"40 Years and a Mule" (March 2008)

Memphis - mid-section of the Big River, the city of blues and barbeque, and forever stained with the blood of the Dreamer. It's also home to the annual North American Folk Alliance conference, perhaps best described as an anti-trade show trade show for those in the business of acoustic music. Every February, musicians, radio hosts, reviewers, presenters, venue operators and even a few fans gather for a few days downtown by the pyramid.

I enjoy these gatherings, chaotic as they often are, for the camaraderie, the music, the chance to collectively experience Memphis together with friends and colleagues old and new. This year's may have been the most fun yet for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that I was not as overprogrammed as usual. I got out of the hotel each day, walking or taking the trolley to experience the sights and sounds. The presence of the big #1 vs. #2, Memphis versus Tennessee men's college basketball game in town Saturday night only added to the electricity.

But I also came with a purpose. For the first time in Memphis as a new dad, I felt like I needed to see something, to experience history that my parents will always remember. The National Civil Rights Museum is in Memphis, enveloping the non-descript downtown motel where Martin Luther King fell. I guess I had to see it, to experience it, to try to understand what those times were like for the people who lived through it, as well as the people who witnessed from afar like the new parents that were my own. And in this spring, 40 years later, when perhaps an African-American may soon become President and start a new chapter in history. I had to go, and I had to know.

It was mesmerizing. Not just the words and images, the dioramas and displays. Perhaps the most amazing element was the troupe of adults, moving ahead of two groups of local schoolchildren, all African-American. These adults acted out a series of skits they'd created as they all moved through the museum together. And while I was struck by the scenes and the power of personalities that propelled them, I was also keenly aware that these adults were investing of themselves in these children - grade schoolers and high schoolers alike. Giving of themselves to help bring their history and their journey into sharp focus. Investing in the next generation.

We may stand on the cusp of history, or not, but we do indeed stand on the tracks of those who have come before. I am certainly aware of this as a new parent - each generation that brings the next into the world, wondering into what world they have brought this beautiful and innocent baby. The summer that I was born violence raged across the segregated South. Two teenagers were murdered and thrown in the Mississippi River by a Klansman. Any parent's worst nightmare, but all too real a scenario for so many. From the post-Civil War Emancipation and "40 acres and a mule" to the back of the bus and "separate but equal" in a century.

This summer, as we worked on the new record, a 72-year old man was finally brought to justice for that crime. Forty years is a mighty long time, and while it is easy to be discouraged about the state of this world that I have now helped deliver a new life into, it is clear that we have also managed to come a mighty long way. There is still time for dreamers, and space for progress.

The song that sort of wrapped itself around those sentiments and events, for new parents and old ones, written together with my good friend Jon Carroll, is called "Bridges". From the perspective of my parents in that tumultuous summer, my own experience now forty-odd years later, and into the future when perhaps I will be a new grandfather. It is on the new CD.

My visit to Memphis will stick with me for a long time. The world works in strange ways, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised to come away from such an experience with a new bit of understanding about my own parents. I guess over the course of forty years, that's always progress too! (Side note: they don't seem to have anything but joy about being grandparents though, so maybe that part will be different :)