Who’s the Bagpiper in UNC’s Cemetery?

January 2023 • Arts & Culture Journalism @ City University, London

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon in Chapel Hill. Students and families are taking advantage of the warm weather, dragging their backpacks or small children down Franklin Street. The handful of folks whose journeys lead them past the University Presbyterian Church (UPC), which, despite its welcoming edifice, does not attract as many visitors as its neighbor, Linda’s Bar & Grill, are stopped by the echo of a distinct and beautiful cry. 

Daniel Caudill, a second-year at UNC, is practicing for his upcoming bagpipes concert. Today, he’s playing from the ground floor of UPC, in a room with chairs still set up from that morning’s Sunday School. He plays with his back to a vast window while passersby excitedly peek inside to realize that they were not, in fact, just imagining the sound of bagpipes. 

Caudill is an award-winning bagpiper and active competitor in the second-highest level of the Eastern United States Pipe Band Association (EUSPBA). He speaks with a light Southern drawl – he was born and raised in Scotland County in southeast North Carolina – and wears a St. Andrews University shirt, where his father teaches. 

Scotland County is North Carolina’s smallest county by area, but it’s home to one of the largest populations of Highland Scots outside of Scotland. Caudill spoke passionately and confidently about the history of his ancestors, Highland Scots who were forced to immigrate to the Americas during a period of social unrest in the 1700s and 1800s. Though a sort of Scottish identity certainly remains intact (members of the Scotland High School marching band wear kilts), music traditions and language (Scottish Gaelic) are mostly gone. 

“It's almost like you feel like you have a duty or an obligation to at least keep some sort of strong sense of identity within the community,” Caudill said. “My family's really into it, I'm really into it.”

Caudill’s father taught him to play the bagpipes and is still his teacher today. His father is a respected piper, but Caudill was reluctant to learn and didn’t decide to start playing until 2016. 

“I guess it was an embarrassed of your parents type of thing, but then I really got into it.” Caudill said. “I grew up around it. 24/7. Like, when I was a few months old, I was already at Grandfather Mountain Highland Games while he was competing.”

Joey Fala, UPC’s Director of Music, invited Caudill to practice in the church and play during worship services. Caudill is an active member of the Presbyterian Campus Ministry (PCM), which is an extension of UPC. 

“It's inspiring to see father and son work together on something they're so passionate about,” Fala said, “especially a tradition that is a big part of their heritage.”

Caudill played during the closing of UPC’s Easter service last Spring, which Fala said introduced a sort of “bagpipe fever” among the congregation: “It's not every day that an accomplished bagpipe player of his caliber shows up in your church.”

Bagpipes are undoubtedly an infamous instrument outside of Scotland and Scotland County. Caudill is used to playing an instrument that’s high on the list of instruments people don’t like (What's the difference between a bagpipe and an onion? No one cries when you chop up a bagpipe). 

“It's nice to be a representative. But sometimes, like, no matter whether you're a good piper or not, you know, some people like the instrument and some people hate it,” Caudill said. “I like to think that most times people don't like it because they're hearing somebody that's like, really honking around.”

“Bagpipe fever” has spread beyond the UPC community to students at UNC. One of Caudill’s favorite practice spots – which he frequented especially before he found a practice space at UPC – is the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery. On sunny days, students living in North campus residence halls and anyone who happens to be walking through the cemetery get unexpected concerts. 

Madalyn McLain, a third-year at UNC, knows Caudill from their shared participation in PCM. But she knew him first as the piper in the cemetery. She and her roommate would often hear the faint sound of bagpipes from their room in Connor residence hall.

“We thought it was so fun that we would walk through the cemetery just to go see him,” she said. “It’s loud, so you can definitely hear.”  

She learned quickly that Daniel the cemetery bagpiper was the same Daniel in PCM, who also enjoys tennis and talking to members of UPC’s congregation about Scottish history. Before she learned he’d chosen the cemetery for lack of another place to practice (the bagpipes are so loud that his practicing in the music rooms meant that other music students couldn’t hear themselves), part of the mystery was why he’d chosen the cemetery.

“I thought he was honoring the dead,” she said. “Is this a seance or something?”

Bagpipe music doesn’t feel entirely out of place in a cemetery. Especially considering their rareness in the U.S., they have a mystifying and intriguing sound that makes you want to stop and listen. Caudill is, in fact, used to playing tunes that honor the dead. 

“I play for funerals and [weddings] all the time at home… And sometimes it's sad because you're playing for these people who have strong Scottish names that you don't have anymore.” Caudill said. For Caudill, playing the bagpipes at funerals in his community stirs mixed feelings of sadness that the community is dwindling in size and pride in carrying on a tradition. 

“It matters a lot to people,” Caudill said. “So as long as I can be there to supply that, I’m gonna do it. And pass it on as much as I can.”