Dorky title, huh?
Sure, it’s a play on that old soap opera title, the one
where the globe went spinning across a starlit sky at the beginning of each
episode and the writers had the power to hold viewers spellbound five days a
week for more than forty years.
But after more than forty years in Illinois, our scene has
changed – my husband’s and mine. We left the prairie where we spent all of our
years together and moved to the hills of Missouri, a couple hours from the
rocky, tree-filled, creek-crossed landscape my grandfather left behind almost a
century ago.
There was a lot I looked forward to in moving down here –
the slower pace of life, great neighbors waiting to welcome us, wildlife who
believe they’re neighbors, a lake we love, and rocks, trees and creeks like
those my grandpa left behind.
And there were things I knew I’d miss – family still in
Illinois, friends from work and the community, events related to the history
and literature of Illinois and to the life and legacy of Abraham Lincoln.
Illinois has history
The Bloomington, Ill. area where we lived the last decade and
a half is in the heart of the Eighth Judicial Circuit in which Lincoln
practiced law and was encouraged to run for the Presidency. It’s close enough
to Springfield that I could attend daytime events and evening lectures at the
Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum, Lincoln’s Home, the Old State
Capitol, or the University of Illinois at Springfield, and near enough to
Galesburg for me to make Sandburg Days activities most springs.
I knew I’d miss those things – the intellectual stimulation,
the camaraderie, the sense of pride in those communities rich in history.
Over the past few weeks, though, as our scene has changed –
from that of the prairie to the hills and waters of Missouri and from the green
of summer to the panorama of color I’m capturing in my journal each day – we’ve
found our cultural enrichment scenery changing, too.
Twice in the last few weeks, I journeyed south a couple
hours to Mansfield, Mo. to the Laura Ingalls Wilder Home and Museum. The first
time was to take a friend, a fellow writer, so she could get a sense of where
Laura was when she wrote her Little House
books. The second time, my neighbor
joined me for the community’s Wilder Days festival. The day’s rain could not
dampen our enthusiasm nor make flat the sounds pouring forth as Mansfield
native David Scrivener played Pa Ingalls’ fiddle and a seasoned local performer
accompanied him on the guitar.
Missouri’s got talent
Last week, my hubby and I traveled to Eldon for the
community’s Turkey Festival. There, we listened – for free – to local musicians
playing blue grass and gospel music. We heard an inspirational singer from
Kansas City, a great classic rock band, complete with trumpet player, and
15-year-old “America’s Got Talent” quarterfinalist, Jake Wesley Rogers of
Ozark, Mo. This young man is amazing. He may not have taken top honors in the
television competition, but Jake is a winner. We’ve surely not yet heard the
end of this young man, who made his parents ever more proud that Saturday
afternoon as he entertained the crowd in the small town where the couple grew
up.
Are you wondering if we were becoming tired of music after a
day traversing a small town with stages at each end and in the middle of one of
its main streets?
Nope, not at all.
We went directly from there to the Octoberfest at a Laurie
church, where one man played accordion by the outside beer tent and a band
inside (with another accordion, of course – and a sax) played polkas, German
tunes, some classic rock and the chicken dance, with many of the dancers donning
chicken hats.
This week, we headed out again on a Saturday morning, for
the Apple Festival in Versailles. I had but one thing on my agenda for this
weekend adventure – attending the fiddle contest at the community’s Royal
Theatre.
When we arrived in Versailles, we first hit another
Octoberfest, this one without music or a beer tent, but with a gooseberry pie
so good it made up for the lack of auditory and alcoholic accompaniments.
Once downtown, we made our way up and down the streets and
around the square. We were pleased to see the same Kansas City singer that we’d
heard the week before beginning to warm up on one stage. Warming up on this
Saturday was just that. With temps in the 40s, it wasn’t just the singer’s
vocal chords that were cool. The audience, hands in pockets, huddled for
warmth, felt the chill too – so much so that they ran most of the vendors out
of hot chocolate as the day danced forth.
Spreading good news
with blues
As we waited for the fiddle contest, we made our way to one
street-end stage, where a blues band played, but not just any blues band. The
t-shirts on the table near where Springfield Blues played read, “Using Blues to
Spread the Good News.” These guys were good – from the lead singer to the
harmonica player – and I couldn’t help but wonder if the four Harleys parked
near the band weren’t one more way they reach out to an audience sometimes
resistant to the news they wish to share.
We were sure the fiddle contest would be the highlight of
our day and we weren’t disappointed. The talent ranged from two young female fiddlers
as different as night and day – one looking like the soft-spoken girl next door
and another with an awesome Mohawk – to the senior division fiddlers – two
women, including 82-year-young spunky fiddler Gertrude Hunt (who also is a heck
of a yodeler), to the open division with one woman and a gentleman whose fiddle
and skills said, “I’ve been at this for decades.”
We tapped our toes, swayed with the waltzes and wished at
the end that the music would keep on playing. We learned that, a few years ago,
when the contest was at risk of being discontinued, a family came forward to
sponsor it, saying something like, “That’s part of our heritage. We can’t let
it die.”
We’re glad they didn’t.
Near the end of the chilly afternoon, we had one more treat
– listening to another Missouri native who is making music her profession. We
sat on freezing cold bleachers and watched former Stover resident, now
Nashville entertainer, Shelly Bush, and her all girl broadBand, perform on an
outdoor stage.
“Heck,” we thought, “if they can stand out here and sing and
play, we can sure listen.” It was worth sitting in the cold for, and as they
sang the Zac Brown Band hit, “Chicken Fried,” Little Big Town’s “Pontoon,” and
more, the music made the day just a little warmer.
Yes, our scene has changed – not just the view outside our
window, but the culture we take into our hearts. But, as the family sponsoring
that fiddle contest says, “It’s our heritage,” and in learning about it, this student of regional history is adding another page to her
life’s chapbook.
