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CHICAGO -- Leo Harris is in constant motion, passing out sheets of music, fetching instruments for musicians, shuffling through stacks of paper. With an energy that belies his 82 years, he flits around the gymnasium of the Grant Memorial African Methodist Episcopal Church in a three-piece suit but a bit disheveled, with shoes untied, one jacket pocket in, the other out. Even so, he's always listening.

After all, this -- the South Side Family Chamber Orchestra -- is his baby. He founded the group two decades ago to bring classical music to black children, who he believes need a respite from the constant bombardment of rap, hip-hop and other popular music.

On a shoestring budget, Harris nurtures talent, young and old. Can't find your music? Harris is there to help. Someone stole your cello? Here, use mine, Harris told a young player whose instrument had been snatched from his car. Whatever the problem, Harris smiles and keeps moving.

"I spend my time pulling things together," he said after a recent evening practice session. "I call this my avocation. I have always loved classical music. I just love it."

So much so that he's spent a lifetime passing it on to youngsters. Barrington White, who plays on his high school basketball team, bobs his head to rap and admires NBA players such as Ben Wallace of the Detroit Pistons, can name as many classical composers as he can rappers. The 14-year-old has played the cello half his life.

"I saw it on TV and asked my mom if I could play," Barrington said as he bounced a basketball and sipped on a soda before orchestra practice. "I've been playing ever since."

Though some of his peers think his fascination with the likes of Mozart and Beethoven is a little weird, Barrington said classical music "can tell stories. It's the same thing I like about rap."

That's music to Harris's ears. He was only 6 when classical music drew him in.

The year was 1926, and Harris had just moved from Kansas to Chicago to live with an aunt and uncle. A song that played on the radio caused him to run excitedly through the rooming house rounding up neighbors to listen. Those who gathered around his uncle's radio weren't impressed and walked away.

But Harris stayed and listened to what he later learned was Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik."

He was hooked. He took up the violin, and later the cello, using the money he earned bagging groceries to pay for lessons that cost $1 per session. At the time, the thought of a black man making a living at classical music was unimaginable, he believed, so after high school he became an air-conditioning and heating engineer.

Classical music, however, remained his passion. He taught it to his four children, and two decades ago he formed the orchestra. Jerome Fifer, 67, was there on the first day. Fifer's father was a violist, and Harris used to come over to his house to play in the basement.

Fifer, an engineer, takes his place in the woodwind section for each Monday evening rehearsal and whenever the orchestra has a paying gig, which is every couple of months. He has played in other groups, but he likes that this one is run by black people and feels more comfortable.

"There's so much of a single dimension in our community where young people aspire to be athletes and/or thugs or popular music stars, when few of us can be that," Fifer said. "Black people are often associated with blues and jazz. But we have folks that appreciate all types of music."

The orchestra's makeup was also a selling point for Tomeka Reid, 25, a native of Chevy Chase who moved to Chicago three years ago. A cello player, she teaches music at a local high school. "When I first moved here, someone said there was a black orchestra on the South Side, and I said, 'I should be a part of that,' " Reid said. "There aren't a lot of black string players anywhere."

But the orchestra is not all black, nor is it all young people. Hank Tausend, who is white, has been playing with the orchestra for a decade. Unlike many other musicians, he makes a living at music, playing jazz and pop at family gatherings, in a Jewish band and at a Korean church. But the orchestra is a place of solace for him. "We play music nobody else plays," Tausend said.

The orchestra plays at plazas downtown, at churches and at local museums. The holiday season can be busy. The otherwise light schedule doesn't bother Calvin Harris (no relation to Leo Harris), who uses the practice time as a way to stay sharp on his clarinet. The Chicago native first got a taste of classical music while he was a student at Louisiana's Grambling State University. He was in the band there, playing popular music, and dancing with everyone else. Classical stood out, though.

Now Harris teaches music at William Penn Elementary on Chicago's West Side. His students mostly listen to R&B and rap, although he does try to slip in a little classical. He likes the fact that the South Side orchestra plays the music of black composers and younger composers who aren't typically played.

"Some of the places we play, the crowds are small," said Harris, 51, who has been teaching for 25 years. "Other places, it's a decent crowd and people really enjoy it."

At the sessions, the music is taken seriously.

"This idiom is misunderstood in society," said David Howard, 47, who drives in from Gary, Ind., to play in the orchestra. He's a first violin and also works out arrangements. "It's not such an exclusive thing as people make it out to be. It's real music and it's accessible and something African Americans have been doing a lot longer than most people realize."

Others have taken note of their work. Several students who have trained through programs run by the South Side orchestra now play jazz and classical music for a living.

"We know of them, and we admire them greatly for the work they do," Holly Hudak, who does community outreach and education for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, said of the South Side orchestra. "We don't have any collaborative programs with the smaller orchestras in the area. But we think they are really important role models for helping people grow in their interest in classical music."

Staying afloat, however, is difficult. Leo Harris now spends much of his time writing grant applications. Loyal donors have stopped giving in recent years, and a local union that used to pay part of the players' fees for concerts is out of money, he said.

"I spend all my time looking for grants," Harris said.

But that doesn't mean his sights are set any lower.

"I've got great plans," he said. "I want to establish classes in all day-care centers around the city. I've already done that on a small scale."