On March 20, Willow Glen resident Galen Lemmon, spokesperson for the San Jose Symphony Players Association, publicly announced that the group had been successful in rescuing the music library from the midst of the symphony's bankruptcy proceedings, which began in fall 2002.

The announcement took place at a salon recital and cocktail party at the home of former San Jose Symphony board member Carl Cookson and his wife, Sharron. The purpose of the event was to inform San Jose Symphony supporters about the newly formed Symphony San Jose Silicon Valley, which operates in conjunction with the city's ballet under the umbrella organization San Jose Silicon Valley Performances.

"Everyone was elated," Lemmon says of the reaction to his news. "They were just thrilled."

The announcement meant the end of a long struggle for Lemmon and the 88 other musicians from the now-defunct symphony to secure the library's future in San Jose.

Founded in 1879, the San Jose Symphony had experienced a series of financial ups and downs throughout its history, but 1995 was the beginning of the final downward slide that ultimately resulted in its closure. On Oct. 18, 2001, with a deficit of $2.5 million, the symphony laid off musicians and staff and closed its doors.

What followed were several months of discussions about whether to file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy—which would enable the symphony to make a proposal to pay off its debts while continuing performances—or file Chapter 7 bankruptcy, which would pardon the organization's debts but force its permanent closure.

Upon learning that the symphony was preparing to file for Chapter 7 in September 2002, its 89 musicians asked for a one-month extension to allow them to raise the funds necessary to save the library. The library was valued between $110,000 and $125,000, and if the musicians were unable to buy it, the library would be sold to the highest bidder to pay off part of the symphony's debt.

A series of delays in the bankruptcy filing and bidding process allowed the musicians more time than they had anticipated, a handful of months that proved crucial.

"There were a few of us, me included, that felt we could raise the money," says Lemmon, a percussionist. "When we went to the community there was an overwhelming response, much more than we thought we'd get."

"There was a sense that the community understood not only the value of the music but also the musicians," adds Janet Witharm, who coordinated the fundraising campaign.

An article in the San Jose Mercury News about the music library campaign attracted some notice, but the majority of the donations resulted from the musicians' own contacts, including colleagues at other symphonies throughout the country.

"There's no one like a colleague to understand the importance of music," says Witharm, a cellist who was in the orchestra for more than 20 years.

The scores, some of which are out of print or of limited availability, contain personal notations about fingerings and bowings that musicians consider invaluable.

Beyond the scores' importance to the musicians, the members of the association say they felt driven to save the library for the greater arts community as well as the symphony's supporters.

"The community has given so much to the San Jose Symphony over the years, and part of those funds have gone toward developing the library," says Lemmon. "It would have been a shame to lose it. Yes, in a sense, people are paying for it twice, but that's better than having lost it altogether."

Now that the association has final court approval of their bid, the musicians have begun the task of moving countless boxes of sheet music from the old symphony offices to their new home at Ballet San Jose Silicon Valley, which is hosting the library free of charge. With the fundraising push now over, an association committee is just beginning to form plans for the library's administration, which will include lending out scores to community music groups as well as utilizing the library for association members' own performances.

"When a symphony that's been around for 123 years goes down, it's a terrible thing," says Lemmon. "But the library has been saved—something good has come out of it. And by us being the stewards of this library, it will be here forever."