It was fall of 1990, and it had been an interesting summer. The Band had negotiated an official Performance Agreement with the Athletic Department, which included the tenet that the primary audience for Pep Band halftime and pregame shows was considered to be the student body of the University (as opposed to the alumni or random fans). As this implied that we could do more sex/alcohol jokes and phallic formations, it was a valuable, and rare, concession.
So, loaded with the Performance Agreement, and a few other things, the Band took the field for the first home game vs. Clemson. Our football team beat Clemson for the 1st and only time in 35 years (launching them on an unbeaten streak that would lead to a national #1 ranking), and the Pep Band put on what members felt was a hell of a couple of shows.
Monday morning, however, an editorial appeared in the Cavalier Daily, penned by columnist Chaz Repak (a conservative, short-haired, self-righteous, ROTC-type who lived on the Lawn at the time). This article panned the weekend's shows, referring to the Pep Band as "agressively unfunny." Unfortunately for Repak, the Pep Band was to convene that night for it's regular Monday rehearsal, and boy were we pissed. Then-Director David Black took the floor ("please, no really") and delivered a rousing address. He also put forth a bold, whimsical and - at the time - totally innovative proposal. This proposal was very much in the character of the Pep Band, but little did anyone at the time know that it would launch a nation-wide rash of campus paper thefts that would become the biggest college free speech debate since the Vietnam War.
It was not yet 5:30 AM on Tuesday when the Cavalier Daily delivery van reached it's central drop-off point at University Hall; unfortunately, it was late, and the Pep Band contingent was already there waiting for it. The delivery guy, with a suspicious glance or two, began to unload the large bales of newspapers into a pile. Pep Band members proceeded to load the bales from the pile into the back of Dave Black's large station wagon, the "Zamboni." Emboldened, the Pep Band members inquired if they could go ahead and load the bales directly from the van into the Zamboni. They were not obliged, but eventually they did get out with the goods. They made tracks for a small room in the center of Mr. Jefferson's Academical Village known as 9 West Lawn.
Repak awoke to find his world barricaded with 14,000 copies of the Tuesday edition of the Cavalier Daily. Unfortunately, so did then-editor of the CD Diane DeBerry, who also lived on the Lawn. And boy was she pissed. Also unfortunately, she found out who was responsible: because of the late delivery, Repak had stumbled onto the last of the Relocation. Essentially, we were busted.
DeBerry, all but literally foaming at the mouth, was on the phone in minutes to the University Judiciary Committee, Dean Sybil Todd, AD-Pep Band Liaison Kim Record, and others. The situation rapidly escalated. Repak hung a sign near his room which read, "This is what happens if you criticize the Pep Band." (We liked that.) Before noon, though, Pep Band members were back out there returning the CDs to their original locations. And issuing an apology - to the Cavalier Daily, and to all of that day's advertisers. But we had made, everyone agreed, our point.
"We felt that the Cavalier Daily's comments were unwarranted and unconstructive, and we thought that the best way to express this... was to relocate all of the CDs." - Dave Black - as quoted in the University Journal.
In the final, and most wretched, perversion of justice, the Pep Band was actually brought up on Judish charges. This despite the fact that someone had actually thought beforehand to call a Judish person and ask if relocating the papers would violate University standards of conduct - we were told that it would not. In the end, we were powerless to fight the trumped up charges, as the Pep Band was already on Double Secret Probation stemming from some years-old alcohol infractions, and the more recent instances of slight rowdiness at our annual Dinner Banquet in the Dome Room of the Rotunda.
We were convicted of Interfering with a University-Sponsored Event, and of Obstructing a Public Walkway. Which we thought was pretty funny, until they told us our punishment - we had to clean half of Scott Stadium after 2 consecutive home football games. Which completely sucked.