Jamming

The Missouri River flood of 1993 swallowed-up fertile crop fields, barns, houses, and towns. The BRC founder helped sandbag a levee around the Hitching Post saloon in Hartsburg to deflect the menacing flood waters surrounding the Sunday jam session venue. After Big Muddy later reluctantly returned to its banks, he wrote a tune “The Hitching Post Song” which became a wrap-up anthem for the jamming pickers and singers. The barkeep installed a poster behind the bar to celebrate preservation of the saloon and its weekly music session.

A few years later, the jam session moved up river to a new locale in McBaine, as “Lucy`s” tavern was adjacent to the city water plant and perceived to be beyond the reach of potential river spill-over. The Flood of 2011, however, submerged Lucy`s under nearly 6 feet of Missouri River flood tide. When the tavern was refurbished and thereafter re-opened, the musicians were photographed near a window that bore a bath tub ring-mark at eye level documenting the previous height of the murky waters.  When cyclists from the nearby bike trail would stop-by for a soft drink and ask about the recent flood level, they were pointed to the stained window.

The springtime Flood of 2019 again swallowed-up large tracts of the Show-Me state. A few weeks ago, the Big Muddy finally shrunk below flood stage. Bluegrass jammers convened at a yogurt shop in our capital city located on a central thoroughfare aptly named High St. because the avenue is built on the bluffs safely above the Missouri River.

During the evening song fest, a listener passed-by and recognized the BRC founder from the 1990`s Hartsburg jam sessions and requested the Hitching Post Song from yesteryear. We sang:

Back in `93 the Flood came half through town/ But the sandbaggers turned the River `round/ God bless them all for this dry ground/ I’m riding home late from the Hitching Post tonight!

This month, our weekly jam session in a village near the sprawling Lake of the Ozarks moved temporarily to a nearby ice cream shop because of extensive remodeling underway at the fast food burger venue where we regularly convene on Wednesdays. Our Bluegrass music fans faithfully relocated with us to the new locale.

No sooner had we settled into this new site, when our monthly jam session at the capital city yogurt shop was suddenly postponed at the last minute for 24 hours because of an overlooked confluence of Oktober Fest, a football weekend, and a homecoming parade. Musicians and customers steadfastly adjusted to the surprise schedule change.

We are grateful to the ice cream parlor for graciously housing us this autumn and to the yogurt shop staff and customers for their accommodating flexibility. We pickers are especially appreciative of those friendly folks who wander with us to support live Bluegrass music in their communities.

In between tunes at these jams, listeners invent names for our itinerant band of musicians such as The Yogurt Gang or The Ice Cream Crew.  One youngster glanced-up distractedly  from his cell phone video game and suggested Lisa and the Flamethrowers. Which one do you like?                                       Other suggestions included Lisa and the Milquetoast Rogues or Lisa and the Local Ruffians.

The Bard himself could not have penned a more lovely opening scene for an evening of fun and outdoor frolic than what embraced the Heartland on the last Friday of July- the regular calendar date for a monthly jam session at the yogurt shop hosted by the owner (blue shirt left). Respite from stifling humidity and the scorching heat of a drought, crystal clear skies and refreshingly moderate temperatures enveloped the capital city, and the sidewalk was teeming with families, friends, and revelers from a class reunion at the bistro next door.

Picking and singing with reckless gusto, the Bluegrass musicians were greeted with waves of eager applause from passers-by while our clogger (red shirt right) instructed children on dance footwork as smiling parents looked-on and took pictures. Old pals were reunited in this cheery streetside scene.

The dreamy weekend concluded with a gentle breeze and cooling rainfall that bathed the surrounding soybean fields that thirsted for moisture. During our weekly Sunday afternoon gig at the family-friendly brewpub, siblings joined us onstage for some familiar kids` songs. Tips from both performances went to the Children`s Hospital.

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In the foothills of the Ozarks resides a village that enjoys a Bluegrass jam session one afternoon each week at a town eatery. Not infrequently, a local nursing home sends a van of clients to the premises for an afternoon of entertainment. Some of the regular musicians recently recruited the BRC founder to join them on banjo for a gig at the nearby community Senior Center at its monthly dinner. That night, a dense stormy weather front hung menacingly over southern Missouri as the band took to the stage. The quartet kicked-off with a spirited and familiar hoedown tune.

Despite a hi-tech sound system provided by the venue, deafening thunderclaps soon began to rumble over the building, and the eyes of the audience were drawn to the windows which were illuminated by ominous crackles of lightening. Although only first a trickle, when the wind and chilling rain intensified, the senior citizens began streaming to the doors to get home before the tempest reached its full fury. The band soldiered on to complete its performance before a nearly vacant hall sprinkled with a few dedicated Bluegrass fans and a couple of dutiful staffers. Driving afterwards on a rain-whipped road through a dark and featureless hinterland, the banjo player was glad to return home to the BRC.

The cold and cloudy weather front slowly dissipated and was replaced a few days later by week-long temperatures soaring into the mid 90`s. The musicians regrouped for a sidewalk gig in front of a popular yogurt shop in our capital city. Passersby paused to sing along with sun-filled familiar tunes heralding the arrival of summer to the Heartland. Signaling the end of Missouri`s annual 72 hours of springtime, a seasonal tide of humidity crept over the Show-Me state, and it  will not dispel until autumn.  A portion of the buskers` tips were donated to the Children`s Hospital.

Each mid week, the BRC founder journeys to a jam session at the McD`s burger shop in a rural village located south of the Missouri River and near the sprawling Lake of the Ozarks. En route, Highway 54 winds through the small roadside town of Brazitio which is home to the Missouri Wildflowers Nursery. This cultivated and natural Show-Me garden was the source of the moniker for the “Wildflowers Trio” who were inducted into the BRC Hall of Fame last month.

This threesome of women specializes in sweet gospel harmonies. Lisa picks the guitar and mandolin, Becky fiddles, and Angie is a clogger who teaches youngsters how to dance to Bluegrass music.

At the most recent jam session, the pickers graciously provided some birthday festivities for the BRC founder to celebrate his yearly calendar milestone, as he is a March Hare. Or is it March Heir? Springtime cannot be far away.