Storytell at the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, TN. The new storytelling center is in the background. The storytellers include (from left to right) Sandy Pomerantz, Yvonne Healy, Jean Bolley, Karen Chace, Elouise Schoettler, Jane Dorfman, Renee Conley, & Rinah Sheleff. In the back - Marilyn Kinsella, Grace Slaughter, Greg Leifel. (photo compliments of Jane Dorfman)
I wrote the following to Storytell after I returned home:
Jonesborough, 2004
Every time I enter into the folds of Jonesborough, it’s like entering into Shangri-La. Time, for three days, stands still. This year I came with a newbie, Sally. As we entered the town, I was immediately brought back to my first visit in 1981 through her eyes. We were transported into the land of story and Jonesborough was our portal. The town was decked out with the colors of autumn cascading into the streets – trees with just a blush of reddish-orange, purple mums, orange pumpkins, yellow-aged corn stalks – all highlighted by a crisp, blue sky. Doc McConnell was at the front of the storytelling center with his Medicine Wagon to hawk his wares…for what ail’s ya, and Ed Stivender, and Angela Lloyd were in front of the Old Courthouse hosting a fringe festival.
As I walked pass the sea of faces an occasional familiar one come bubbling to the surface – Meg Gilman, Greg, Karen, Rinah, Jane, Ellouise, Yvonne, Sandy, et al, all wearing their Storytell handkerchiefs as a badges of camaraderie. At the luncheon we hugged and smiled big for the pictures. “Say, ‘Storytell!’”
I stayed in the College and Library tents and let the storytellers come to me. There was a plethora of personal experience, family history, and historical stories. Folktales, I ‘spose, were mainly told in the “family stories” tent. The first day I heard all new stories. They were great – masterfully told. The second day I did hear some repeats, but not a lot. Hearing them through Sally’s newbie ears allowed me to hear them fresh and familiar. It is difficult to post all the tellers and the stories, so I’ll give you some highlights:
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Kathryn Windham, all 86 years of wit and wisdom, stepped up to bring us back to the front porch as her papa told her stories. She had us in stitches as she told about the pine coffin she purchased 16 years ago that is filled with china waiting for its permanent guest. She admonished us to go home and to tell to the young people. She told us that she wanted everyone to sing “I’ll Fly Away Home” at her funeral. Then preceded to take out a comb and wax paper and told us to go ahead and practice it as she played on her make-shift instrument. |
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Willy Clafin and Maynard Moose had us laughing and giggling through Maynard’s rendition of Lazy Jack. Willy also brought out his lobster/manager who tried to take over his act by playing Willy’s guitar. |
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Sheila Kay Adams sporting a new-do looked radiant as she brought us back to Sodom and a bevy characters from her hometown – Little Betty and Inez and Grandma to name just a few. Her ballads brought us even further back to Scotland and Ireland where murdered love ones came to life once again in song. |
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Barbara McBride-Smith told the touching story of “Star,” her lab that came into her heart and home. Sally had related about losing her dog on the way to the festival and this story filled a great void. The healing power of story took place! |
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Tinh – one of the “New Voices” filled the tent with the sounds of his guitar. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine what it would be like to live inside a music box. The music that came from that guitar was astounding. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hear him tell any stories. I think he probably makes music with his words as well. |
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Antonio Rocha moved his body into the story, every nuance blossomed from his fingertips to his toes. He has a very stylized way of telling that is full of passion with his facial expressions ranging from childlike to fierce bravado. |
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Bill Mooney’s voice, deep and theatrical, can take me to places that never before imagined. He told a touching story about his father. It was a full-circle story where he came to realize after his father’s funeral that he and his father were alike – that he did the best he could. That’s what we all strive for – to do our best given our circumstances. |
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Nancy Donoval is a fellow Illinoisan. She has been a favorite of mine for many years. She took us back to her childhood and the frightening “thing” that lurked in her closet and under her bed. I hope to same day take an intensive workshop that she offers. She is not afraid to tackle any of our shadows that lurk below the surface. |
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Syd Lieberman is another fellow Illinoisan who has graced the J’boro stage many times. This year he told a story about being the father of teenagers – a story most of us could relate to. At another session he transformed himself into Bond…James Bond, complete with a tux and a red cummerbund. But, his story ala supreme was “12 Wheels on Mars,” his commissioned story about the landing on Mars of Spirit and Opportunity (twin robot geologists) . Somehow, Syd wove a myriad of facts on a web fraught with tension as NASA waited to hear the signal. We were there with the engineers waiting until the faint signal came. |
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Bil Lepp’s attempt at fixing up an old car started out somewhere in reality and slowly, slowly it turned until we were holding our sides from laughter. He proved once again that he is the king of tall tales. All hail the king! |
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Bill Harley had new family stories to tell about his boys who are now in their teen years. He retold the “bat in the bedroom” story that once again proved that you can take a small event and make it into a major story. Masterful. |
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Donald Davis. We got there early because the tent was soon filled on Saturday morning. By this time, Sally had seen and heard many tellers, but when Donald started to tell, she was in awe of the master. I had never heard “See Rock City” so it was new to me, too. If anyone ever took a trip with their parents in the 50’s, this story would bring back a flood of memories. He took us on the proverbial roller coaster. We laughed through our tears. |
I’ve saved the highlight of the weekend for last, The Story Lady…Jackie Torrence. On Friday, I was bummed out because I didn’t hear the announcement that Jackie was in the resource tent. By the time I heard she was there, she was gone. I asked everyone, if they saw her. Finally, I saw Len Cabral and asked him – “Sure, she’s in the church.” What started as a disappointment quickly turned into a blessing because I got to spend a full hour with Jackie. We caught up on the last many years by mainly swapping stories about grandchildren. But the biggest treat of all was to happen the next evening…
We had heard through the grapevine that Jackie would not be performing…that the previous day had worn her out. Then, the announcement came – 6:00 in the College Tent. Hoo-hah. I already had my place staked out and Sally came to join me. The Devine Ms Klein (Susan) gave an eloquent introduction, the tent flaps parted and Jackie appeared. She wore a striking red and orange pantsuit and she looked as radiant as the sun as she slowly made her ascent to the stage. Thunderous applause!
After she wiped away the tears, she told us how much she missed us and that she’s been working on new stories, but today she was going to tell two of her favorites. Thunderous applause! We settled in to bask in the light of her stories. She told about her beginnings and how she came to live with her Grandma. Then, she went into a story about the time she rode her tricycle without a stitch of clothing until her Grandmother saw her and cried out “Jesus Wept!” She told about her Aunt Sally and how she longed to be a hussy (pronounce hezzie) – just like her. She told us that our sins come back on us through our grandchildren. That’s their job! Little Bishop shows up as “Naked Man!” and… “Jesus Wept!”
Thunderous applause! Next we were treated to the Snuff Box. All our senses quickened as snuff filled our noses, our eyes, our ears, and our mouths.
It was then I that I realized one of Jackie’s many gifts during a story. She milks the moment! Her face let’s us hold onto the image longer than any other storyteller I have ever seen. All of her aches and pains had seemingly disappeared - she put such energy and heart into her stories. Time was rapidly slipping by. We wanted more. We clapped, we chanted, we cried…but slowly our radiant sun slipped away. The tent flap closed and Jackie was gone. It is an experience that I will never forget. I was so happy that Sally got to see and hear Jackie.
We couldn’t stay for Sunday, so we left on Saturday night where Jonesborough had now transformed itself into a Thomas Kincaid picture – lampposts casting a golden glow, strands of music lacing the cool autumn air, and the heavy scent of stories told lingering on every face.
As the mist parted, we left our Shangri-La. We were back on I-64 headed home, but the stories…the stories filled the time until we safely reached our doorstep and stepped back into reality.
