Memories Of Musical Moments

Memories Of Musical Moments by EDNA RITCHIE BAKER As far back as I can remember, singing was a natural activity in our home—an activity that I imagined took place in every home. We sang while we washed dishes, while we rocked the baby, and while we hoed corn on the hillsides. On winter evenings we sang in a semi-circle around the wood fire, and on summer evenings we gathered on the wide front porch and "sang die moon up." We sang all kinds of songs, from hymns to funny songs. Our favorite hymn was "Twilight Is Stealing," a song with a simple, easily-harmonized melody, and words soothing and faintly nostalgic. Twilight Is Stealing An Old Hymn 1. Twilight is stealing over the sea, Shadows are falling dark on the lea; Borne on die night wind, voices of yore Come from that far-off shore. Chorus: Far away, beyond the star-lit skies Where the love light never, never dies, Gleameth the mansions, filled with delight, Sweet happy home so bright. 2. Voices of loved ones, songs of die past Still linger round me while life shall last. Lonely I wander, sadly I roam, Seeking that far-off home. (Chorus) 3. Come in the twilight, come, come to me, Bringing sweet message over the sea Cheering my pathway while here I roam Seeking that far-off home. (Chorus) I cannot remember the first song I ever sang, but my folks say it was "Pretty Polly," a gory ballad for such a little girl, but I evidently didn't get much farther in the story than "Pretty Polly, pretty Polly," then I would say "That's too high!" 59 Then I'd start it again, and say, "That's too low!" I would walk up and down for hours, picking flowers and chasing butterflies, trying to get "Pretty Polly" in the right key. Pretty Polly 1. Pretty Polly, pretty Polly come go 'long with me, Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, come go 'long with me, Before we get married, some pleasure to see." 2. He led her o'er hills and o'er valleys so deep, He led her o'er hills and o'er valleys so deep, Until Pretty Polly began for to weep. 3. "Oh Willie, Oh WiIHe, I'm 'fraid of your ways (repeat) I'm 'fraid you will lead my poor body astray." 4. "Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, you're guessing 'bout right (repeat) I dug on your grave the best part of last night." 5. He led her a little farther, and what did she spy (repeat) But a new-duggen grave and a spade lying by. 6. He stabbed her to the heart, and the heart's blood did flow (repeat) And down in the grave pretty Polly must go. 7. He threw a little dirt over her and started for home (repeat) Leaving nothing behind but the wild birds to mourn. 8. A debt to the Devil poor Willie must pay (repeat) For killing Prety Polly and running away. Mountain Ballad One of my early memories is my standing by the "library" table, picking out tunes on our first family dulcimer, a long, box-shaped instrument made by Uncle Will Singleton , a great uncle who lived in our community, Viper, Kentucky. The dulcimer had three strings and a wonderful, ringing tone. My sisters and I would take turns picking out tunes like "Jackaro," "Barbara Allen" and songs we sang in school such as "Long, Long Ago," "Nellie Gray," and the beautiful songs of Stephen Foster. My father purchased a pump organ when I was about eight years old, and when I was ten, my family decided I was the one who should study music! So, for fifty cents an hour, I went to the home of Mrs. Syron, a missionary lady who lived nearby, and learned my notes and scales, and was soon playing simple hymns in Sunday School—"What a Friend We have in Jesus," "Rescue the Perishing," and "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." In the sixth and eighth grades, my teacher was John D. Bowling, who was an excellent teacher, but one who loved classical music, and introduced us to Brahms...