I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.
I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.
I hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll ever know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.
Additional words
I hear sagas of old, adventures of new,
Legends and folklore, tall tales and true,
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.
Tellers and listeners, youngsters and old,
Victims and villains and heroes so bold.
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Everything in this story is true, so they say
Some of it actually happened that way.
So, we’ll tell all the stories, retell them and then
Listen anew, find what’s true once again.
I hear sagas of old, adventures of new,
Legends and folklore, tall tales and true,
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.
Yes, I think to myself what a wonderful world.
In a prehistoric time, a small group left the camp to forage for food. They wandered farther than they had ever gone before. They came to a steep ravine. They were about to start the descent when one of them held back and motioned for the others to come. There was a tree lying on the ground, tall enough to span the ravine. With great effort they lifted the small end of the tree and stood it on its big end. They angled it and let it drop so it fell across the ravine. It was The First Bridge. As they walked across it, one of them broke off a branch and used it as a walking aid. It was The First Walking Stick. They continued walking until they came to a field of berries. As they filled their pouches with berries, one of them was attacked by a bear. They started to run away but one of them had the idea to use the walking stick to beat the bear and all the others came with their walking sticks and they chased the bear away. They had to bring their injured fellow back to the camp, but there were unsure of the way. Two of them climbed a tall tree to get a better view. It was The First Lookout Post. Seeing smoke from the camp in the distance, they pointed the way home. When finally they returned home, they so wanted to tell the story of their adventures, they invented language.
The song, Low Bridge, Everybody Down (aka The Erie Canal Song), is widely known. Some people sing it with the words “fifteen years on the Erie Canal” while others sing “fifteen miles on the Erie Canal.” Does it really matter?
The typical explanation for “fifteen miles” is: that is the distance a mule or horse could pull a boat in a six- to eight-hour shift. At a speed of three or four miles per hour, that distance seems a bit short. But, let's not make too big a deal of this questionable distance estimate.
More importantly, “fifteen years” makes more sense in the context of the song and its times. Written by Thomas S. Allen (a successful Tin Pan Alley songwriter who worked in Rochester in this time period), the song was recorded in 1912 and published as sheet music in 1913. At that time, construction of the New York State Barge Canal was well under way (began in 1905 and completed in 1918) and many sections of the Old Erie had already been replaced and abandoned. Motorized propulsion was already displacing mules and horses on the Old Erie and, if anyone had doubts about the demise of this old way of locomotion (and indeed, the whole way of life on the Old Erie) the new Barge Canal would not have a towpath.
This historical context is evident from the sheet music. In the lower right portion of the sheet music cover, notice the newspaper clipping superimposed over the waters of the canal.
Here's an enlargement of the newspaper clipping followed by a transcription.
PLANS TO DISPOSE OF UNUSED PART OF CANAL
Albany, Nov. 23.--Superintendent Peck, of the State Department of Public Works, will recommend to the next legislature the passage of a measure providing for the disposal of the abandoned portion of the Erie canal in such a manner as to secure an equitable return to the state. He believes that this land should be taken over by municipalities for building purposes.
Allen probably learned about the demise of the Old Erie and its replacement by the new Barge Canal while working in Rochester. In his song, he made “Sal” the “poster child” for this dramatic change and its impact on the canallers who made their life on the Old Erie. It is clear from the song that Sal is more than just “a good old worker and a good old pal,” she's a partner, a member of the family, reflected in these lines excerpted from the song:
Where would I be if I lost my pal?
I don't have to call when I want my Sal ... She trots from her stall like a good old gal.
I eat me meals with Sal each day.
The demise of the Old Erie and its way of life is brought into focus with the following lines:
We'd better look 'round for a job old gal Fifteen years on the Erie Canal You bet your life I'd never part with Sal Fifteen years on the Erie Canal
The singer of this song has worked on the Erie for only fifteen years. He might have started working when he was only ten or fifteen years old. He's too young to retire! He has to find another job! And so does Sal. And they're going to look for it together.
In other respects, the song seems to acknowledge that the Old Erie has died and, with Sal as the stand-in for this lost way of life, we're sitting around at the funeral sharing funny stories about good old Sal.
“Giddap there gal, here comes a lock” vs. “Giddap there gal, we've passed that lock”
Here's another change to the words that matters: I learned the words (probably in fourth grade), “Giddap there gal, here comes a lock” instead of the original words, “Giddap there gal, we've passed that lock.” Here's why the words I learned are wrong and the original words are right. First, hauling a 20- or 30-ton boat behind, you can't just suddenly speed up. And, even if you could, you would not take the risk of hitting the lock and damaging your boat or, damaging the lock and getting fined by the Canal commission. Second, while the boat is in the lock chamber, the towline is detached and the mule takes a rest while the boat is locking through. When the boat is at the new level and the gate is ready to be opened, the towline is reattached and the hoggee has to get the mule going again. The original words make so much more sense: “Giddap there gal, we've passed that lock.”
“You'll always know your neighbor” vs. “You can always tell your neighbor”
I learned the words:
You'll always know your neighbor You'll always know your pal If you've ever navigated on The Erie Canal
But, the original words are:
You can always tell your neighbor You can always tell your pal If he's ever navigated on The Erie Canal
Again, in the context of the song and its times, it makes a difference. The singer of the song has lost his job on the Old Erie Canal and has had to find a new job. Nonetheless, when he meets someone new, he can tell—by the way he talks, by his mannerisms—if he ever navigated on the Erie Canal.
In my webinar, The Erie Canal: A Story of Building the Impossible, I include some of the writings about the Erie Canal, historical and fictional. Here's an addition, a fictional story that was made into a successful film. The film has been lost, but the story has been found.
Although the story in The Girl on the Barge (Universal Pictures, 1929) takes place on the Erie Canal, it was filmed on the Champlain Canal in Whitehall, New York. It received good reviews and did well at the box office but, sadly, no prints of the film have been found. So, this film does not appear in my collection, See the Erie Canal at the Movies. A good synopsis of the movie and its filming in Whitehall can be found here.
However, the movie was based on a story, “A Girl on a Barge,” written by Rupert Hughes,
with illustrations by Jules Gotlieb, published in Hearst’s
International Combined with Cosmopolitan (Volume 83, October 1927, pages 50-53, 97-98, 100, 102, 104,
106), the magazine better known today simply as Cosmopolitan.
Here is the story as it appeared in 1927, also available as a pdf file (54mb) here.
In my presentations about the Erie Canal (e.g., “The Erie Canal: A Story of Building the Impossible”), I often use videos to illustrate specific points. Sometimes I don't have enough time to show them (a full presentation takes at least two hours) so, here they are:
1. To surmount the 90' height of Cohoes Falls on the Mohawk River, the builders constructed of a series 19 locks on the original 1825 Erie Canal. Here is Cohoes Falls, as seen from Falls View Park.
2. If Cohoes Falls wasn’t a big enough obstacle, they had to overcome the Niagara Escarpment at the other end of the state in Lockport. Here is a view of the 614' high Niagara Falls, as seen from the bottom.
3. The Nine Mile Creek Aqueduct , originally built in 1844, was restored in 2010. I had a difficult time getting my head around the idea of a canal crossing over on top of a creek or river. This video makes it clear.
4. Given the unprecedented scope and magnitude of the Erie Canal achievement, it’s hard to imagine how people felt when it was completed in 1825. I use this clip, from Ken Burns’ documentary, Brooklyn Bridge, to analogously convey how people might have felt.
5. To suggest what life on the Erie Canal was like, I use some excerpts from the 1935 film, The Farmer Takes a Wife. You can view these scenes here.
6. Most of my presentation focuses on the 19th century Erie Canal. It was replaced by the much bigger New York State Barge Canal. To convey its size, I use a one-minute excerpt from a commercial video, below. The full video (7 minutes), is here.
7. The original entrance to the Erie Canal from the Hudson River is long since buried. This historical map of Albany shows its location, with a modern map superimposed on it.
8. Here is a speeded-up video taken from the bow of Lil’ Diamond IIgoing through Erie Canal Lock 18 in Jacksonburg.
Read about the American Innovation coin Series here.
For more information about the Erie Canal on New York State coins, including alternative designs for this coin, click here.
Designer: Ronald D. Sanders
Sculptor-Engraver: Phebe Hemphill
Description: The New York $1 coin pays homage to the Erie Canal. This design depicts a packet boat being pulled from a city in the East toward the country
areas to the West. Inscriptions are United States of America and New York.
I prepared the following land acknowledgement for a presentation on the Erie Canal. I would appreciate your comments and suggestions.
While I celebrate the Erie Canal, honor its builders, and appreciate its positive impacts, I acknowledge that the Erie Canal is located on the homelands of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy—the participatory democracy that predates and served as a model for the United States of America—the lands of the indigenous people of the Mohawk, Oneida, Tuscarora, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca nations. I acknowledge the Erie Canal's role in the devastation of their ways of living and their restriction to limited or other lands; negative effects that linger to this day. Further, I acknowledge the negative impacts of the Erie Canal as it fostered the westward travel of European settlers into the lands of the indigenous peoples who made their homes in what are now the states of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, and Wisconsin. As we move
forward, I advocate the application the Haudenosaunee “Seventh Generation”
value: in every decision we make, we consider the impact on the next seven
generations. Only by listening to Haudenosaunee and other indigenous peoples will we heal the past and create a more viable future based on respect for all living beings.
In an attempt to provide a realistic—and brief—illustration of life on the Erie Canal, I have excerpted canal and boat scenes from the movie, The Farmer Takes a Wife (1935) (Wikipedia) (IMDB), and arranged them in four one-minute clips.
The story takes place on the Erie Canal, but it was actually filmed on the Lehigh Canal. I believe the canal scenes in the movie present a realistic reflection of life on the Erie Canal.
There are four clips. Each is about one minute long. If you spot anything that strikes you as atypical of the Erie Canal of the 1850s (the period setting of the film), please share your observations in the comment section below or send me an email.
1. Canal & Boats
These clips show the canal and its boats. A brief segment shows a packet boat.
2. Neighbors
This collection of clips is intended to illustrate the neighborly intimacy of life on the canal.
3. Canal Towns
I purposefully removed the soundtrack from these scenes so it doesn't divert attention from the views of the town. Focus your attention on the background scenery (rather than the foreground/ actors).
In the scene at 0.19-0.26, notice the smoke rising from the boats' kitchen stoves and the laundry hanging on the clothesline.
As the characters walk, notice the stores along the canal (one of which they enter at the end of the scene); the Erie Canal is "main street."
4. Life Aboard
Illustrations of the interior of a freight boat are rare. (There is one in Richard Garrity's book, Canal Boatman: My Life on Upstate Waterways.) If these film scenes are anywhere near realistic, I think they would help to convey a sense of life aboard a boat. The furnishings are surely Hollywoodified and, consistent with the story line, the owner of the boat has been furnishing it in anticipation of buying a farm, so they are perhaps oversize for a canal boat. In this case too, I have deleted the soundtrack.
I have been hunkering down so long, it looks like hunkering
up to me.
A scene from perhaps 20 years ago plays out in my mind. I was
at a meeting crowded with social workers and case managers. From the back of
the room a voice called out, “Can anyone tell me the five stages of grief?” It
seemed an out-of-place question for a meeting convened to discuss the new laptop
computer-based case management system. For the past 40 minutes these social workers
had resisted and questioned the system. It intruded on their relationships with
clients; it slowed them down; it wasn’t necessary. “We don’t have to do this!” “It
won’t work because …” “It won’t work unless …” “It will never work!”
And then, this bizarre question from the back of the room.
Of course, in a room full of social workers, everyone knew Kübler Ross’s five
stage model of grief. One person after another answered the question,
calling it out one stage at a time. “Denial.” “Anger.” “Bargaining.” “Depression.”
“Acceptance.”
The voice from the back of the room spoke again. “What stage
are you in now?”
The pertinence of the question became apparent. There was a
long pause as the social workers recognized they were grieving their old ways
of working. They were in denial. They were angry. They were bargaining. They
were depressed.
The pause continued awkwardly until one of them said, “OK,
how can we make this work.”
Acceptance.
*****
From my work with computer viruses, I knew something about how
they spread so, for this pandemic, I fast-forwarded right past denial, anger,
and bargaining and went straight to depression. As I stay at home day after
day, distance myself from others when I do go out, monitor every doorknob,
steering wheel, and can of beans I touch and wipe them down afterwards and wash
my hands, I hold depression at bay and lean to acceptance. I accept this new
normal. This is it.
*****
An old Jewish story comes to mind. My retelling draws on a version by Doug Lipman.
Two
students are studying the psalms and they come to the line, “This is the day
God has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24.) They are
troubled by it, so they ask their rabbi, “On a day when everything is good, it
is easy to say this line with a full heart. But, how can we say it with genuine
intent on a bad day?”
“A good question,” says their rabbi. “For this question, “you
should visit Reb
Zushya.”
To find Reb Zushya the students must travel, by foot, to a
distant village. On the third day of their journey they arrive in the heart of
the village. They ask, “Can you tell us where we can find Reb Zushya?”
“Sorry, we don’t know anyone by that name.”
They knock on many doors, receiving the same response. They continue
to inquire further and further from the center of the village; they begin to
despair. Finally, someone responds, “I recall a man who used to be known by
that name. He lives some distance from here.”
The students follow the villager’s directions and proceed
down a narrow street, which turns into a dirt road, which turns into an
overgrown footpath. They see a small building ahead – a shack, a hut. As they
approach, they notice a window covered with cardboard, the roof missing some shingles,
the outer door hanging askew from its upper hinge. They knock at the door. A
voice from within whispers, “I’ll be with you soon.”
In time, a man opens the door from within and asks, “What
can I do for you, my sons?”
“Our rabbi sent us here to ask a question. Are you Reb
Zushya?”
“Yes, I am. Welcome, come in, but please be quiet. My wife
is very ill, and she has just gone to sleep.” He pointed to a blanket drawn
across the opposite corner of the small room. He waved in the students and pulled
up two wooden boxes so they could sit at his wobbly table, filled three wooden
cups with water, and broke his remaining bread in three pieces. When they each had
something to drink and eat, he asked, “So, what is this question you have come
here to ask?”
One of the students explained, “We were studying the psalms
and came to the line, ‘This is the day God has made, let us rejoice and be glad
in it.’ We were troubled by it, so we asked our rabbi. ‘It is easy to say this
line with a full heart on a good day, but how can we really mean it on a bad
day?’ Our rabbi told us, ‘This is a question you should ask Reb Zushya.’ So,
here we are.”
Puzzled, Reb Zushya looked at one student and then the other
and then leaned back a bit. Shaking his head slowly, he replied, “I don’t know
why your rabbi sent you to ask me this question, I have never had a bad day!”
*****
This virus – like ones before it and ones that will follow –
is no laughing matter. But, in the spirit of hunkering up:
Two buddies walk into a bar. The bartender says, “What’ll
you have?” The first one says, “I’ll have a Corona.” The second says, “I’ll have
what he’s having.”
Scientists have observed a number of similarities among the
various virus outbreaks and have demonstrated that the viruses are copying from
each other. It’s a clear‑cut case of plague‑arism.*
Did you hear the joke about the virus? Never mind, you
probably won’t get it.*
Jewish irony: Passover curtailed because of a plague.*
Many of my fellow storytellers and musicians have announced
cancellations of their performances. Without minimizing their difficulties, I
would like to announce I will not be performing at Carnegie Hall, Radio City
Music Hall, or Madison Square Garden.
* Shamelessly adapted from the Internet.
*****
My title plays on Richard Fariña‘s
1966 book, Been
Down So Long It Looks Like Up to Me. In closing, I refer to Jack Kerouac‘s 1962 novel,
Big Sur. It’s a
fictionalized autobiography in which the main character deteriorates,
physically and mentally, in what seem to be irretrievable downhill slides.
Then, as the book concludes, comes an artful turnaround. Redemption is not out
of reach. Kerouac writes what we hope for.
The Erie Canal appears on the 2001 New York State Quarter – as an afterthought. If you look carefully, you’ll notice the line extending north from New York Harbor to Albany where it makes a sharp turn to the west and continues (passing behind the Statue of Liberty) to Buffalo. Yes, that line represents the Erie Canal, the “gateway to the west.” Indeed, the “Gateway to Freedom” design that won the competition for the 2001 coin beat the “Erie Canal” designs that was submitted (see various alternative designs below).
It looks like the Erie Canal will yet have its day on a United States coin. As shown below, a design depicting a mule-drawn barge on the Erie Canal was recommended by the U.S. Commission of Fine Arts for the U.S. Mint's American Innovation™ $1 Coin Program.
It’s not yet a sure thing. The design recommendation is subject to adoption by Secretary of the Treasury Steven Mnuchin, who has final say. It’s possible he might select one of the competing Erie Canal designs, shown below, or one of the baseball designs or Apollo lunar module designs that were submitted.
In any case, the final version won’t be known until the engraving is compete, translating the chosen design into a mintable coin.
As for those who prefer an image of the Statue of Liberty, fear not. She will appear on the obverse of each and every coin in the American Innovation Dollar Coin series.
For the coin that was actually minted, read Part II, here.
“Songs have been the not-so-secret weapon behind every fight for freedom, every struggle against injustice and bigotry.” ~ E. Y. Harburg
Here’s an easy question:
Which song is sung publicly more often than any other in the United
States?
Answer: The Start Spangled Banner
(Happy Birthday to You is undoubtedly the most often sung, but in private rather than public settings.)
Here's a harder question:
Which song is sung publicly second most often?
(It's not Auld Lang Syne, which is sung publicly, but only once
a year.)
Ready for a hint?
Seventh Inning Stretch
That‘s right, Take Me Out to the Ballgame, sung by crowds of strangers at just about every one of the
thousands of baseball games played each year (albeit only the chorus).
How did the song get to be so well known?
It’s a long and fascinating story. Here's the short of it:
This 1908 song sold six million copies of sheet music in an era when there were only 20 million U.S. households. Perhaps one out of every three or four households had a copy. It was sung in the fledgling movie theaters that blossomed all over the country. Beautifully hand-colored “magic lantern” slides, projected on the screen, helped tell the story of “Katie Casey” who was “baseball mad.” However, it wasn‘t really about baseball! Without lecturing or preaching, it embraced the “New Woman,” a woman who was independent, outspoken, interested in
sports, and deserved to vote! It was
Suffrage’s Secret Song!
The story tells of the songwriters, Jack Norworth and Albert Von Tilzer, the most famous female stars of the day – Trixie Friganza, Louise Dresser, and Nora Bayes (think Madonna, Lady Gaga, Barbara Streisand), Frederick and Louis Rueckheim – creators of Cracker Jack®, and the early history of movie theaters and music publishing. I'd love to tell you the whole story and sing the entire song accompanied by those 1908 song slides. Please see my upcoming shows or contact me to schedule a performance.
Credits:
The image of the woman and bicycle is adapted from the front cover of Jugend, 18 July 1896, No. 29.
The “Votes for Women” sash was made for the Women's Political Union in New York City, 1910-1915. (Image used with permission from Jeff Bridgman.)
In honor of the the 200th anniversary of the Erie Canal (constructed
1817-1825), here are some movies – fictional and documentary – that feature the
Erie Canal. Segments (minutes) are given that illustrate or describe the
canal.
Based on the 1929 novel,
Rome Haul, by Walter Edmonds (which was also the basis for the 1934 Broadway
production
(Wikipedia,
IBDB)), most of this movie involves the Erie Canal. Stars Janet Gaynor and Henry
Fonda (in his first movie appearance), directed by Victor Fleming. Many canal
scenes appear throughout the movie. This scene, which takes place in a tavern,
renders a comic version of Low Bridge, Everybody Down.
A DVD of the movie was released by 20th Century-Fox's Cinema Archives and is
widely available. Also, you can watch the entire movie
here.
Another movie based on Walter Edmond's Rome Haul, this one is a musical
adaptation with songs by Harold Arlen and Dorothy Fields. Stars Betty Grable
and Dale Robertson, directed by Henry Levin. Many canal scenes appear
throughout the movie. You can watch it
here. or here.
The Farmer Takes a Wife, 1940, 1953
The play was adapted for radio, twice! Listen or download the mp3 here:
As John Wayne leads the U.S. Calvary on horseback across the dusty desert
southwest, he calls out, “Singers, give us a tune!” The chosen song?
Low Bridge, Everybody Down (The Erie Canal Song). Stars Maureen O'Hara
and John Wayne, directed by John Ford. Watch it
here. Minutes: 49:12-49:48
Episode 1: The Country and the City (1609-1825); Chapter 10, A
Larger Destiny: The Grid and the Canal
Minutes: 1:33:19-1:43:05
In the next episode of the series,
Episode Two: 1825-1865, Order and Disorder, Chapter Two, The Metropolis of
America, the important role of the Erie Canal in the growth on New York City is
highlighted - minutes 6:38-8:03.
15 Miles On The Erie Canal - Part 1 (2006)
15 Miles On The Erie Canal - Part 2 (2006)
America's Heritage: The Erie Canal (1957)
Carver Companies Move GE Steam Turbines (2016)
That's all for now! If you know of any other Erie Canal scenes at the
movies, please let me know.
While working on a story about Yankee Doodle (which is a great story, by the way), I came across the following song, written for Thomas Jefferson’s inauguration as President of the United States. Sing it to the tune of Yankee Doodle. Any inferences you might make as to its pertinence to current events are your own.
While some on rights and some on wrongs,
Prefer their own reflections,
The People’s right demand our songs
The Right of free elections.
Law and order be the stake,
With freedom and protections.
Let all stand by the ballot box,
For Fair and Free elections.*
For Government and order’s sake
And Law’s important sections,
We should support and pleasure take
In frequent Free elections.
Our Agricult’ral int’rest, Marts,
And Mercantile connections.
With Manufactures, Science, Arts,
Must thrive by free Elections.
To thwart the schemes of Factious bands
Who for us plan subjections,
The cause of Liberty demands,
Our Votes at all Elections.
Should enemies beset us round
Of foreign fierce complexions.**
Undaunted we can stand our ground
Upheld by free Elections.
Elections are to make us laws,
For trade, peace and protections
Who fails to vote forsakes the cause
Of Fair and Free Elections.*
We’ll never from our duty swerve,
Let who will make objections,
But while we live, unchanged preserve,
The Freedom of Elections.
* Verses in the Fair and Free Elections version that differ from the original.
** As used here, I take “complexion” to mean “a complex of attitudes and inclinations” or “overall aspect or character” rather than “the hue or appearance of the skin and especially of the face” (Merriam-Webster). Nonetheless, you might prefer alternative lyrics such as:
“Intent on vote deflections,” “Changing our directions,” or “Tricking our affections.”
To avoid exposing the true liars, the Liars Contest was not recorded. However, since my story was an accurate presentation of what actually happened, I am happy to present the following transcript.
Please note: The attendees at the Susquehanna Folk Festival needed no explanation of local details. For others, a few explanatory notes may be helpful. (Feel free to contact me regarding any other details.)
The Susquehanna Folk Festival Liars Contest took place in York County, Pennsylvania.
You can hardly turn a corner without seeing a road sign that says, “Keep Pennsylvania Beautiful.”
"Muskies" (muskellunge) are among the largest freshwater fish in North America. Some of the best musky fishing is in the Susquehanna River.
Kudzu and purple loosestrife are among the most troublesome invasive plant species in Pennsylvania.
A 25-foot replica of the Statue of Liberty can be found in the Dauphin Narrows section of the Susquehanna River, a few miles upstream from Harrisburg.
Yellow Breeches Creek forms the northern boundary of York County.
Here is my report, as given from the stage at the Susquehanna Folk Festival Liars Contest.
I suppose you all know we’re in York County, but I didn’t know until I had a run-in with the York County Sheriff. He was going to fine me for littering. “Keep Pennsylvania Beautiful.” Hoping he would relent, I explained everything. He said, “Mister, I’m taking you in. I know just the place for you.” And he brought me here and said I had to explain it all to you. So, here I am.
You see, I’ve been reading a book entitled, The Pioneers, subtitled, The Sources of the Susquehanna. It was the first of five best-selling novels by James Fenimore Cooper with a character called “Leatherstocking.” I can see from all the heads nodding that you know what I’m talking about. The Leatherstocking Tales.
Anyway, reading this novel about the famous Leatherstocking, I wanted to see his cave, located on the steep mountainside above Otsego Lake in the part of New York the old-timers call “Leatherstocking Country.” If you’ve made the pilgrimage to the Baseball Hall of Fame you’ve been there, even if you didn’t know it. So, I hiked up there, and just as I got to Leatherstocking’s cave, what comes charging at me but a polar bear! Now I met this polar bear once before, up in the Adirondacks, and I knew he was making his way from the North Pole to the South Pole. You see, that bear was bipolar.
I didn’t want to be that bear’s breakfast, so I had to act quick. I could try to outrun him, or I could jump off the mountain. Luckily, I jumped off the mountain. As I was falling the 600 feet from the mountain down to the shore of Otsego Lake, suddenly I knew the answer to the great question about life, the universe, and everything. I wanted to write it down right away because, once I smacked into the ground, I was apt to forget it. So, I reached into my backpack for a sheet of paper. That paper was fluttering so wildly I had to hold onto it with two hands, and it billowed up above my head, and glided me down to a gentle landing on the shore of Otsego Lake.
I looked back up the mountain but, I was feeling pretty low. So, I reached into my backpack for my pot. I selected a nice hand-sized rock from the shore of the lake, and I hammered that big aluminum pot into a canoe and flattened my cook spoon into a paddle.
I paddled that canoe down Otsego Lake and there, at the southern end, was a sign said this was the source of the Susquehanna. It was such a tiny stream, I couldn’t believe it. I don’t believe anything unless I read it on the Internet because “the Internet is a credible and reliable source of information,” and that’s a direct quote from Abraham Lincoln. So, I figured I’d paddle down this little creek and see for myself if turned into the mighty Susquehanna.
After a distance, I got tired of paddling, and hungry too, so I was not displeased when the creek turned into Goodyear Lake. I figured I would catch me a fish. I saw a nice walleye down there, so I reached into my backpack and got my magnifying glass. Now a lot of old-timers use the magnifying class to concentrate the rays of the sun directly on the fish, and cook it down there in the water, but I have found that tends to cook the fish unevenly. The way I do it is to focus the sun’s rays just below the fish, so’s to heat up the water under the fish, and the upwelling of that warmed water lifts the fish right up. As it broke the surface, I reached out and caught that fish in my hand, filleted it with the sharp edge of my paddle, and played the magnifying glass across it so it cooked up evenly. It was the best magnifying-glass-caught-and-cooked fish I’d ever had. OK, that might be an overstatement. It was maybe only the second-best.
Fortunately, my attentiveness to that fish kept me from being distracted by all the people waving and hollering something about the Colliers Dam at the end of Goodyear Lake. The 35-foot drop over the dam and the rushing rapids below presented a welcome change of pace and speeded my journey considerably.
I won't bore you with how I trained a pair of muskies to tow the canoe, or the recipe I developed for a kudzu and loosestrife burrito. I will tell you this. As the river got bigger, I began to think this really was the Mighty Susquehanna and I had paddled down from its very source! But, as I was coming close to what I thought was Harrisburg, right there in the middle of the river, was the Statue of Liberty! I got suspicious and thought I’d better check my whereabouts. So, I paddled over to the shore and beached the canoe just past Yellow Breeches Creek. That’s when the sheriff fined me for littering. I give him credit. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit my hand-rock hammered canoe and paddle looked like garbage, even though you and I know different.
Anyway, I explained it all to the sheriff, and that’s when he brought me here. He offered me a piece of advice. “Mister,” he said, “if you say you paddled upstream from the Chesapeake, it will make a better story.”
“Sheriff,” I replied, “I wouldn’t lie just to tell a better story.”
In Houston, they say the first word spoken on the moon was “Houston.” As Neil Armstrong said, “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.” But in New York, and especially in Kinderhook, we know differently.
In the late 1830s a verbal fad emerged from Boston. Using comically misspelled words and their initials, a common phrase such as “no use” became “know yuse” or “K.Y.”; “no go” became “know go” or “K.G.”; “enough said” became “nuff said” or “N.S.” Like all fads, this one died, with one notable exception.
The use of “O.K.” for “oll korrekt,” a comic misspelling of “all correct,” first appeared in the Boston Morning Post of March 23, 1839 and was soon picked up by other newspapers.
The use of "O.K." would have been another short-lived fad except for the 1840 presidential campaign. Martin Van Buren, a native of Kinderhook, New York, ran for re-election as President of the United States during a weak economy that many blamed on him. To bolster his image, his campaign recalled “Old Hickory,” the nickname of the popular former president, Andrew Jackson, and called Van Buren “Old Kinderhook.”
Not coincidentally, “Old Kinderhook” shared the same initials as the
trending “O.K.”, and “OK Clubs,” supporting Old Kinderhook’s candidacy,
abounded. “Old Kinderhook” was “OK.”
The opposing candidate, William Henry Harrison, turned this to his own
advantage by using “OK” to denigrate Van Buren, calling him “Out of
Kash,” “Orfully Konfused,” and “Orful Katastrophe.” Harrison won in a
landslide.
Propelled by the presidential campaign, “OK” soon became entrenched in
American English and has since been adopted by many languages. Arguably,
it is the most popular word in the world.
As for the first word
spoken on the moon, listen carefully to the recorded voices of Buzz
Aldrin and Neil Armstrong as the Eagle approaches the moon. You will
hear Buzz Aldrin say, “contact light” (at 0:39), meaning the 67-inch
probe beneath the lunar lander contacted the surface and, four seconds
later, “OK, engine stop,” meaning the Eagle came to rest on the lunar
surface and the engine was turned off.
“Old Kinderhook” would be proud.
Note:
This much-abbreviated history of “OK” is in debt to Columbia University
Professor of English, Allen Walker Read, who published a series of six
articles on the subject in American Speech in 1963 and 1964. His research was summarized and expanded by Allan Metcalf in his 2012 book, OK: The Improbable Story of America's Greatest Word.
After years of searching, I found Pete Seeger’s 1959 tribute to Lead Belly, a unique rendition of Pete’s well-known 12‑string guitar instrumental, Living in the Country.
Pete introduces Track 4, I Knew Leadbelly, as follows:
This friend of mine, who died just ten years ago this December, was during his life very little known outside of a narrow circle of people who loved his music. His music never got on the hit parade, until after he died. Six months after he died, his song, Goodnight Irene, sold about two million copies. Huddie Ledbetter didn’t play very fancy guitar, but what he played was so powerful, he couldn’t help but impress people; very straightforward.
What follows is a one-minute Lead-Belly-like instrumental that gracefully transitions into a 1¾ minute version of Living in the Country as I heard it for the first time in the ’60s. For that story, click here.
Pete Seeger in England is a 2016 re‑release by Fellside Recordings of two previous albums, Pete Seeger in Concert Vols. 1 & 2, recorded October 4, 1959 at the St. Pancras Town Hall, London, and a recording made of his concert in February 1964, at Free Trade Hall, Manchester. The recording is also available on Amazon. You can hear the beginning of the track on Amazon's UK website, here: I Knew Leadbelly.
The legendary American Folk singer’s career had been seriously knocked off course by the McCarthy witch-hunts into Unamerican Activities in the USA affecting artists believed to be communists. At
one stage Seeger was facing a ten year prison sentence, but he managed to visit the UK in 1958. The concert was recorded and issued by the Folklore label which emanated out of the Dobell’s record shop on Charing Cross road in West London. In 1964 he was back again and at one concert, at Manchester’s Free Trade Hall, he was recorded again.
Both concerts on this DOUBLE CD FOR THE PRICE OF ONE set are typical Seeger material of that time. He talks about his friends Leadbelly and Woody Guthrie and champions new songwriters like Tom
Paxton and Malvina Reynolds. The concerts also give a wonderful insight to how Seeger worked an audience and had them eating out of his hand. His ability to engage the audience is an object lesson for young performers. The Folklore LPs had limited circulation and the Manchester concert has never been heard before. The booklet comes with an informative essay about Pete Seeger by Joe Stead.
Update: 9 August 2026
Here is another recording on Folkways FA 2439, Nonesuch and Other Folk Tunes by
Pete Seeger and Frank Hamilton, where it's entitled "Singing in the Country." In an interview with Pete Seeger in the July 2002 issue of Acoustic Guitar, reprinted here, Pete refers to this version and says,
And, as of last month I have put, of all things, words to it—not to my tune, but to what Frank Hamilton improvised. We made a Folkways record years ago called Nonesuch, and on a steel-string guitar, he played three notes above the melody of “Living in the Country,” and it was a melody all on its own. So I am now sending this to my long-suffering publisher and saying melody by Frank Hamilton, words by Pete Seeger. [Sings] “If you would be patient and teach me I think that I could learn to dance.” It’s the best love song I’ve ever written. I wrote those words ten years ago, but I couldn’t figure what to make of the rest of it until just three weeks ago.
So, there's a reference to the words for this well-known 12-string guitar instrumental. But I still can't find it!
P.S. I should note that "Living in the Country" is likely a reference to a line from Lead Belly's "Goodnight, Irene:"
Sometimes I live in the country Sometimes I live in the town Sometimes I have a great notion To jump in the river and drown.
