front door. When I brought this up with the landlord and the Woods people it was ignored -- apparently by design.
But this is all nit-pickin'...
What happened next was the biggest travesty of all; a kid who was not a student at the Rock Academy stopped in one night to listen to a band practice. The band was waiting for the Woods people to vacate for the evening, but the kid became bored and began rapping through the PA speakers. His choice of words were not exactly family-friendly.
I had left earlier with a 101-degree fever and was already in pajamas when the call arrived. I went to the school - still in PJs - and ordered everyone out. But the following day, December 17th...exactly three months from the day we signed the lease, the landlord told me to vacate the building. At this point, I had spent no less than $4,000 on renovating this glorified basement into a rock school.
Word got out. More parents pulled their kids. The newspapers became interested and it became a public issue. Running at 50% of the students I'd had in November, I was forced to auction my prized 1972 Pontiac GTO on eBay. I had covetted this car for 25 years and truly adored everything about it. I rolled the $10,000 I received from the sale of my car into the Rock Academy. Some of that also went to pay household bills -- the rock school was losing students and losing money. We had no income at all.
Woods Gymnastics proudly announced that they'd outgrown their West Culpeper Street location and was moving to a new facilty in Elkwood. When the time came to break their lease, the choice was easy; blame the Culpeper Rock Academy.
I didn't matter that we'd switched practices to late evenings, stopped all music in the main room and could only utilize the tiny one-car garage we called The Cave as a practice room for the younger bands. It didn't matter that kids were being severely reprimanded for smoking, or even hugging or kissing outside.
The landlord knew that all of this was costing us our students, yet he began taking even more cash by enforcing a $15 per-day late charge. It was obvious that we were being slowly choked to death... again, by design.
I later discovered that Woods and In Motion Ballet were never told that a rock school was moving in below them. They were told I was a "music teacher" and would be giving lessons. The In Motion people thought I'd be teaching string instruments, like violin and cello! Can you imagine how those poor folks felt when they arrived to see the big "Culpeper Rock Academy" banner above our door? Think of their dismay when they heard those beating drums and pulsating bass vibrations. Can you blame them for wanting to run their businesses in peace?
These people were just as much a victim as I was.
This is why I have never had anything negative to say about them. In fact, I have found the In Motion owners to be very nice, caring people who felt the hurt I was feeling. We are now good friends and I love them both.
On the last day of the year, December 31, 2007, I scooped-up the last little pile of dirt and gum wrappers from the floor of the now empty Culpeper Rock Academy. It was empty and cold, but something was calling out to me.
Something that didn't want me to say goodbye and lock the door behind me. Something that made me feel like those barren walls were still a part of me and my future.
Yes, something was calling me, pleading... saying "please don't leave?"
I think it was my dream.
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