The Blizzard of 1983

Reading about this week’s blizzard in Colorado takes me back to the early 1980’s when we lived in the mountains of central Idaho. I find it interesting how certain events and memories just file themselves back in the recesses of our mind until something draws them out. “March 4-6, 1983: 18.7 inches falls at Stapleton Airport, while areas of south metro Denver get socked with 26 inches”.

On March 1st of 1983 my mother called to wish Chandra a Happy Birthday 10th birthday. When I got back on the phone she sadly told me that my Aunt Juanita was very ill and wasn’t expected to live much longer. I was already incredibly homesick and being so far away from my family in Kentucky during this sad time was breaking my heart. Even though spring break was a few weeks away, I begged and pleaded with my husband (the ex-husband - not the great one I have now) to let me drive home. He initially refused for many logical (and a few selfish reasons) but eventually, fed up by my tears and pleading, he relented. However, he did lecture me on how foolish and dangerous it would be to drive through the Rockies in March. I didn’t care. My need to be home with my family overrode any good sense I might have had. Therefore, a few days later the girls and I loaded up our van with snacks and drinks, blankets and games and school work that had to be done while they were away from school and headed east. Chuck could not come with us and for reasons no longer important, he sent me with no money to spend, just a gas credit card to keep me on the road.
As we drove south from Hailey, Idaho towards Salt Lake City the sky was blue and clear. That leg of the drive took about five hours during which the girls played games and kept each other company. They both fell asleep as we approached Salt Lake and I was glad they did. The wind had become quite strong and I had a tough time keeping the van on the highway. I listened on the CB radio to the truckers discussing weather and road conditions. The closer we got to the city, the harder the wind was gusting. There were reports of trains being blown over on the tracks and truckers were advising each other to get off the expressway as soon as they could and head through the mountains. Exasperated from trying to keep the van steady as we were blown from lane to lane I followed the 18-wheelers east onto Route 40. Snow started falling as we climbed the mountains heading toward Park City.
At the top of the first pass the landscape was a winter wonderland in the early afternoon. The winding road through the mountains was breathtaking and I wished I had had time to stop and spend a day or two. However, the snow was becoming heavier by the hour and darkness fell early in the mountains. Soon there was no one on this lonely stretch of road but me. The higher I drove the deeper the snow. It had been pushed and piled higher than my van windows on either side of the road with just the two lanes visible. I drove for hours as the night turned into the wee morning hours. There was no where to pull over to rest in the small towns that were few and far between. With the near blinding snow I probably missed many opportunities to pull off. Luckily I had filled the tank near Salt Lake. I drove slowly with my bright lights on to avoid running up a snow bank or running over, or into, an animal. Because of the wall of snow on either side of the road hundreds of rabbits were hopping in front of me as well as the occasional elk or deer who found travel easier on the highway. Sadly a few rabbits perished due to my inability to dodge them all.
I stopped for gas as we descended into Denver just before my tank went dry. As I paid the clerk, he advised me that the highway was about to be closed due to the heavy snow. I was surprised that a snowstorm would slow down such a large city sitting in the Rockies. He said that there were not enough plows to keep the highway cleared with the amount of snow that was falling. The wind was sending it into drifts as it blew across the plains east of the city.
I had no money for a motel and even if we could find a rest area, we had only enough food and drinks to last another day. It had taken more than 20 hours to drive to Denver what normally took 14 and not wanting to be stranded with an “I told you so” from Chuck, I pulled onto Route 70 and just kept driving east.
The snow lightened as we reached Kansas. I had been at the wheel for a day and a half without stopping. After another 8 hours we reached Missouri where I saw snow-capped mountains on the southern side of the highway. I knew they weren’t really there but I told myself that it was okay and I was only hallucinating. That thought didn’t seem to scare me at the time. Finally, we reached my mother-in-law’s house in Kansas City where we stopped for the night. I wasn’t thrilled about visiting her but the kids needed a hot meal and I needed sleep.
My mother in law, however, made sleep pretty impossible with wanting to scold me on how worried everyone had been and how I hadn’t checked in and Chuck was frantic, blah, blah, blah. After she finished lecturing she switched the conversation to the kids and her son so I just sat and tried to make polite and hopefully intelligent conversation. When I did get to bed it was very late and since I wanted to leave early I got only six hours of sleep. The final leg of our journey was an uneventful ten hour drive which ended at my parent’s home in time for visiting hours at the hospital.
I told no one about seeing snow capped mountains in Missouri or the lack of money for the trip for a long, long time. I needed to be with my aunt and she was so happy to see us that the entire experience was well worth the nail biting trip.
There was yet another bright spot to this journey. Coming across Route 40 in a blizzard had been a total “white” experience but the return trip a few weeks later was quite the opposite. I never again took Route 70 or 80 west of Denver. Instead we took the road less traveled and enjoyed the breathtaking beauty of rural Colorado.

Still Marching to the Music

As I mentioned in my blog from a few days ago, we are "March" ing to the music this month. On Sunday evening Jim and I went to McCauley High School to hear Solas. The tickets were won on WNKU when I was the lucky 6th caller!

On Tuesday (tonight) we drove to Hamilton for the 10th Anniversary of the Music Cafe. It was a joy to hear three of our favorite musicians helping the MC celebrate their success. There was standing room only in the cafe and the celebration was in full swing when we arrived. I found Carol and Joe enjoying the music. Mark Cormican was performing when we arrived. He ended his set with my favorite song of his ... "Always in the Mood for You". I've loved that one since the day I first heard it!

Next up was Eric Loy, a fingerstyle guitarist with some very unusual renditions of known and unknown songs.

We moved up to the front row to enjoy Raison D'Etre. Violet, Roberta and Vicky were performing songs from their newest CD as well as a song from their Swing Canary sets.

Jake Speed had the crowd in stitches at some of his lyrics and stories! I never get tired of hearing Jake and the Freddies.

We had a wonderful time and were only sad that when we got home it was bedtime and not time to play a few tunes. (Ahh, if we were still in our 20's we'd just stay up all night and jam)

It was truly a wonderful night and well worth the drive to Hamilton.

Tommy Sands

After performing at the Covington Library on Saturday afternoon, Jim and I met a handful of friends at the Fairfield Community Arts Center to listen to Tommy Sands. We had met Tommy a few years ago at a festival in Newport, Kentucky. Performing with Tommy on Saturday were his children, Moya and Fionan. I usually have a fidgety time sitting through a two hour concert but not with Tommy. His stories, jokes and touching ballads made the evening fly by. We had the opportunity to speak with Tommy afterwards and he signed a photo that I have had since the festival in Newport a few years back.

Tommy Sands is an Irish treasure and his children are following in his talented footsteps. Moya not only played fiddle, whistle and bohdran but she charmed us with dance steps throughout the evening. Fionan was a bit more low key but he also was a multi-instrumentalist.

They were heading back to Ireland after Saturday nights concert but anytime they are in our area, they are worth the drive to hear them! Tommy songs will move you and make you think while his jokes are fun little rays of humor!

Now I want to learn at least one of his songs to include in our sets!

March to the Music

March has been a month of music for me - either listening or playing. I have performed with the Sweeneys and as a solo artist doing children's music. Its been so much fun and if I add up all the days that we either rehearse or perform, we've been busy.

However, best of all is the music we enjoy by other artists. As I wrote earlier, we enjoyed Joan Baez on the 10th and this weekend we are attending a concert by the truly great Irish singer/songwriter, Tommy Sands. On Sunday we are off to hear Solas, another Celtic band. Include in this the Sunday night Leo Coffeehouse and a few St. Patrick's Day celebrations and we have have a musical month.

On the 14th we joined a group of our friends at a ceilidh - a gathering for music, food and friendship. We are all levels of musicians and we share songs and enjoy each others contributions. I can remember when Jim and I first started hosting ceilidhs in 1992 and I was still taking a full second or two to move my fingers from one chord to another. Lyric sheets were always in front of me and I was a nervous wreck. We have all grown and become more comfortable. Sharing music with family and friends is the best way to March to the Music!!!

Get Outta Here to See Joan Baez

Around 3:00 p.m. on March 10, 2009, Jim and I met up with Julie and Mike for the hour and a half drive to Louisville. We stopped for dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack right on the riverfront and as we ate we watched barges slowing down just in front of us to make their swing into the McAlpine Lock. Leaving the riverfront, we drove into the center of town, found a spot and walked a few blocks to the theater. Standing in the lobby, I enjoyed chatting with the ushers waiting outside of the doors. Being an usher myself, its fun to share experiences, similarities and differences in our theaters.

When we found our seats and the lights dimmed in the Brown Theater, a familiar face took the stage. Stacy Owen, former WNKU personality and now with a Louisville NPR station emceed the evening, welcoming us with her soft voice and sweet smile. The Brown Theater has recently been restored and the ticket office did not exaggerate when they claimed there was not a bad seat in the house. Our seats in the fourth row of the balcony had a wonderful view of the stage with just the right elevation so that the head in front of you did not block the view.

Joan walked onstage to a standing ovation then smiled, thanked us and picked up a parlor size guitar for her first song. Dressed in jeans, a men’s style jacket draped with an aqua blue scarf, she brought the Louisville crowd to their feet again with “Lily of the West”. She talked between songs describing times, places and events. Her second song, “God is God” was written by Steve Earle who also produced her latest release “Day After Tomorrow”. She promised to weave through the decades of her career and went straight to one of her oldest and most loved “Silver Dagger”. We were all moved to tears by “Come Back Woody Guthrie” followed by “Joe Hill”. Joan told stories of her experiences at Woodstock and then sang Donovan’s “Catch the Wind”. She gave credit to each songwriter and explained why the song was special to her. Except that is, about midway through the evening when she sang Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young” and “Don’t Think Twice”, punctuated with her own “Diamonds and Rust” and no explanations were needed. The crowd was moved by “Jerusalem” which I think was also written by Steve Earl. She ended her set with “Imagine” by John Lennon as she fed us lines to share the song with her.

I worried for a minute when she took her bow and walked over to accept flowers from a fan. She seemed to be walking a bit stiff and uncomfortable. I thought to myself she was showing her age. However, when she came back on stage, she had her jeans rolled up and her feet were bare looking quite spry. She admitted that her shoes were killing her feet and any worries about her age rolled away. Still breathtaking at 67, her smile lit up the theater. She seemed small standing among her backing musicians, even in her uncomfortable heels. Her silver hair was illuminated by the light and her trademark silver bracelets somehow stayed out of the way of her guitar playing.

She introduced her band and even her tour assistant, Stephanie Hudacek, who switched Joan’s guitar every few songs. John Doyle was on guitar, mandola and Dirk Powell was on piano, mandolin, fiddle and banjo and Todd Phillips played upright bass. Each of these fine musicians added harmony and backing vocals, too.

After an encore of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” she led us all in “Amazing Grace”. I was honored to again be singing that timeless song with a folk icon who has inspired me for more than 40 years. As all musicians should, she made the song her own and we sang it just a bit differently than we had with Jean Ritchie, Pete Seeger or Judy Collins. It was the perfect ending to a perfect evening.

Get Outta Here - Anticipating Joan Baez

This afternoon Jim and I will join Mike and Julie in a Get Outta Here to Louisville to see and hear Joan Baez. We're hoping to leave Cincinnati before rush hour and arrive in Louisville in time to catch a bite to eat.

Seeing Joan Baez is one more event in my list of legendary folk singers I would like to see/hear/meet. So far its been Pete Seeger, Arlo Guthrie, Joni Mitchell, Judy Collins, Richie Havens, Tom Paxton, Jean Ritchie and more folks I can't think of right at the moment. I was sad to have never seen Odetta. What a legend she was!

I was privileged to have the chance to spend time with Jean Ritchie on several occasions when we brought her to town for concerts. Being a Ritchie by birth, I can only hope that we are somehow related.

I talked with Judy Collins and Tom Paxton and that, too, was wonderful.

Judy, Joni and Joan were huge influences on my learning to play music as a teenager. I guess that goes for most girls my age! Now my role model is Jean Ritchie who said that its the words that matter along with Pete Seeger who is still going strong at 90.

Sadness Comes in Threes

Growing up with family from the hills of Kentucky, we were raised with many superstitions. One was that when you heard of someone dying, there would always be two more. Bad things come in threes. I heard on Saturday that Paul Harvey died. I didn't know him but like many Americans, he was like a wise old uncle who had sage advice and stories to share. On Sunday it was Uncle Al, the host of the children's show we all loved in the 50's. I was on his show at least three times that I can remember. Just today I was waiting for the other shoe to drop (as my mom would have said). Who else would I hear had died? Sadly it was a man I met through work, Wade Nasser. Mr. Nasser ran a small store downtown and had been robbed on a few occasions. Last time he was robbed he chased the burglar down the street, shooting at him. Today, they shot him. My heart breaks for his family because I knew he cared about them and I am sure they loved and respected him, too.

I know that good things come in more than threes. I pray that will remain the same forever.