CNN

Listen to Chris Patterson and Pride of the South drum section rehearse.

ABOARD THE ELECTION EXPRESS

OXFORD, Mississippi– Tomorrow night’s presidential debate at the University of Mississippi, if it happens, is supposed to be a wonderful and memorable moment for the students here– but let’s keep things in perspective.

There are memorable moments for college students– and then there are memorable moments.

We heard very loud noises from outside the bus where we’re parked on the Ole Miss campus. “Very loud” is an understatement.

We opened the door of the bus– and found the percussion section of the school’s marching band, pounding away on their drums and clanging away on their cymbals, just a few feet from us.

I can assure you that this was not their way of welcoming us to the campus. As a matter of fact, they seemed a little annoyed– politely annoyed, if there is such a thing, but annoyed nonetheless.

“It’s kind of an inconvenience, having to practice out here in this parking lot,” said Chris Patterson, 18, a bass drum player who is a freshman. “We can‘t get in the Band Hall.“

He said that the reason he and his more than 200 fellow members of the University of Mississippi Marching Band, which is formally and famously referred to as the Pride of the South, could not get into their building was that it has been converted, this week, into a workspace for reporters and television producers who are covering the debate.

I asked him if he was impressed that the first debate had been scheduled at Ole Miss, out of all the possible sites in the country.

He said something, which there was no way in the world I could hear. These people were really slamming their instruments by this point.

So we walked closer to the bus, which served as something of a buffer, and he said, referring to the debate: “It’s a good thing.”

But the fact is, when you’re a member of the Pride of the South, accustomed to performing in front of more than 60,000 people in Vaught-Hemingway Stadium every football Saturday, a political debate, no matter how historic, is not what you’re going to most fondly recall about your years on campus.

Rebekah Tettleton, 20, a sophomore cymbals player, answered courteously when I asked her what she thought of the debate being held here:

“It’s fine.”

She said she that if the debate is held as planned, she would watch it on television tomorrow night if she could, but she knew she was scheduled to work a shift in the campus bookstore.

At least I think she said that. I asked her how she could keep her sanity with all this noise around her all the time.

She pointed to the side of her head and said: “Earplugs.”

Julius Booth

Julius Booth, 19, a sophomore bass drum player, was not playing a drum in the parking lot. He was, in fact, not playing anything.

I asked him why.

“My drum is broken,” he said. “I hit it too hard.”

He said that he would have a new one by the time of the next home game. He is an African-American member if the University of Mississippi marching band, something that at one time in this state would have seemed beyond the realm of possibility. He said that the thrilling feeling of marching into that stadium was difficult to adequately describe: “Oh, man, the crowds, the sound from the stands. . .they go crazy. What it does to me when I hear all those people cheering. . . .”

One of the band’s assistant directors– Nelson Rodriguez, 24, a graduate student– said that being a member of the Pride of the South was such a meaningful part of these students’ lives because “before they came to Ole Miss, they had never played in front of so many people before, and after they leave Ole Miss, they will never play in front of so many people again.”

It has thrown their routine off this week, having to move out of the Band Hall and cut down their number of practices, he said. But he, and they, understand the reason: a presidential debate is a very important thing.

As important to these young men and women as being full-fledged members of the Pride of the South?

He smiled.

“What do you think?” he said.