After stopping by the office to pick up some paperwork for a meeting tomorrow morning, the bus almost blew past me, and left me disgruntled, angry, and just simply in a terrible mood. After coming home, I discovered that my instruments had finally come in the mail, along with chocolate and a note from my cat (and family) for valentines day.
The package simply made my day.
After a quick inspection and a chocolate dinner, I got to fiddling, tuning, and playing my instruments.
There is no feeling quite like picking up something you love, and have practiced so much, for a reunion. I quickly found myself tuning the instruments, remembering the knobs and metal strings involved.
The fiddle is of low quality, a simple, elegant looking thing, but poorly made. I take pride in this. I have rocked the fiddle at different concerts, and I don't think one needs high caliber to enjoy music and entertain others. I acquired the fiddle from my sister for taking lessons at college, or at least both classes offered, and I simply fell in love with it. I am not the best player, but it just thrills me to find the customization in sliding, changing your fingers every so much, and getting the strains out of the notes as you slide the bow across the strings. And there are equal parts in mastering the position of your fingers on the board (without frets, a challenge all to itself), and handling the bow to get the perfect sounding note. Besides Lego's, and perhaps the occasional really enjoyable video game, I don't think I have ever experienced the joy that comes with sawing out squeaky notes on metal strung across wood.
The dulcimer on the other hand has a lot more behind it, but has some of the richest local stories behind it:
When looking for a dulcimer, my mother found this beauty on Craigslist offered for $20. She inquired immediately, since dulcimers at this point have become a relic for nostalgiaists to spend lots of money on to play a shiny recently made instrument. The woman got back with her, and said if they could organize a way to meet, she would go halfway and sell the dulcimer.
The weeks never worked out from either of them, and one day the dulcimer just showed up on our doorstep in a fake Christmas tree box, wrapped with brown paper. No note, not explanation, just a dulcimer. My mom inquired, and eventually the woman got back with us and told her she thought I was determined enough and it would be better when played in my hands than hung on a wall. Because my mom exchanged addresses with this woman for meeting up half way, she decided to mail her $40 for the trouble of packaging it up, and shipping it to us with no expectations of payment or explanation.
When I finally came home from college for a break, I saw it, and immediately started messing around with it. I shook it, and there was a piece of paper wrapped up inside. My mom gave me a photocopy of what it said:
What a history this dulcimer has. After much tracking down, and the investigation of the engraving in the dulcimer, we figured out it was made by M. J. Amburgey (Morris Amburgey in the note) in Hindman, Kentucky, who was a student at the folk school in Hindman and was locally and regionally known as a dulcimer craftsman. This one is #37, so I can only assume it is number thirty seven of the 200 or so he made (or at least reported in the sources we could find).
At one point M. J. must have worked with the engineering department at the city of Lancaster (Ohio, it makes the most sense regionally) and given this particular dulcimer to Cleo M. Lanier on M. J.'s next to last day with the city. There are two more clues to who the Cleo is in the story: His/her name is written on the inside of the tuning peg chamber on the dulcimer, as well on the outside of the same chamber on the end piece of the duclimer.
Eventually, the dulcimer must have been given to Don Swick, presumably by Cleo, three years after M. J. gave it to Cleo. Don was the father of the woman who we bought the dulcimer from, so now we have a direct connection to the present...
But there remains one striking question: How did Cleo put his/her name on the inside of the peg chamber, if he did not build it, and who was he/she? What is their connection to this story? Another great observation is that this dulcimer has had an incredible geographical journey:
It started out in Hindman, Kentucky, where it was made in 1974, and eventually brought to Lancaster, (Ohio?) in the early 1980's. This is the same Lancaster where I would spend many of my years of my childhood and adolescent life just a mere twenty years later. It then found its way to central southern Ohio, to rest upon a wall as a decorative piece until 2011 when it would be discovered via the internet, and shipped closer to its 1980 home.
Then the dulcimer would be driven back and forth to North Carolina, passing within 20 miles of its origin point of Hindman, Kentucky many times. Finally, it is currently in Washington state, shipped over 2500 miles from its origin, to be tuned up, strummed, and still enjoyed by a person who most likely met direct decedents of its creator in person or in passing within the small city he enjoyed before he set off to college.
We put lots of value on physical things in this world, and I don't necessarily think that is a bad thing. Physical objects help qualify our current condition, and help us to enjoy and understand the temporary presence we enjoy in this increasingly nonstop world. And this dulcimer, through its stories and relatively modern history, still fulfills this promise via its nailed together body, and staples for frets.
Three strings are a simple setup, and the smell might not match a 100 year old instrument, but its good enough for me, and makes me ponder the unknowns. Everyday tomes hold so much weight behind them, and as much as I like to look at personal relationships and interactions throughout time, its always good to step back and look at some of the more permanent static things.
My name is Angela Beverly and my mothers name is Debbie Beverly she was the cook at the Hindman Settlement School for 25 years in Hindman,KY. My mother knew Morris and also has or had a dulcimer made by him until lost in a house fire recently.I also worked at the settlement school and have many wonderful memories of music,stories and people from all walks of life.
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