Long after his death, Highland Springs HS band student’s legacy of love and music lives on

If you walk into the band room at Highland Springs High School, you will pass by a large mural of 16-year-old Landon Artis playing the tuba. The image was spray-painted by Landon himself back in November, to the amusement of his band director, Davon Yonkers. 

Now, that particular mural holds a lot more significance.

Just a few weeks after painting the image, Landon was unexpectedly diagnosed with a rare heart disease, spending the next month in the hospital. He died Jan. 30.

But months after his passing, students still come into the band room, walking by all of the other murals, to visit Landon’s wall. Before all of the murals were painted, the band room had all white walls with no splash of color. Now, the room is filled with vibrant designs of drums banging, trumpeters playing, fireworks and music notes, and Landon doing what he loved most – playing his tuba.

For Yonkers, who taught Landon for the past three years, it is a reminder that despite the empty chair in the tuba section, Highland Springs has been forever changed by Landon’s hearty laughter, devotion to music, and exuberance for life.

Yonkers remembers when Landon, a “gentle giant” who may look intimidating at times but was just a “big, goofy kid,” was almost recruited by the high school football team as a freshman. But by the time Landon became a sophomore, he had his heart set on band, even expressing his desire to one day become the band director at Highland Springs High.

“He was just like a sponge. Anything that I taught, or anything that I told the band or used to make the band better, he would just soak it up,” Yonkers said. “I could always see on his face the level of determination to be successful. Every time I had to say something to him, he was standing right there, would look me square in my eyes, ‘Yes, sir. No, sir.’”

Landon always had loved music as a child, said his godmother Liz Garrett, and was constantly singing and dancing when he was younger. But it was when he was a middle-schooler that band became his purpose and the tuba became his chosen instrument.

“That’s when his love and passion for band just kind of soared,” Garrett said. “His personality really was band starting in middle school. And tuba really was his pride and joy, I think because not a lot of people did it and it was kind of a challenge.”

When Landon first joined Highland Springs’ band, most of the other students in his tuba section were seniors, and after they graduated, Landon was automatically pushed into a leadership position where he had to “put up or shut up,” said Yonkers.

But Landon was ready – he went home and watched other tuba sections on the internet, attended other high schools’ band camps and college band camps, and used what he learned to try to make his own band better.

Wherever there was music, there was Landon. He was in marching band, concert band, pep band, and when Landon learned that there were no tuba players in jazz band, he learned how to play the trombone so that he could join.

Once students get to high school, music isn’t just about playing notes on a sheet, Yonkers said – it requires the ability to interpret emotions through what’s written on the page. Landon, he said, was a talented interpreter, even helping students older than him grasp different concepts.

“Landon was that bridge to his peers. He would understand every little story or anecdote that I would come up with,” Yonkers said. “Since his passing, certain students will say, ‘I used to have trouble with this, Mr. Yonkers, but Landon used to tell me a little trick. And ever since then, I ain’t have any more problems with it.’”

Yonkers could tell Landon was serious about his craft, with Landon even composing his own pieces. By the time he was a junior, Landon was at the top of his game. After not making Virginia’s All-District Band the year before, he put in the work and discipline to prepare for his junior year audition. He was determined.

Then, tragedy struck, putting Landon in the hospital.

“I was sure he was gonna make it,” Yonkers said. “He was doing everything right. And then he had gotten sick and went to the hospital. And just by coincidence, I was a tuba judge for district band. And when I was listening to the other students and what they’d prepared, I was sitting there shaking my head. I knew Landon would have been able to make that audition.”

After his death, Landon received a posthumous honorary membership in the Norfolk State University’s Spartan Legion Marching Band, which he had dreamed of joining once he graduated high school. His family was able to raise more than $13,000 in less than two weeks for his funeral service and hopes to also launch a band scholarship in his honor and create a “heart walk” to raise awareness for heart disease.

Even outside of band, and even for the small, mundane things, Landon brought the same energy and exuberance. He worked alongside his mother at Chick-Fil-A on Parham Road, and often was the first smiling face customers would see when they walked in the store, said his godmother Garrett.

“We found pictures of him with the headset on, taking orders. He just loved it. He was definitely a people person, very much so extroverted,” she said. “He didn’t require much. It was just the little things that made him happy. Just spending time and doing little things.”

Yonkers watched Landon grow from a “typical silly ninth-grader” into a mature, promising young musician. But some of that goofiness always stayed with him.

On a band trip to SeaWorld in Orlando, Florida, Yonkers remembers Landon being mesmerized by a small pool of stingrays, even sticking his phone into the water so he could capture a video.

“Landon was so fascinated by the stingrays, he just wanted to take a video of them swimming. So he submerged his cellphone in the water, then realized that his phone wasn’t waterproof,” Yonkers said. “So he got a pretty good video, but his phone was real broken for the rest of the trip. But hey, he got the video.”

Landon lived his life with few worries, Garrett said, but he did have one big concern: being a good friend. He genuinely worried about whether he hurt someone’s feelings. Other students, especially those in the band, looked up to him not just because of his musical talent, but because he took care of those around him.

Garrett hopes that people will learn from Landon to love all parts of life, even the little things, and put your all into what you care about.

“I just want people to remember Landon as someone who lived life. He lived his life, honestly, as though it was his last,” she said “Not a lot of things worried Landon. He didn’t let a lot of things stress him. He followed his passion and put his all into his passion.”

Liana Hardy is the Citizen’s Report for America Corps member and education reporter. Her position is dependent upon reader support; make a tax-deductible contribution to the Citizen through RFA here.