Traveling around the folk music circles, you get to hear old stories and a little history – passed down as part of the “folk process.” But this letter is not about folk music per se. Rather, I use folk music as an analog to talk about what I call “The Wisdom Catchers.”
Here’s How I Heard It
Until sometime in the 1800s, pretty much the only way to hear music was to experience it live. Although there had been rudimentary versions of music boxes for a couple of hundred years, there were no phonographs, records, or radio. And there certainly was no internet.
It wasn’t uncommon that when a troubadour came to town, people would drop whatever they were doing and run to the square to hear the music. House concerts – music recitals in somebody’s house - were also a common occurrence. In those days, people learned songs most often by hearing them played live, over and over. Some went on to learn how to play the songs themselves and, thus, helped pass them down through the generations.
Troubadours usually traveled only regionally and had different repertoires of songs from other troubadours. So, the songs that were sung, learned, and passed on in one community were usually different from those sung, learned, and passed on in other communities. Or they were different versions of the same songs – with a local twist.
Within each community, there was a limited number of songs to experience. But, nationally, if you added up all of the different songs sung by all of the different communities, the number would be quite large.
Enter the Player Piano
Then, in the 1890s, along came the player piano – a self-playing piano that “operated the piano action via programmed music recorded on perforated paper or metallic rolls.” (Thank you, Wikipedia.) If there was a player piano in town, people could hear music without there having to be a live performer to present it. This made troubadours and live performances less vital to the learning of songs.
But, as you can imagine, only a tiny percentage of all the songs in existence were programmed into player pianos. So, as people learned more and more songs from the player piano and fewer and fewer from the troubadours, individuals may have been exposed to a greater number of songs, but on a national level, many obscure versions of songs, and entire songs themselves began to disappear. Soon, thousands of songs were being “forgotten.”
Song Remembers
When the phonograph, radio, and other forms of recorded music became available, the extinction of songs sped up. Fortunately, in response to this, a breed of musicians known as “song remembers” popped up and gained a modicum of popularity. (Among them were Huddy Ledbetter – a.k.a. “Lead Belly” – and thousands of others.)
Song Catchers
Adding to that fortune, before long, portable recording devices were invented. Soon, “Song Catchers” were traveling to remote parts of the country to record songs that were in danger of becoming forgotten.
Among the song catchers were Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, John and Alan Lomax, and eventually a whole generation of “folk” musicians in the early years of the “folk revival.”
Pete Seeger stands out as a model Song Catcher. He learned, recorded, and shared thousands of songs that otherwise, almost certainly, would have faded into oblivion. On top of that, he also wrote hundreds of songs himself, including many classics.
Wisdom Catchers
But Pete also had an uncanny ability to recognize a good piece of wisdom when he heard it. Just as with a good song, he learned it, adapted it to current circumstances, and passed it along so that others could benefit. Even further, to the best of my observation, Pete lived the wisdom he dared to speak.
Pete saw great songs and great pearls of wisdom in similar ways. Both were tools that could be used to strengthen communities.
Among the other well-known Wisdom Catchers are Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr., and Abraham Lincoln. But I have met many lesser-known Wisdom Catchers as well.
Lesser-Known Wisdom Catchers
My friend Dudley was a walking, talking lexicon of wisdom. How he became so tuned in, to many, was a mystery. But I have a hunch I will share some time. Still, somehow, Dudley rarely took his own words to heart. I learned many lessons from his insights. How I wish he had learned from them, too.
Then there was this fellow, well over 100 years old, who my friend Toddy Brewer and I passed almost every day walking to school. The old man had one tooth and we knew him only as “The Tooth.” He stopped us many a time to share a quip of wisdom.
Paul Mugwart is a guy I ran into at the San Francisco Airport in 1986. He had a shaved head, wore a saffron robe, and handed out flowers. It turns out he has nothing to do with the Hari Krishnas or any other particular religion. But he was and still is certainly on a mission. And there are others.
Wisdom on Wisdom
Paul Mugwart once told me, “A wise person does not invent every piece of wisdom he or she shares - most of the wisdom comes from someone else who had earlier shared the gem with them. What makes a person wise is their recognition of wisdom and their skill at sharing it with the right people, in the right place, at the right time.”
And there are others. The Wisdom Catchers are all around. One may be waiting to meet you - or me. So, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to keep our eyes and ears open looking out for them.
Until next time …
Keep the Flame Alive!