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Archiver > OH-NW-HERITAGE > 2003-10 > 1067212139
From: Bill <>
Subject: Black Swamp Heritage, 26 October 2003, Vol 2 #38
Date: Sun, 26 Oct 2003 18:50:16 -0500
Black Swamp Heritage Articles
(c) Bill Oliver
26 October 2003
Vol 2 Issue: #38
ISBN: 1542-9474
Good Evening from the Black Swamp of NWoHIo,
So very often I use quotes from the late Sidney Harris as an
introduction or beginning for these articles. The most
often one "Things I learned while looking for something
else". This week's will probably be entirely off the top of
my mind and memory.
In what seems decades ago, a Dutch Canadian named Jan
Hassebroek, found and e-mailed, for a granddaughter of mine,
the words to a piece of music that she was searching for.
He signed his reply, "Your Dutch Uncle". Jan ["Yon"] was
very kind and had a most gentle soul. Barb and I had the
great pleasure of visiting him one time in his city of St
Catherines, Ontario. At seventy years young he passed over
last Monday. He was a lover of cats and music, all types of
music, and had one of the finest collections of recordings
that I have ever seen. I'm sure that some DJs would be most
envious. His apartment in St Catherines, Ontario was very
neat with few pictures and absolutely filled with rows and
rows of tapes and CDs and LPs. Jan introduced me to the
Celtic singer, Loreena McKennitt.
So, everything this week revoled around music. And, what I
know about music escaped with the horses when the barn door
was left open. However, I love to listen to music. My
Grandma Lester had a beautiful voice and there was always a
song "on her lips." Mostly Scot and Irish tunes.
In the taverns of Salem, Ohio in the 1850s, there was a play
entitled "The Arkansas Traveler". It was about a squatter
sitting on a cabin porch trying to remember a tune from New
Orleans. The theme was much like the tune and words
attributed to Colonel Sandford C Faulkner, who sometimes is
called the "Arkansas Traveller". In the song, the fiddler
fiddled during a rain where his roof "leaded like a water
fall, ...". A stranger chastises the fiddler for not
fixing the leaks, to which the fiddler replies, "Get along
... for you give me a pain; My cabin never leaks when it
doesn't rain."
That was much like a song my Dad loved and would always use
as an excuse ... "Mañana!" [tomorrow]
Grandma Lester sang so effortlessly. I would mix my songs
... "Tell me a story, tell me a story, and then I'll go to
bed!" Ha! But, I loved to hear her sing, "Tell me the
tales that to me were so dear, ..." Long, Long ago was
written in 1833 by the English songwriter, Thomas Haynes
Bayly, and is reputed to have been the most popular song in
1843 America.
So clearly can I still hear Grandma sing what has always
been a favorite of mine ... "I'll take you Home Again,
Kathleen." It was as an adult that I learned that the tune
wasn't of Irish origin at all. It was written by a
Plainfield, Illinois public school teacher, Thomas
Westendorf, in 1875. This tune and "My Grandfather's Clock"
shared popularity in 1876.
We Americans have a habit of borrowing tunes. The words to
"Sweet Betsey" were written to a variant Scottish melody of
Lord Randall's. Now when I hear Grandma sing "Oh, do you
remember Sweet Betsey frolm Pike ..." I relate to a friend
who descends from the man whose name identifies a Colorado
peak ... "Pike's Peak".
Grandma could sing a sweet, mellow ballad; her voice clear
as a bell. As sad as the words might be read, they never
sounded sad when coming from her lips. So, Jan, I can hear
her yet, ... "Oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife
lowly; And play the dead march as you carry me along; ...
[Streets of Laredo].
Satchmo, Louis Armstrong, had a home in Queens, New York
where his family lived. He would give front porch/stoop
concerts for the neighborhood children. When an "Ice Cream"
peddler/vender approached, Satchmo would buy ice cream for
the children. What a gentle soul ... Jan's soul was like
that.
The Armstrong home in Corona, Queens, New York is registered
as a National Historic Landmark and is being opened this
month [October 15th, 2003] as a museum to honor the Jazz
musician.
America is rich in musical background; not all original to
this country, of course, however, somewhere there is a song
in our history for every purpose. I've adapted a few lines
above and here below.
[With great liberties taken -- editorial substitutions in
brackets]
Dear Fren' Jan, I can't find you ...
"I'll tell you why I can't find you ..."
"You gone fishin' ..."
"Gone fishin' by a shady wady pool ..."
"Papa [Wim] ..."
"I stopped by your place a time or two ..."
"And you aren't home either ..."
"I'm a busy man [Jan], I got [lots] cookin' ..."
"Gone fishin' ..."
"Got your [cat] by your side ..."
"Fleas are bitin' at [it's] hide ..."
"Mister [Jan] and Mister [Wim] ..."
Someday "[You] [goin'] fishin' instead of just a-wishin'
..."
To my everlasting shame, I get so wrapped up in my daily
activities that the day is gone before I remember to write
to those many, many friends and family. I neglect, as I
have with Jan, to write often to family and friends. Werner
and PikeGirl and Sons and Daughters and Cousins, ...........
I think of you all often ..... very often.
e-la-di-e-das-di ha-wi nv-wa-do-hi-ya nv-wa-to-hi-ya-da.
(May you walk in peace and harmony)
Wado,
Bill
-=-
Other sites worth visiting:
Notes:
http://archiver.rootsweb.com/th/index/OH-NW-HERITAGE/
http://www.usgennet.org/usa/ne/state/BillsArticles/BlackSwamp/intro.htm
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