The first song I ever remember singing in school was "Sixteen Tons." It was made famous in 1955 by Tennessee Ernie Ford, with his rich baritone voice, and made infamous by the 25 screeching sopranos in my first grade class. It's not easy for 6-year-olds to come across as aging, depressed coal miners, but our teacher apparently thought we could pull it off, so "Sixteen Tons" was going to be the entertainment for one of the PTA meetings during the school year. Nowadays, such a selection would be considered inappropriate for children and the school board would be barraged with complaints, but Fredonia, circa 1955, was not in a litigious mood.
Our version of "Sixteen Tons" came with accompaniment from some of the rhythm band members, those who played the wooden blocks and could keep time with the music. One student played the somber role of the laboring miner, hacking away at make-believe rocks. The rest of us sang: "Sooooooome people say a man is made out of mud...." We had no clue whatsoever what the words meant. Who was St. Peter and why would he be calling me? How could "....I owe my soul to (dramatic pause) the company store"? What's a company store? What's a soul? "...Another day older and deeper in debt." Hey, in those days my biggest debt was a quarter for a week's worth of school hot lunches.
Well, regardless of the challenges we budding Hit Paraders gave her, our teacher forged ahead and got us ready for our big PTA gig. I remember actually being quite excited about it because I had a special role. As soon as the rhythm band blockheads and fake miner did four beats, I was to do a solo--consisting of one word, "Sooooooooome...." then the rest of the singers would join in. It was quite an important role, of course. Without me being lead vocal, it would just be one jumbled up ball of mud for that poor ol' miner.
The big evening arrived, we hit the mark, and the 1st grade class at Mound School gave the best performance in PTA history--in my mind. No silly, cutesy kid songs for us six-year-olds. Not only could we sing serious, passionate lyrics, but we also did our own accompaniment (blocks) and choreography (fake miner). We were weary coal miners, and we received enough polite applause to wipe the serious Sixteen-Ton-frowns right off our faces. Tennessee Ernie, himself, would have been proud. Those lousy 6th graders would have to give us some respect from now on.
Our version of "Sixteen Tons" came with accompaniment from some of the rhythm band members, those who played the wooden blocks and could keep time with the music. One student played the somber role of the laboring miner, hacking away at make-believe rocks. The rest of us sang: "Sooooooome people say a man is made out of mud...." We had no clue whatsoever what the words meant. Who was St. Peter and why would he be calling me? How could "....I owe my soul to (dramatic pause) the company store"? What's a company store? What's a soul? "...Another day older and deeper in debt." Hey, in those days my biggest debt was a quarter for a week's worth of school hot lunches.
Well, regardless of the challenges we budding Hit Paraders gave her, our teacher forged ahead and got us ready for our big PTA gig. I remember actually being quite excited about it because I had a special role. As soon as the rhythm band blockheads and fake miner did four beats, I was to do a solo--consisting of one word, "Sooooooooome...." then the rest of the singers would join in. It was quite an important role, of course. Without me being lead vocal, it would just be one jumbled up ball of mud for that poor ol' miner.
The big evening arrived, we hit the mark, and the 1st grade class at Mound School gave the best performance in PTA history--in my mind. No silly, cutesy kid songs for us six-year-olds. Not only could we sing serious, passionate lyrics, but we also did our own accompaniment (blocks) and choreography (fake miner). We were weary coal miners, and we received enough polite applause to wipe the serious Sixteen-Ton-frowns right off our faces. Tennessee Ernie, himself, would have been proud. Those lousy 6th graders would have to give us some respect from now on.
2 comments:
Was Miss Lounsberry your music teacher?
No, at that time Mrs. Rankin did it all. She was amazing. I played the tambourine in the rhythm band. I was always so jealous of the bird tweeters because they got to go out in the hallway and put water in their birds and make drippy messes....key word here being MESS!!!
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