Memories of Mary
Two weeks ago, I received in the mail from Amazon the latest in a long string of Peter,Paul and Mary collections I have owned. This one was the 40 Years Together disc, with remastered versions of the classic songs that I grew up knowing. With their crude stereo recording, the voices were clear in each ear on a long plane flight — not Auto-Tuned, not perfect. Some songs, like “Cruel War,” were a revelation.
I had a cassette of Ten Years Together, the best of from 1970, the year before I was born. “Lemon Tree” was sung to me as a child, and I memorized “Where Have All the Flowers Gone” as a kid as well. I saw them in concert a few times. Mary was really beautiful.
Years later, living in Jacksonville FL, I convinced some of my friends from high school to come to a PP&M concert with me. They laughed, they refused, they caved, thinking it would be ironic fun. As the songs started, I began to sing half-remembered words along with the music, and one of my friends shushed me. Repeatedly. She was getting quite embarrassed. But as the concert went on, I was not the only one singing under my breath. Eventually, Mary stopped between songs and told the audience, “Stop shushing people! This is folk music, it is meant to be sung. If you know the words, please join in!” I sang in full voice after that, and eventually so did my friends as they dimly remembered the story of Stewball the racehorse. At the end of the show, the band stayed on stage, and we were able to walk up and greet them. My friends had tears in their eyes, pulled along by the utter sincerity and commitment that Peter, Paul and Mary had.
I remember convulsing in laughter with their version of the old lady who swallowed a fly.
I saw Peter Yarrow perform once more, at the Kerrville Folk Festival, a giant gathering of people who mostly just share music, a festival where a sign at the entrance to the ranch reads “welcome home.” He gave years to the festival, serving on its advisory board, helping new songwriters get a chance to share their voices.
Once, I was startled to see a familiar face in one of the offices at Origin. It was Peter again, visiting a teammate, the artist Micael Priest. I stuck my head in, didn’t come in to say hello. Micael said I should have.
I put the new CD on my iPod and had my daughter listen. Oh, she said, they did “Puff”? Yes, they did. And they did “If I Had A Hammer,” which I learned in grade school as a class singalong. And as she sang along to “This Land Is Your Land” and “Blowin’ In The Wind,” songs she learned in grade school herself, I thought about all the songs they did that I have not yet learned to play on guitar, songs that are old old friends.
Mary Travers is dead today. Where have all the flowers gone? Picked by young girls, every one.
13 Responses to “Memories of Mary”
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I’m, uh, a bit younger than you, so I’m even more removed from when things were going on, and sadly never got to see the three of them together, but I had the great fortune to be at a function where Peter performed just a few months ago, and I’m not sure it’s possible to walk away from that without being changed, at least a little. Being a child of the 80s, I missed out on all of the social movement stuff from back then, but listening to him play, seeing the effect on the audience, on myself, I came away with just the smallest inkling of what it must have been like.
He talked about how sick she was, so this didn’t come as much of a shock, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Never does.
It’s a sad day.
I’m a lot older and I teethed on PP&M. It’s impossible to describe how important the folk movement is to my generation and in truth, to the changes in America ongoing. To say the least, I am very sad today. My sister goes on and someday so will we all. That is what it is to be human.
In two weeks, I’ll travel with my wife to the Guthrie Center in Great Barrington, Massachusetts to see Arlo and his family perform for three days. It will be a chance to hang out in the church from Alice’s Restaurant, sing the old songs, and be with my tribe. “Songs to aging children come” sang Joni and that is what we are.
Still, younger children are carrying on. Here is something for your sadness from The Burns Sisters, a prayer for joy from angelic voices. Pass it along. That is what we do.
Keep in mind that while Peter, Paul, and Mary popularized many a folk song, they didn’t actually write or originally perform most (any?) of it.
Pete Seeger and Arlo’s father Woodie Guthrie were responsible for a good many of them – that is back when they actually meant something at the time.
Be sure to look up Tom Lehrer’s ode to the “Folk Song Army” for a humorous view of the folks who thought they could change the world with song (and still do).
Oh, I know that. Most of the songs that I listed there were not originally theirs. Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie, Bob Dylan… it doesn’t matter. What PP&M did was bring those songs to people, expose fresh voices, keep a tradition alive and bring new people to it.
Cool post, Raph. Only tangentially familiar with PP&M, but appreciate them more now for this reflection.
Not to mention, got them paid royalties, a quaint old fashioned process where better performers got payments to lesser performing but better songwriters so they could continue to write better songs for performers to perform. It was a pretty good system.
My older sister took me to see PP&M as my first concert ever. It was 1969 and I was 13. We hung out afterward and they came out on stage and signed autographs. I still have the program with all 3 of their signatures. They were kind and gracious. I thought that all performers gave autographs on the stage after a show, but there was no one else like PP&M and there never will be. I will never forget.
Thanks Raph. Nicely stated. My Mom and Dad were/are folkies. The common experience is uncanny. My suggestion: Check out Dan Zanes and friends, and rediscover the joy of singing along with your kids/parents/friends…
Note: This is not spam…this is a sincere endorsement…
Thanks for the memory lane. My son Tim (above) sent me your link. PP&M were a part of many memories for my wife (Mary) and I. Sitting in a Hootrenany at St. Louis University in the Quad singing their songs along withthose of the other folk artists of those years. Interestingly enough, in spite of their anti-war stance we sang their songs in Vietnam. Some things actually transcend politics.
@Corwin, they can. And they are even. Peter’s currently doing a program with elementary schools to help combat bullying through artistic creation; writing songs, poems, expressing themselves through music and collaboration. It seems to be working too.
And Peter definitely wrote some of their work, such as Light One Candle. So maybe many, but not all.
This bit especially resonates. But not just sincerity and commitment. Love. I think they loved their music and fans and each other. And it bled through into their performance. I saw them a few times in LA in the 70s and a couple times in St. Louis in the 80s. My mom was something of a groupie of theirs in the 60s and I got a brief introduction once as a teenager.
I’m kind of out of touch. My kids are 7 and 15 and to the older, folk music doesn’t even exist. Is there something like PP&M or The Weavers or Pete Seeger going on today?
Yes, there’s a very active singer-songwriter scene that is more the inheritors of Dylan, Simon, and Joni Mitchell than the earlier stuff, but much of it shares the same social consciousness.
Super post, Need to mark it on Digg.