If rock n’ roll can save your soul then I’m on my way to heaven.
The deep thump of a bass drum rolls through Los Rios Rock School in San Juan Capistrano. The piercing notes from an electric guitar punctuate the air with such speed that it sounds like some fast-fingered guitar god is playing.
It’s a student.
But it’s not until another student sings, 7-year-old Miles Salamirad, that I know I’ve arrived at the pearly gates. Arms down to his sides as if he’s pushing himself up, Miles stands on his tippy toes to reach a high note.
Miles touches the note and beams a Bruce Springsteen grin. His music teacher, Tyler Marolf, throws a fist bump.
Miles has autism. Three years ago, he was non-verbal.
Yes, there is such a thing as the power of rock.
• • •
Before Miles rocks the house, Marolf and I talk about what led him to start teaching music in his early-30s and open the 3,000-square-foot school in February.
Surrounded by amps, guitars and two drum sets, Marolf tells a tale of rock ‘n’ roll redemption – and how he narrowly escaped the corporate life.
Born in Iowa, Marolf grew up in Southern California the son of a roller derby king and queen. His parents didn’t push him into their passion. Instead, they encouraged him to explore. Starting at age 7, Marolf learned to play piano.
But in middle school, Marolf heard a different sound that matched the rhythm in his heart – the beat of a bass guitar.
A bit of a wild child, Marolf searched to have his own voice heard. His journey took him to Guadalajara at age 15, to join several bands and start singing at age 16, to jam with friends while going to Capo High.
But eventually, Marolf succumbed to the sound of money. He worked in Wells Fargo’s real estate division and later joined Countrywide, moving to Denver.
The income was good. The inner reward wasn’t.
Around the time the real estate business tanked, Marolf considered the passion that remains his wife’s and once was his – making music. He looked at himself, a 50-pound heavier version than the athlete he is today.
In their cottage in San Juan’s historical district, Marolf returned to his roots, singing and playing. He formed a band, the In Between. Neighborhood kids heard the music and a calling.
Soon, a small room in his home turned into something like Jack Black’s movie, “School of Rock.” Eventually, Marolf started charging the regulars. Soon he had so many students, he realized he had a business.
But he also realized something deeper. Marolf had a business that could touch kids, that could transform and empower teens in ways that Marolf had missed growing up.
“I was a teacher,” Marolf says, laughing, “before I found out I was a teacher.”
With a photo of his month-old son, Raylan, nearby, Marolf is quick to point out that rock school’s not only about rock.
With scheduled rehearsals and concerts, rock ‘n’ roll is also about accountability and responsibility.
Hey Axl Rose, got that?
• • •
When Marolf opened his home school, he had 30 students. In the last five months since he moved into his new digs, that number has doubled. The school also has several other teachers.
Teaching children with autism came about almost accidentally. About a year ago, a woman asked if he’d take a student with autism. Marolf thought, why not?
With Marolf on drums, instructor Spencer Askin on guitar and Miles on electric piano, Miles leans into the mike and rips into The Beatles’ “It’s a Hard Days Night.”
To help keep things on track, Askin shouts, “Five, six, seven, eight.”
On cue, Miles chimes in, “When I get home to you, I find the things that you do will make me feel all right.”
It’s a sweet moment in an afternoon of sweet moments. But for Miles’ mother, Jody Salamirad, it’s a miracle moment.
Miles was 18 months old when he was diagnosed with autism. Salamirad explains she and her husband decided to have their only child tested because he was missing milestones and not making eye contact.
Her voice catches when she allows, “I cried for a year.”
But then she told herself, “Get over it.” She needed to move on for herself, for her husband, for Miles.
But raising a child with special needs is especially tough. Now, she cries once every few months.
When she isn’t working at her job as chief digital strategist for Ascend Sports & Entertainment, Salamirad is an autism crusader. In the past several years, she and her husband, attorney Ali Salamirad, have helped raise $100,000 for the nonprofit, Autism Speaks.
As we talk, Miles voice carries through double soundproof doors.
“When I’m home, everything seems to be right.”
• • •
Salamirad shares that it’s taken a great deal of work to get Miles to this point. Along with school support, he sees additional therapists. I mention it’s clear he loves Los Rios.
Salamirad explains that Dad noticed his son loved riding in cars. So he started taking Miles for drives and they’d listen to music. Soon, Miles was bopping in his seat and singing along.
Anything that helps Miles with verbal skills and allows him to interact with others is huge. Of school concerts, Mom offers, “It’s amazing he can come here and sing in front of 200 people.”
Marolf grins as Miles launches into the next song, a tune Marolf wrote called “Music Time.” Miles nails it.
Tonight, June 27, Miles as well as a series of bands will take the stage at the House of Blues in Anaheim. It’s the latest “Rock the House” concert, a fundraiser for Ronald McDonald Charities.
When Miles steps into the spotlight, it will be a special moment. Yet in some ways, the moment is merely a step forward in a journey. After the concert, the House of Blues will be empty, the spotlight a memory. But the beat goes on.
For people like Marolf and Miles, rock ‘n’ roll never forgets.
