Mother’s Tavern Owner Paul Brown Has Sidelined His Swing Band Ways to Help People
BY GLEN STARKEY
Six months ago Paul Brown's life seemed pretty much perfect. He had a successful business, Mother's Tavern, and his jump blues and swing band, Sugar Daddy Swing Kings, had an album out and was picking up well-paying festival and corporate gigs.
Still, something was missing in Brown's life: service. And like a lot of people he looked to fill the void through volunteer work.
Now Brown's simple foray into lending a helping hand has led the singer and club owner to abandon his former life to join the National Guard, making a six-year commitment just so he can work with high-school dropouts at the Grizzly Challenge Academy run by the Guard at Camp San Luis Obispo (see related story).
"Having a business and being in a band is rewarding," said Brown, a strapping towhead with a fresh buzzcut, "but at the end of the day it all feels selfish. I made a difference for me, but not for anyone else. After working with these kids all day I feel like I've made a difference in someone else's life."
Brown began volunteering at the program in a civilian role last year when they were short-handed, but he knew that the job he wanted, a "drill instructor" for the cadets, was reserved for National Guardsmen.
Well, he's in the service now.
Brown has just finished nine weeks of basic training and is returning to Missouri to complete his AIT (Advanced Individual Training) at Military Police School.
When finished, he'll return to Camp San Luis and join the Cadre, a group of "drill sergeants" who lead platoons of 30 to 40 young men (there's also a women's platoon) through a five-and-a-half-month program designed to give them the skills needed to lead productive lives.
"Even though this is a militaristic program, the goal is not to train them to be good soldiers, but productive members of society," explained Brown.
Lots of people volunteer, but few do the kind of about-face Brown has agreed to. At 31 years old, basic training is no picnic, even for someone as physically fit as Brown, who's already dropped 30 pounds during his training.
More importantly, the program doesn't always make sense to a mature adult.
"It's tough knowing a better way to handle a situation and having to shut up," said Brown. "Having my own business and being involved in clubs and organizations, I'm used to problem solving, but if you give suggestions [to those in charge] they push you even harder in the other direction."
There's also a social stigma to joining the military.
"During my father's era joining the service was considered the right thing to do, the honorable thing," said Brown, the son of a World War II vet. "But nowadays most people think it's the wrong thing to do. And a lot of the people who are joining are doing it for the wrong reasons: to get away from their parents.
"It's not like it is in the movies, which glamorize it and make it seem tougher and funner than it really is. It's not meant to be fun or entertaining. The key word is ‘service.’ Right now there are soldiers who are not with their families. They're in Saudi Arabia and Bosnia and Kosovo. They might be stationed in the middle of the woods somewhere, just two or three people and their Humvee, their whole mission to act as a radio relay station–that's their Christmas."
Brown has discovered the meaning of unglamorous service, but despite the hardships, he has no regrets about his decision to commit six years of his life to the National Guard, especially since it means he can work with the Grizzly cadets.
"We're instilling discipline," said Brown. "They're learning that the actions of a few affect the whole. If one guy screws up, all suffer."
The cadets live in groups of 30 in Spartan barracks filled with bunk beds and lockers. They're trained like a military unit to march and exercise, although much of their time is spent in classes trying to finish high school. Even their free time is supervised.
"You love these kids, but how you express that is by holding them to certain standards," said Brown. "The hard part is knowing when to step out of that role and talk to them one on one."
Brown had one cadet who refused to shower and wasn't able to properly shave. Complaints about him were coming from fellow cadets. At first Brown tried to cajole him into conforming.
"I tried to make fun of him about his shaving. I said, ‘Didn't anyone ever teach you to shave, cadet?’ He said no. Suddenly I found myself backpedaling. I took him aside and said, ‘Grab your gear; I'm going to show you how to shave.’ The kid had never met his father or had a male role model. It's easy to forget the background some of these kids come from."
The Grizzly Challenge Academy is run by Maj. Bruce Irwin, a no-nonsense commander who demands a lot from both his Cadre of Guardsmen and his youthful charges.
"This is about selfless service," explained Irwin. "We're here to help kids. The biggest threat to the American people comes from domestic problems: teen pregnancy, drug use, crime. This program is meant to achieve educational excellence, to help raise the grade level at which cadets are operating. The average rise in grade level is two years."
"The Cadre [or supervising Guardsmen] are like parents to these kids," he explained. "Someone like Cpl. Brown is in a role-model position. The cadets learn about self-discipline from him. They learn about controlling their tempers, about showing up in formation and on time. It's tough love, and he provides that tough, firm, and fair environment. For some of these kids it's the first time they've experienced love in their lives. Some of them are homeless or come from broken or foster homes. We're helping America's youth–our future.
"[Brown] is determined and committed," continued Irwin. "He's one of the best guys we have out here. He wants to work with these kids. He leads a platoon of 30 to 40 young men. You have to lead by example. He has to run faster and do more push-ups. He treats everyone with respect, and that's why he's one of our best guys."
Paul Brown, the saint? No, he's quick to admit his reason for working with the Grizzly cadets is that it's as much for him as it is for them.
"Anyone who claims to do volunteer work for altruistic reasons is full of crap," barked Brown. "You do it for yourself because it makes you feel better.
"I love seeing that light bulb come on in a kid's head. They're fighting it and fighting it and fighting it, then ding! They get what it all means: personal responsibility; accountability for their actions; honor. The sense of power I feel is overwhelming, but it's not just about power. It's about knowing that you had an effect on someone's life and that they look up to you. It can be intoxicating. And after dealing with their problems I realize how fortunate I am."
Brown also doesn't like the idea of being singled out. All the National Guardsman of the Grizzly Cadre deserve equal credit.
"All the people who work out here, regardless of where they come from, do it because they love the kids," said Brown. "And they really put in tons of effort to make sure they do a good job. All of them, in one form or another, have made sacrifices to devote themselves to providing this service and are doing this for the community." Æ
Glen Starkey is admittedly too soft to be a soldier.