Episode 1. Homespun from Niagara: Recent Episodes
Tommythestoryteller
In the Covid19 pandemic many were confined and under quarantine required to stay at home. For some it was a trying time, for others it was a godsend. Attics, basements and garages were cleaned. Back yards converted to minii vacation sites and the kitchen once again pumped strong as the heart of the home. So to pass some time the idea came to tell stories about songs and sing songs about stories called Homespun from Niagara, right here at StonewallStudios.Enjoy and have a safe and memorable year in 2022.CheersTom
The trip to Haliburton in August of1957 was a first for Vic. As we pulled out of our driveway and onto the old number 8 Highway it struck me that the tide of our friendship might be turning a little. At home, Vic was king; almost a year older and experienced in most skills a kid needs to make most things work. But we were headed north. Vic had never been a whole lot past Toronto. Not to Barrie, Orillia, Norland and Coboconk, these were all going to be new to him. Haliburton was going to be a new "farm" and the guest cottage was going to be our new "barn". Tin Lizzie was a boat, not a wheel barrow, cart or tractor; the tackle box was not a tool box, well kind of a toolbox. The Wunkers were my Grand Parents friends and our grand dad owned the property.
We had been away for trips together, … school day trips…but there was always a whole bus-load of kids…and mostly our lunch got stolen or sat on by the bigger, tough guys like Sach …and we were always home before dark. Sometimes we had to sit with our knees really close together most of the way because after a few bumpy miles you really had to pee…and you weren't supposed to stand up, not ever, while the bus was moving…and the teacher would not let you sing a song unless it was one from music class…and buses then didn't have a washroom anyway.
And we weren't allowed to do much of anything…except when we were allowed to sit in the very back bench seat and we could turn and make faces at the folks in the car behind you…or sometimes we would wave at the cars and trucks that passed you, but that soon got boring because so few of the drivers ever waved back. Mostly big guys sat in the back row …and us little guys had to sit up near the front with the girls, just like we always did in class. The only thing different between a school bus trip and a class room was the noise and the sound of the wheels on the road. Everything else was pretty much the same…when you came from a small two room school you had to walk to, all year round, like Maple Grove.
"Nope, those kind of trips were no fun"!
Footprints is a memoire about almost being a teenager in the 50's, growing up in Niagara, on the bench, in the ravine, on the escarpment and on summer holidays with family on Gull Lake in Haliburton. Some memories remain crystal clear throughout your life because of their footprints on your heart. The memories recorded in Footprints are as accurate as the author can remember.
Leaving Niagara for a weeks' holiday in Haliburton in late summer took a lot of adult planning in the 50's. This meant scheduling between the peach harvest, spraying, slopping the hogs, milking Bossy, feeding the chickens and all the other farm chores for Vic. When you are 11 going on 12 and you live on a small arm and you can drive the tractor, work all day and you can do most the work on a farm that someone twice your age can do. Vic's parents were reluctant to give him some time off so our parents met and it was agreed Vic could go. They determined the week to be the third week in August, 1957 . We could head out on Monday but we had to be back the following Saturday; right around dinner time, well supper time, dinner for them was lunch, that way, neither family would miss Sunday church. Church attendance was an important part of the lives of both our families then. Vic went to church twice on Sundays – once in the morning and then back again in the evening.
Life on the bench was hard work and great fun; fun apple slinging and sledding on the escarpment when the snow conditions were right.
Footprints is a memoire about almost being a teenager in the 50's, growing up in Niagara, on the bench, in the ravine, on the escarpment and on summer holidays with family on Gull Lake in Haliburton. Some memories remain crystal clear throughout your life because of their footprints on your heart. The memories recorded in Footprints are as accurate as the author can remember.
"Well hello again this is homespun from Niagara coming at you this time with a song about City of New Orleans it’s been adapted to Waiting on Pfizer. It was a country folk song written by Steve Goodman recorded in 1971 describing a train ride from Chicago to New Orleans on the Illinois Central. Lyrics were written in May of 2021 and it's been released now in January of 2022 . "
Waiting on Pfizer ( Adaptation of City of New Orleans) Tom Salter 5.28.2021
We’re waiting on Pfizer and Moderna
Astrazeneca and Johnson are comin’ too
Millions of folks and restless drivers - and
Governments with all their cheques ‘n mail
All through this Covid odyssey
Our brains are weak – its hard to see
We’re Isolated in houses, farms and fields
Passing’ time with online texts
Praying for the front line team
Digging’ graves for so many long lost dreams
Good Morning World – how were we?
Ah, you don’t know me – I’m not a native son
We’re waiting on Pfizer and Moderna
AstraZeneca Johnson or someone
Playin’ crib with family in the kitchen
Penny a point ain’t no one keepin’ score
Better burn that paper bag that held that bottle
Listen to the sirens wailing past the door
Schools and colleges closed now with
Sports and outdoor games
We can only dream of getting on
Mothers with their babies asleep
Rocking to an ancient beat
Of the rhythm of the rain is all they hear
Good Morning World how were we?
Ah, you don’t know me I’m not a native son
We’re waiting on Pfizer and Moderna
Astrazeneca, Johnson or some one.
Half the time its night time round this world
Some Counties are closed now and some are free
We're barely 1/2 way there in this Covid mourning
Though this Covid Virus can still attack you or me
All the towns and people seem
To be living a desperate dream
And many folks still ain't heard the news ( the unvacced)
Politicians sing old songs again
About our need to suffer in pain
And the rhythm of the rain is all we hear
Good night to 1/2 the world - rest easy
You don't know me I'm not a native son
Just waiting on Pfizer and Moderna or
Astrazeneca or Johnson or someone.
*“So now its all about Boosters – Boosters are only good for 3 months? Does that mean we need 4 a year? Going forward are we going to need 4 boosters a year. Oh my, I’m not sure if we have the virus under control or if it has us under it's control.
This has been Homespun from Niagara where we tell stories about songs and in some cases make songs into stories produced at StonewallStudios right here in the heart of Niagara.”*
Fields of Athenry [Intro]
| A | A | D | D |
Verse 1]
By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young girl calling
Michael, they have taken you away
For you stole Trevelyan's corn so the young might see the morn'
Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay
Chorus]
Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry
By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young man calling
Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free
Against the famine and the crown, I rebelled, they cut me down
Now you must raise our child with dignity
[Chorus]
By a lonely harbor wall, she watched the last star falling
the prison ship sailed out against the sky
For she'd live in hope and pray for her love in Botany Bay
lonely round the fields of Athenry
[Chorus]
Well, here is another Homespun story about a song and a song about a story. The song is "Freight Train" is an American folk song written by Elizabeth Cotten in the early 20th century, and popularized during the American folk revival and British skiffle[1] period of the 1950s and 1960s. By Cotten's own account in the 1985 BBC series Down Home, she composed “Freight Train” as a teenager (sometime between 1906 and 1912), inspired by the sound of the trains rolling in on the tracks near her home in North Carolina. It became popularized in the American Folk revival and the British Skiffle period of the 50’s and 60’s. There was a claim on copyright which we will talk about later and it had to do with Peggy Seeger. You see Elizabeth Cotton was Peggy Seeger’s nannie.
So here is my Homespun version of Freight Train with the original lyrics written by Elizabeth Cotton more than a hundred and ten years ago.
Freight Train Instrumental · Stuart Duncan · Sam Bush · Mark Howard
Freight Train
Elizabeth Cotten
Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Please don't tell what train I'm on
They won't know what route I'm going
When I'm dead and in my grave
No more good times here I crave
Place the stones at my head and feet
And tell them all I've gone to sleep
When I die, oh bury me deep
Down at the end of old Chestnut Street
So I can hear old Number Nine
As she comes rolling by
Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Please don't tell what train I'm on
They won't know what route I'm going
When she was 90 she won a Grammie in the category of Best Ethnic or Traditional Folk Recording and she continued to give concerts and her last concert was in New York in 1987 just before her death at age 94.
Well, Cotten was a one-time nanny to the folk singer Peggy Seeger, sister to Pete, who took this song with her to England, where it became popular in folk music circles. British songwriters Paul James and Fred Williams subsequently misappropriated as their own composition and copyrighted it. Under their credit, it was then recorded by British skiffle singer Chas McDevitt, who recorded the song in December of 1956. Under advice from his manager (Bill Varley), McDevitt then brought in folk-singer Nancy Whiskey and re-recorded the song and her doing the vocal; and the result was a chart hit. McDevitt's version influenced many young skiffle groups of the day, including The Quarrymen.( The original group of John Lennon). Under the advocacy of the influential Seeger family, the copyright was eventually restored to Cotten.[2][3] Nevertheless, it remains mis-credited in many sources. What a great tune – Freight Train.
In 1979 we had the great honour and pleasure of seeing John Denver and his wonderful band in concert in Nashville Tennessee. We happened to stay at the same hotel. So we saw him afterwards at the Adazzio room. If anyone asks what does he drink? Well, it’s a sherry!
Take Me Home, Country Roads
John Denver
Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growin' like a breeze
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
All my memories, gather 'round her
Miner's lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrops in my eyes
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
I hear her voice in the mornin' hour she calls me
Radio reminds me of my home far away
Drivin' down the road I get a feelin'
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
Well John Denver died on October 12th 1997 when his aircraft, experimental all be it crashed into Monterey Bay off the California Coast
Coward of the County
Kenny Rogers
Everyone considered him the coward of the county …..
He'd never stood one single time
To prove the county wrong……
His mama named him Tommy
But folks just called him "Yellow"…..
Something always told me
They were reading Tommy wrong….
He was only ten years old
When his daddy died in prison
I looked after Tommy
'Cause he was my brother's son
I still recall the final words my brother said to Tommy
"Son my life is over, but yours has just begun"
"Promise me, son
Not to do the things I've done
Walk away from trouble if you can
It won't mean you're weak
If you turn the other cheek
I hope you're old enough to understand
Son, you don't have to fight to be a man"
There's someone for everyone
And Tommy's love was Becky
In her arms, he didn't have to prove he was a man
One day while he was working
The Gatlin boys came calling
They took turns at Becky
And there was three of them
Tommy opened up the door
And saw his Becky crying
The torn dress, the shattered look
Was more than he could stand
He reached above the fireplace
And took down his daddy's picture
As his tears fell on his daddy's face
He heard these words again
"Promise me, son
Not to do the things I've done
Walk away from trouble if you can
Now, it won't mean you're weak
If you turn the other cheek
I hope you're old enough to understand
Son, you don't have to fight to be a man"
The Gatlin boys just laughed at him
When he walked into the barroom
One of them got up
And met him half way 'cross the floor
When Tommy turned around they said
"Hey look! Old Yeller's leaving"
But you could've heard a pin drop
When Tommy stopped and locked the door
Twenty years of crawling
Was bottled up inside him
He wasn't holding nothing back
He let 'em have it all
When Tommy left the barroom
Not a Gatlin boy was standing
He said, "This one's for Becky
As he watched the last one fall
And I heard him say
"I promised you, Dad
Not to do the things you've done
I walk away from trouble when I can
Now please don't think I'm weak
I didn't turn the other cheek
And papa, I sure hope you understand
Sometimes you gotta fight when you're a man"
Everyone considered him the coward of the county
Songwriters: Bowing Roger, Wheeler Billy Edd Bill
Daddy Sang Bass
Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, The Statler Brothers
I remember when I was a lad
Times were hard and things were bad
But there's a silver linin' behind every cloud
Just poor people, that's all we were
Trying to make a livin' out of black land dirt
But we'd get together in a family circle singin' loud
Daddy sang bass
Mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
Singin' seems to help a troubled soul
One of these days and it won't be long
I'll rejoin them in a song
I'm gonna join the family circle at the Throne
No, the circle won't be broken
By and by, Lord, by and by
Daddy sang bass
Mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
In the sky, Lord, in the sky
Now I remember after work
Mama would call in all of us
You could hear us singin' for a country mile
Now little brother has done gone on
But, I'll rejoin him in a song
We'll be together again up yonder in a little while
Daddy sang bass
Mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
'Cause singin' seems to help a troubled soul
One of these days and it won't be long
I'll rejoin them in a song
I'm gonna join the family circle at the Throne
By the Time I Get to Phoenix
Jimmy Webb
By the time I get to Phoenix, she'll be rising
She'll find the note I left hanging on her door
She'll laugh when she reads the part that says
I'm leaving 'cause I've left that girl so many time before
By the time I make Albuquerque, she'll be working
She'll probably stop at lunch and give me a call
But she'll just hear that phone keep on ringing
Off the wall, that's all
By the time I make Oklahoma, she'll be sleeping
She'll turn softly and call my name out low
And she'll cry just to think I'd really leave her
Though time and time I've tried to tell her so
She just didn't know I would really go
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Jimmy Webb
The Kirby Stone Four were an American vocal ensemble popular in the 1950s and early 1960s.[1]
Kirby Stone founded the group in the years after World War II and began playing clubs in the New York area. They won slots on local television, including The Ed Sullivan Show,[1] and soon after signed to Columbia Records. Several LPs followed, including Baubles, Bangles and Beads; their version of the song "Baubles, Bangles and Beads" became a hit in the U.S. in 1958, reaching No. 50 on the Billboard Hot 100.[2] The song was also nominated for a Grammy Award.[3] On the strength of the single, the album reached No. 13 on the Billboard 200.[3]
Baubles, bangles,
Hear how they jing, jing-a-ling-a,
Baubles, bangles,
Bright, shiny beads.
Sparkles, spangles,
My heart will sing, sing-a-ling-a,
Wearing baubles, bangles and beads.
I'll glitter and gleam so,
Make somebody dream so,
That someday he may buy me,
A ring, ring-aling-a,
I've heard that's where it leads,
Wearing baubles and bangles and beads
"Baubles, Bangles & Beads" is a popular song from the 1953 musical Kismet, credited to Robert Wright and George Forrest. Like almost all the music in that show, the melody was based on works by Alexander Borodin,[1] in this case the second theme of the second movement of his String Quartet in D. The "Kismet" setting maintains the original's 3/4 waltz rhythm; pop music settings change the rhythm to a moderate four-beat accompaniment. Jazz musicians are especially drawn to the song's beguiling melody and advanced harmonic structure. The familiar AA'BA+Coda structure of the song is energized by a key change up a major third interval for every section; the transition is marked by a bracing harmonic progression from the central major key of one section to the tritone minor key of the following section. Jazz players and singers have enjoyed the musical challenges of this song for decades.
This version of the classic folk song Banks of the Ohio was recorded by our son,Thomas )(Tawgs) Salter, at his studio in Burlington ON in the fall of 2017. This track features Bill Salter and Doug George on banjo and Vocals - Tom Salter on guitar and vocals.
During the Covid19 Pandemic many were forced to stay at home. For many of us, we were out of the house often before sunrise and in the late fall winter evenings, arrived back home after dark. For others it was on the road at 4:30 am to catch a flight somewhere returning 3-4 days or more later. In some cases, during the lockdown, attics, basements and garages got cleaned. The kitchen, once again, became the heart of the home. In many ways it was good to be back home again. Special thanks to John Denver for this wonderful evocaticve song about getting back home again.
One of the first songs I learned as a young boy growing up on the bench in Niagara, on Cherry Avenue, mid way between Vineland and Beasmville. The memory of seeing this song performed by the Weavers on stage at Massey Hall in the mid 1950's is as clear today, the 10th of October 2021, as it was then. Dear Ronnie Gilbert, Lee Hays, Pete Seeger, Eric Darling and Fred Hellerman - you are etched forever on the harddrive of my mind. I salute you, The Weavers, and thank you for the lifelong inspiration to play and perform and for sharing the love of music as openly and as graciously as you did.