Thirty-six pioneers under Arthur C. Forsblad.
The first Fresno Normal School band forms with thirty-six charter members — the kickoff note of a century-long tradition.
One hundred years of the Bulldog Marching Band, scored across one field — kickoff to fine, in five movements.
The first Fresno Normal School band forms with thirty-six charter members — the kickoff note of a century-long tradition.
The school becomes Fresno State College and adopts the fight song generations of Bulldogs will rise to their feet for.
A new stadium, new practice fields, a new home for the program — and a new chapter for the bulldogs who march on it.
California State University, Fresno is born. The band's stationery changes; the sound, undiminished, marches on.
For the first time the program calls itself the Bulldog Marching Band. The name will outlast every uniform that follows it.
A twenty-by-ten block of marchers stretches end zone to end zone in pre-game. No Bulldog season before or since has fielded more.
1992 · THE SILENT YEAR No band. No halftime show. For one season, the field was silent.
From the ground up. New director, new charts, new freshmen who will become the program's next thirty years of leadership.
One year after the silence, the BMB takes the country's most-watched parade. The comeback is no longer local.
An anonymous donor endows the program in perpetuity. The band's future is no longer year-to-year.
After the loss of freshman tuba Nathan Ray, his spot is left open in every drill for the season. The Rookie of the Year award is created in his name.
A new conference, a new title. The Bulldogs claim the first MWC Championship and the band scores every minute of it.
The College Band Directors National Association lifts the BMB to the national stage. Ninety-one years of work, recognized.
For the second time in the band's history, the field falls quiet. The drums wait one season more.
The Bulldogs march down Colorado Boulevard in January, then across Dublin in March. From the foothills to the Liffey, the sound carries.
Alumni from every era come home. One stadium, one hundred years of memory, one chord held by every musician who ever wore the plume.