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Eulogy for Tom

For those of you who knew Tom well, it should come as no surprise that he left very specific and detailed instructions to the conduct of his funeral; in three single-spaced typewritten pages, Tom covered everything from boutonnieres to backhoes. We have done our best to adhere to his wishes, but I can’t help but feel that he’s somewhere taking notes on our shortcomings.

I’m sure we’ll all catch hell for it one of these days.

Tom wanted words from the heart, but he qualified those as well, wanting me to speak about what set him apart from what he called “the rest of the human herd”. This is why I began by mentioning his exhaustive instructions for this ceremony, because they serve to illustrate the most essential element of Tom’s nature.

Tom Yancy was a perfectionist in an imperfect world. Somewhere along the way, he decided that whoever was in charge of the production was fucking everything up, so he set about putting things right. From his father, Tom inherited a passion for order; from his mother, an accentuated sense of propriety. These were his primary resources in a war against a world filled with sloppy architecture, bad beauty show contestants and other violations against his impeccable and justifiable standards. His epic indignation was a bar by which I and others set our own standards against the dictates of reality .

Tom declared–I don’t think Tom ever really “said” anything–that I read a selection of literary passages, but these three pages of addenda (for that is what they were) have been lost in a tragic act of negligence on my part, so I’ve elected to read a passage by Tom’s favorite author, Eudora Welty. Tom loved Welty because, like him, she was interested in the foibles and eccentricities of people, the quirks of character that make us stand out in what Tom called a herd of humanity of which he was an errant, beguiling shepherd.

“The funeral was what you’d expect if you’d ever seen Polk—crowded. It was hot as fluzions in that little front room. A lot of Jacob’s-Ladder tops and althea blooms sewed on cardboard crosses, and a saliva wreath with a bee in it. A lot of ferns hauled out of creek bottoms and drooping by the time they got ready for them. People, people, people, flowers, flowers, flowers, and the shades hauled down and the electricity burning itself up, and two preachers both red-headed; but mainly I felt there were Peacocks. Mrs. Peacock was big and fat as a row of pigs, and wore tennis shoes to her daughter’s funeral—I guess she couldn’t help it.”

Like Welty, Tom enjoyed telling stories about people; but like his father he also loved to hear stories about himself. I implore you all to go from here and tell your tales of this wonderful, wonderful man.

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Beanland: Rising from the Riverbed

With Beanland: Rising from the Riverbed, Scotty Glahn and Kutcher Miller have distilled the essence not only of a hot jam band but of a special milieu. beanland_imageArt fares best in an open forum, and in the 80s and early 90s no freer field could be found than in Oxford, Mississippi, where a variety of thriving businesses supported an eclectic marketplace for invention that Mississippi will never see the likes of again. In those halcyon days, Willie Morris, Barry Hannah and Larry Brown contributed their literary wattage to an arts scene already illuminated the bright musical lights of the Hilltops/Blue Mountain, the North Mississippi Allstars and, of course, Beanland. It was a heyday of the muses; throw in a couple of Jere Allen’s brilliant brushstrokes, and you have nothing short of a red clay Parnassus.

Rising from the Riverbed attempts to and largely succeeds in capturing the freewheeling, lackadaisical and somewhat dissipated spirit of that time and place. This achievement proves to be somewhat of a drawback, however, since the result is a roman à clef best appreciated by those who were there then and know or knew members of the cast of characters. It’s an insider’s view into a seminal period in the cultural life of Oxford. Interviews add to the film’s appeal (Barton made the cut). Nostalgia is not a bad thing, especially when it’s worked out so carefully and lovingly. Allow me to tip my hat to Glahn and Miller not only for recognizing Beanland as worthy of a broader stage, but also their foresight in documenting a very special time in a very special place.

http://risingfromtheriverbed.com

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Saving Trumpet Records

309 Farish Street, the home of Trumpet Records, is a ruin.

Trumpet Records was the first record company in Mississippi to achieve national stature. The premiere releases by Mississippi blues legends Sonny Boy Williamson II, Elmore James and Willie Love appeared on Trumpet in 1951. Early Mississippi gospel and country artists also appeared on the Trumpet label.

The impact of Trumpet Records on American music has been profound and lasting, but the site of the studio is rapidly decaying. The building that housed this jewel in the crown of Mississippi music has not only lost its luster, but it’s become a dilapidated shell. While the roof and walls are intact, they’re barren and pitted, covered with patches of peeling paint and without windows, open to the erosive elements of weather.

Musician Sherman Lee Dillon is the driving force behind a group of people who seek to preserve and restore the building with an eye to commemorating Trumpet Records and its music. “What we’re trying to do is ensure that the old building where these legends laid down some the most famous tracks in Mississippi music is preserved. Maybe we can even to get some momentum going towards the restoration of Farish Street itself.”

Dillon notes that the 30-year efforts to restore the Farish Street District by massive infusions of public funding have stalled. “We think it’s worthwhile to give private initiative a chance.”

To that end, Dillon and his group have secured a lease on 309 North Farish Street, one of the few privately-owned properties in the Farish Street Historical District. Dillon said that he asked the owners not to lease or sell 309 Farish until he had an opportunity to restore it.

Sherman Lee Dillon
Sherman Lee Dillon

“They have stuck to their word for three years and not seriously entertained any other offers,” he said. “But I have not been able to find any pockets to get money from, and I am in not in a situation for matching funds. The city does nothing to support the project, even though the mayor drops by from time to time.  I can’t wait any longer. If I can’t get the money to restore it, Trumpet Records goes on the block.”

Dillon said that once the building is secured, he will work on creating a nonprofit business, a museum and a recording studio. “I am personal friends with musicians who have played with several Mississippi blues people, Johnny Taylor, Milton, Bobby Rush, Dorothy Moore, BB King and Albert King.” Dillon points out that while Trumpet had some national recognition, their recordings of local celebrities might be one of the most interesting aspects of the proposed museum.

“There are collections of ‘The Hillbilly Sides’, spirituals recordings, rock-a-billy recordings as well as blues recordings that connect to people still living in the area,” he said. “The singers and artists that didn’t quite have the combination to go national, are often the most fun,” he said. “These songs would be on a jukebox for people to sample and pictures of them people would be on the wall.”

“The problem is that there’s no money for restoration,” Dillon said. “The agreement I have with the owners is for two years’ rent, $48,000, paid in advance within 30 days. That money will be used exclusively for the restoration of 309. Any money that comes from the operation of 309 for the next two years will be to further the services of the restoration.

“All I can say is that if this doesn’t work, a golden opportunity has been missed.”

Details available at Save Trumpet Records