My special place to remember is my high school band hall. I spent a significant portion of my high school years in that place. Our band hall housed approximately 300 budding musicians during marching season, and so it was spacious. There were practice rooms, a uniform room, and a room with shelving that housed our instruments during the day. Above that room was the library. No one was allowed up there except librarians, of which I was one. Of course, others went up there from time-to-time for various reasons, none of those being to gather music, I am sure. There was a couch, a table for sorting, and dozens of file cabinets full of sheet music. That library smelled like old, musty books from the paper that the sheet music was printed on. The