Little Egypt Heritage Articles Stories of Southern Illinois (c) Bill Oliver 26 October 2003 Vol 2 Issue: #38 ISBN: pending Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen of Little Egypt, 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: http://archiver.rootsweb.com/th/index/SOIL http://archiver.rootsweb.com/th/index/ILMASSAC http://www.usgennet.org/usa/ne/state/BillsArticles/LittleEgypt/intro.html