Owen Sellers The Man Behind the Music at Florida State

Owen Sellers The Man Behind the Music at Florida State

Blog Article

Before he ever stepped foot in Tallahassee, Owen Sellers had already packed a lot of life into his twenties. Born in Marysville, Ohio, on November 1, 1906, he came from a family that valued both learning and music. His father, Damon, was a teacher who rose to the position of school superintendent, and his mother, Mary, was a music teacher. That blend of music and education would define Owen’s path.

Growing up in Ohio, Owen was the oldest of four siblings. He finished high school in Troy in 1924 and then began a winding and fascinating college journey. He first enrolled at the University of Cincinnati, then took some courses at Tulane University in New Orleans, where he also worked as a performing musician. By 1926, he was playing in the New Orleans Symphony and working in the orchestra pit at local theaters. He wasn’t just attending college — he was already living as a professional musician, playing in opera orchestras and radio station ensembles.

It’s worth noting that Owen didn’t rush through his formal education. Instead, he took time off to perform, teach, and gain experience. During this time, he also began teaching cello students at the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music, despite not yet having completed his degree. He returned to Cincinnati in the late 1920s, where he continued his studies and played in respected local groups, including the Cincinnati Zoo Opera Orchestra and the house orchestras at radio stations WLW and WCKY.

He married Helen Mullinex in 1929, a fellow musician who played the trumpet and worked as a teacher. The two of them lived with Helen’s mother for a time, and Owen supported the household through his work as a symphony musician. Their life was not glamorous, but it was steady and filled with music.

Things changed in 1931 when Owen was offered a faculty position at Florida State College for Women. At just 25 years old, he accepted the role, packed up, and moved with Helen to Tallahassee. What started as a teaching job turned into a 42-year career that would quietly shape the future of one of the country’s top music schools.

Owen arrived in Tallahassee during the Great Depression. Jobs were scarce, and budgets were tight. The fact that he was hired at all, especially into a school that had just trimmed its faculty, says a great deal about how he was already being perceived. He was brought on to teach cello, orchestral instruments, and music theory. He and Helen both joined the school orchestra, helping to round out the ensemble when student numbers were low.

He wasn’t there long before he began organizing and building. He started with the Theatre Orchestra, which played smaller ensemble pieces and backed stage productions. Then, in 1941, he took charge of something much bigger: the first college band. While earlier groups had formed on an unstructured basis, it was under Owen’s leadership that the group began to take shape more formally. That band eventually became the Marching Chiefs, one of the most well-known college marching bands in the country.

Owen’s role was always more than just a teacher. He began taking on administrative duties not long after arriving. Dean Ella Scoble Opperman saw in him someone she could trust, and by the end of the 1930s, he had served as acting dean during her absence. Around the same time, he officially completed his bachelor’s degree at the University of Cincinnati and subsequently earned a master’s degree at the Eastman School of Music.

When the United States entered World War II, Owen took a leave of absence and joined the Army Reserve. But instead of being sent into battle, he was assigned a different job, a flight instructor. He had been fascinated with aviation and had already earned a pilot’s license. During the war, he trained cadets and logged over 2,000 hours in the air. He was known as a steady, capable instructor, someone with nerves of steel but also kindness in his approach.

After the war, he returned to Florida State (by now the school had transitioned from FSCW to Florida State University), resumed teaching, and picked up right where he left off. His position continued to evolve. He took on more administrative duties and became a trusted leader in developing the school’s graduate programs. By 1955, he was officially named Assistant Dean.

As the music school expanded, Owen played a big part in shaping its identity. He was always involved with graduate students — recruiting, mentoring, advising — and worked to make Florida State one of the first schools in the nation to offer a Doctor of Music degree. His role was often behind the scenes, but his decisions and support helped guide generations of students.

Owen kept up his playing, too. He performed with orchestras in Jacksonville, Pensacola, and Albany. He also toured with the Florida State Jacksonville Symphony on a concert series that included the Kennedy Center and Carnegie Hall. His performances weren’t flashy, but they were steady and musical, and he was respected as a true professional.

He also taught during the summers at the Brevard Music Center in North Carolina. There, he worked with students from all over and connected with other top musicians. Even in retirement, he continued to visit Brevard and represented FSU at College Days.

One of the more meaningful parts of Owen’s life was his connection with the legendary cellist Pablo Casals. In 1950, Owen traveled to France to participate in the first Bach-Casals Festival in Prades. Dean Opperman even personally helped fund the trip. Owen met Casals there and kept in touch with him for decades.

When Casals visited FSU in 1963 to conduct his oratorio El Pessebre, Owen was chosen to escort him on stage for the honorary doctorate ceremony. It was a highlight of Owen’s career and a testament to the deep respect he held among both colleagues and world-class musicians.

By the 1960s, Owen’s name was practically synonymous with graduate education at FSU. He traveled around the U.S. recruiting students, including those from underrepresented backgrounds, and helped dozens obtain the financial and academic support they needed to succeed. He was the kind of person who didn’t just hand out advice — he listened first.

Students remembered him for his approachability. He knew names, asked how people were doing, and took the time to make sure students felt like they belonged. Faculty admired him too — he never craved attention, but he made sure the wheels turned and everyone had what they needed to succeed.

One story captures his style well: when a doctoral student wanted to audition on recorder instead of clarinet — a big ask at the time — it was Owen who said, “That sounds fine to me.” He didn’t need rules for everything. If it made sense, he supported it.

Owen retired in 1973 after serving for 42 years. His retirement letter was gracious and thoughtful, full of appreciation for his colleagues. He remained involved even after leaving his official role, frequently attending concerts, chatting with former students, and continuing to support the school in any way he could.

He passed away in 1983. That same year, the amphitheater between the Kuersteiner and Longmire buildings was named in his honor. It was a perfect tribute. He didn’t need a building named after him to prove his worth, but everyone knew what he meant to the school.

His colleagues remembered him as dependable, kind, and humble. He was the kind of person who might sneak a joke into a meeting or help you through a tough decision. He was also someone who never stopped learning or growing — he took classes well into his fifties and traveled the world to bring back new ideas.

A scholarship in his name continues to support cello students at Florida State. However, his greatest legacy may be the environment he helped create: a place where people could learn, grow, and be treated with respect.