By Dave Kline - The Reading Eagle, Berks Country, Mountain Folklore - 11/1/2017

Part one of two.

 

For you to fully appreciate this column over the next two weeks, I need to share three contributing factors that inspired me to write it. I'll share two here, and the third next week.

 

The first inspiration is a discussion I had a few months ago with Irish author Kevin Martin in one of the back rooms of the venerable labyrinth of the establishment known as Matt Molloy's Pub in Westport, Ireland. Kevin's latest book "The History of the Irish Pub - Have Ye No Homes to Go To," has a wonderful section devoted to explaining why bards, or those who could convey stories and legends through music and storytelling, were once held in high esteem in the courts of kings, queens and gentry.

 

Before the written word was common, bards conveyed stories and history through music. The skill was held in high regard and bards were paid very handsomely and also received generous benefits.

 

My second inspiration for this week's column comes from a song written by Al Parrish. I first met Al years ago when I hired the band he was performing with, Tanglefoot, from Ontario, to play the Reading Riverfest on Riverfront Drive along the Schuylkill River. I wonder if any of you remember those wonderful days.

 

Anyway, Al wrote and recorded a powerful bard-like story song called "The Music in the Wood." He told about an old-time gent named Sam who was a woodworker and carriage craftsman. When I chatted with Al backstage at Riverfest about the character in his song, he told me that Sam was based on his great-grandfather's life.

 

In a recent communication with Al, he offered even more details about the central character in his song.

"He was my mom's mother's dad," he said. "I've always felt that his devil-may-care attitude is much easier to admire from a few generations away. But admire it I do."

 

In the song, Sam made a lot of money building and selling carriages and this really pleased his wife. What didn't please his wife was that Sam wasn't content building carriages because he felt as though it wasn't his true calling. Sam spent hours in the forest with his children teaching them about trees and what kind of wood they'd yield when harvested.

 

Of all the species, Sam most revered trees that produced tonewood, or wood that could be used to make musical instruments such as violins. Music and stories of drama, joy and compassion are all stored up in that kind of wood, just waiting to be shared. Sam was gripped by a powerful urge to unlock the music in the wood by crafting it into violins.

 

Violins weren't as profitable as carriages, but Sam didn't care. In the end, decades, indeed centuries after Sam's passing, the carriages he built had been discarded or turned to dust. But the violins he built were mostly still being played and enriching people's lives by conveying the music in the wood. Sam's spirit energy continues to live every time one of his violins is played.

 

I find this song profoundly moving. Here is one verse and a chorus:

Old Sam was no provider, his few carriages are gone,

But the fiddles made for naught but love preserve the wood and still sing his song.

While some men heard a calling to gain a carriage maker's wealth,

Another voice told Sam he should be building something else.

Put your hands to the wood and touch the music put there by the summer sun and wind,

And the rhythms of the rain locked within the rings, and let your fingers find, the music in the wood.