The first gatherings of folk singers that I attended in the early 1950s—not a "folk club" or "song circle" or anything of that nature—were simply parties to which people brought their guitars of various kinds, a banjo or two, maybe an autoharp, or just themselves and their voices. We sat on the sofa, on chairs, cross-legged on the floor, and sang, in no particular order, often solo, sometimes people joining in on choruses if appropriate.

One fellow had a weekly television show and know several hundred songs. The rest of us might know a couple dozen songs, or just a couple, or were there to try out the one song they had just learned.

There were no song books or crib sheets there. It was automatically assumed that one know a song from memory before trying to field it. We didn't even talk about it. As I said, it was automatically assumed.

The first time a song book appeared at one of these gatherings was sometime in the late 1970s, a copy of The Folksinger's Wordbook--no music, but the words to about 1,000 folk songs. Two brothers, who often attended these parties as listeners, never singing, sat there with their heads together and sang—hesitantly and stumblingly—out of the book. I don't think there was anything wrong with their ability to memorize. They were both successful attorneys. They wanted to join in the singing, but didn't bother to learn the songs.

And then, a few years later, a "Song Circle" got organized locally. We sat around in a circle and sang in order, just to make sure everybody got a chance. Worked fine for a few years, then., Rise Up Singing began putting in an appearance.   More and more people—newcomers— were singing out of the book—NOT bothering to learn the songs as we all had done. Then pretty soon, everybody was singing together out of the "Song Circle hymnal."

Many of us, like Bob Nelson, John Dwyer, Stan James, and other "old timers" stopped going to Song Circle. Thirty people, sitting around singing—hesitantly and stumblingly—"Barbara Allen" or "The Rhyme of the Chivalrous Shark" with their noses in "The Book" was a bit of a turn-off for us.

Nothing "prissy" or "elitist" about it!

But we didn't stop singing for each other, or for others who were not enthralled with this kind of group singing. We got together on our own and sang anything we felt like, solo or together as we were inspired to do by the nature of the song and the spirit of the moment, whether it was in Rise Up Singing or not. Just as we had done initially.

Which was how those of us who went on to sing professionally had learned our trade.

No "Tyranny of the Hymnal."

A song, especially a ballad, is not just the recitation of a string of words. It involves KNOWING what the song is all about. The words are just the starting point.

Don Firth