Vet Fulfills Dreams for Pearl Harbor Dead


Since 08-10-03

http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/news/breaking_news/6476910.htm 

MATT SEDENSKY
Associated Press
7 August 2003

PEARL HARBOR, Hawaii - In less than a minute, Dale Sprosty lived his dream of paying tribute to those killed at Pearl Harbor the only way he knew how.

On Tuesday, the 72-year-old Mount Pleasant, Mich., man stood at the USS Arizona Memorial, lifted his silver Selmer trumpet to his lips, and played the mournful 24 notes called taps.

When he was done, Sprosty lowered his instrument, walked away, and cried.

Sprosty has been playing taps since 1948, and full-time for the last 10 years. In all, he says he's played taps more than 5,000 times.

"This is all I do," Sprosty said. "It's not an obsession. I guess duty would be a better word."

He first played taps as a member of the 1st Army Headquarters Band in New York. He served in that unit for four years, until 1952, playing for Presidents Eisenhower and Truman, at parades down Broadway and, most often, at reburials of World War II soldiers.

After leaving the service, Sprosty continued to play at veterans' funerals, usually two or three times a month.

When he retired from the family business in 1993, he found himself looking for something meaningful to fill his time. He decided to make taps his full-time job.

He phoned every Michigan funeral director and all the local service clubs and let them know he was available to play taps at veterans' funerals. The calls trickled in.

Sprosty's devotion to his cause - during a shortage of musicians for military funerals - caught the eye of The Washington Post and The Associated Press, who covered his performance at Arlington National Cemetery in October 1996. After the articles appeared, requests came from all over for him to play not only at burials, but baseball games, parades, flag-raisings and all matter of other civic affairs.

But for years, he has wanted to travel to Hawaii, to honor the 2,390 people killed in the Dec. 7, 1941, attack on Pearl Harbor.

On Tuesday, Sprosty showed a nervous enthusiasm as the Arizona memorial draw closer to his boat.

He breathed deeply. He kept his eyes closed. His chin quivered. His face turned red.

In 50 seconds, he was done.

"It just does the same thing to you every time," said Delia Garcia, a California restaurant owner, who listened to Sprosty play. "It's just something reverent, something so mystical. It definitely comes from the soul."

For all the times Sprosty plays the sorrowful tune, it is not something he takes pleasure in.

"I don't enjoy playing taps. I do it as something that needs to be done and needs to be done correctly," he said. "It doesn't give me pleasure. It doesn't make me smile. It's strictly an honor thing."