Shop closes, but song plays on
Puzon’s Music in Lansing shutters after 65 years in business
After 65 years, Puzon’s Music would be closing up for the last time at the end of the day, and that Saturday afternoon friends and loved ones were stopping in for one last visit.
“First, my son showed up with my grandkids,” said Marty Puzon, who took over running the shop fromhis father, Zigmund Puzon, and moved the operation from Chicago to Lansing in 1989.
“And then my sisters and brothers-in-law showed up, and I didn’t think too much about that, either, because I’m closing up the shop and both sisters had worked in the shop withmy dad also. But then some of the people who had taught in the shop over they years filtered in and I thought, ‘OK, surprise!’”
They all had a common interest, music, and many had brought their instruments.
“I had some charts (sheet music) sitting around, so I threw out some music stands and put the charts out, andwe played through several of them to the delight of everyone else in the shop at the time, getting an impromptu thing on.”
That pickup concert was a fitting end to a place that fostered lots of music and musicians throughout the region. A hub where band instruments could be rented, purchased and repaired, Puzon’s Music also was a gathering place for music teachers giving private lessons, aswell as an occasional performance.
Once relatively commonplace, music stores catering to players of band instruments have become something of a rarity, andmost music stores that remain cater to what Puzon calls “combo instruments— guitars, drums, amplifiers, keyboards, that kind of stuff.”
The bigger shops that remain, he said, often don’t have their own repair shops— those who bring a tuba or clarinet in to get a sticky valve or rotten pad replaced have to deal with their instruments being shipped off site.
Puzon’s, on the other hand, was a throwback, a small storefront where a craftsman would ply his trade in plain sight.
“Many times, a customer would see me actually working on their instrument, and that had an appeal to them,” Puzon said. “They’d walk their instrument up to our counter, I looked it over, see what needs to be done, and give you an idea of what the cost will be and the turnaround time.”
So it’s no surprise that even during the pandemic, it wasn’t for lack of business that Puzon decided to shut down the store he took over fromhis father. Rather, hewas tired of working six days a week.
“Now that I’m retiring, hopefully I’ll have time to get around to more of the community bands and sit in with them,” he said. While therewere a few moments in between customers and clients here he’d have a moment or two to pick up his clarinet, saxophone or flute and get in some practicing, those didn’t come around often.
“That’s good or bad, depending on how you look at it,” he said.
The closure of his shop is the culmination of a lifetime spent in and around music, which has offered its share of rewarding moments.
Puzon told of getting a call froma stage hand working for jazz musician Grover Washington Jr., whowas playing a gig at the Holiday Star Theatre in Merrillville, Indiana, butwas having trouble with his soprano saxophone.
“His manager brought it over to the workshop I have inmy
basement, and I did some repairs, made some minor adjustments,” he said. “Grover called a short time later and said ‘Wow, it’s playing great— it hasn’t played like this in awhile.’ He comped us some tickets to the show, and in whatwas really a nice gesture, he was introducing a new tune, ‘Can You Stop The Rain,’ and he mentioned my name and said ‘Marty if you’re out there, this one’s for you.’
“At that point, Iwanted to jump out ofmy seat.”
Itwas just the latest in a lifelong string of run-ins with famous musicians.
“Over the years, some of Chicago’s top musicians have been longtime customers, going back tomy father and all of that,” he said. “I got exposed to a lot more history, I guess, concerning music — not just playing of an instrument, but the personalities behind the people making it.”
On a trip to a downtown music store for supplies, he and his father ran into members of the English pop band The Cryin’ Shames, whowere there purchasing new Fender amplifiers. Another time he got to sit in on a rehearsal of the Chicago rock band The Buckinghams.
“These were bands Iwas listening to on the radio,” he said. “Those situations, itwas unique.”
And they’ve continued in the years since. Having taught music lessons for many years before giving up that side of the business to concentrate on instrument repair, he’s heard fromformer students who have gone on to great things in music, especially since word got out hewas closing the shop. One now works transcribing music scores for Disney movies, he said, and another former clarinet student nowhas a doctoral degree in music performance.
“I told her to come back and teach me to play the rightway sometime,” Puzon said.
And he’s been happy to hear fromformer students who moved on to other fields.
“Many of them tell me that studying a musical instrument lent itself to the successes in their fields now,” he said.
Puzon started in the industry early on, taking apart clarinets and waiting on customers in his dad’s store when hewas just 10 years old. After his own son, Marty Jr., hit double digits, he started helping out on instrument repairs at the shop. And Puzon’s grandson, Zayd, 16, and granddaughter, Layla, 12, are learning howto take apart and reassemble woodwinds and brass instruments aswell in their grandfather’s basement workshop.
After he got married as a young man, Puzon decided to pursue a career as an electrician at a northwest Indiana steel mill. Laid off after 9 years, he took over the music store for his retiring father instead.
He called music his “Plan B,” and even though his shop is now closed, he posted a notice on the front door of the Lansing shop letting people knowthey can still get their tubas, saxophones and other instruments fixed up right, though no whe’ll beworking though Melody Mart in Homewood.
And he’ll be helping the fourth generation of Puzons learn their musical instruments inside and out. Literally.