Senator Joseph McCarthy. O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh boy. . . .

The following are excerpts from the "reminiscences" that I am writing. I have condensed it a bit to include just matters that are particularly relevant to this thread.

      [Sometime in 1953, habitués of The Chalet restaurant such as] Ken Prichard, Bob Clark, Walt Robertson, Ric Higlin, several other people and I decided that what this area needed was a folk song or folklore society….
      "The Pacific Northwest Folklore Society" became the working title. Considering the size of the area and the variety of material it included, it was biting off much more than we could chew, but we planned on growing. One of the Folklore Society's functions would be to cover the academic side, particularly collecting and cataloging material. Another function would be to present concerts, workshops, and other public events. This way, we could raise the money necessary to at least jump-start the society.
      The East 42nd Street Arts Association came into existence at about the same time. It was made up mostly of the same people. One of the many ideas here was to initiate an annual arts festival to take place on some convenient weekend. Memorial Day, perhaps; or Labor Day.
      The Pacific Northwest Folklore Society and The East 42nd Street Arts Association decided to hold a joint inaugural event. With the cooperation of the local merchants and with all the necessary permits from the city, N. E. 42nd Street between University Way and 15th Avenue N. E. was barricaded off. Movable partitions were brought in upon which paintings could be hung. As I recall, the festival was wide open. Anybody could display anything. People set up card tables, or improvised tables with boxes and boards, or just sat on the sidewalk as in a Middle Eastern bazaar, and displayed their crafts – jewelry, weaving, pottery, whatever.
      Janice Tennant, while attending the Yew Dub, was involved in Methodist student activities at Wesley House, which was located just across N. E. 42nd Street from The Chalet. Janice frequented The Chalet. I don't recall that she ever played or sang, but she was an avid folk music enthusiast and often helped with arrangements to use Wesley House facilities for Folklore Society and Arts Association events.
      Somewhat more formal exhibitions of paintings, crafts, and such were set up in the auditorium in the lower level of Wesley House. These exhibits were cleared away in time for the evening concerts.
      The concert series included concerts by Walt Robertson, a program of Northwest Indian dances performed by Bill Holm and his wife, Marty (Marty, as I recall, was Native American), and if memory serves me correctly, there were programs by the Scandia Folk Dance Club and Dance Circle, a local group interested in Balkan Dancing. This was the first of several such festivals.

So we were off to a pretty good start. But . . . from a chapter I have entitled "Spirit of the Times," the following happened.

      In fall of 1954 a major folk music event took place in Seattle. For the Pacific Northwest Folklore Society it proved to be more than a major event.
      Pete Seeger came to Seattle to give a concert.
      Under the aegis of the Folklore Society, Walt Robertson made the necessary arrangements and obtained the use of the basement auditorium of Wesley House, where several earlier Folklore Society events had been held.
      [The] afternoon before the concert, Dick Landberg and I were sitting in Howard's Restaurant when a Folklore Society member joined us. He was upset, and he seemed almost furtive. . . .
      "Seeger's been up before the House Un-American Activities Committee," [he informed us.]
      "Look," he said, leaning forward and practically whispering, "I'm studying aeronautical engineering. I plan to work for Boeing when I graduate. Now, that's probably going to involve my being able to get a security clearance. So I'm not going to Seeger's concert. And I want my name taken off the Folklore Society's mailing list!"
      This may seem bizarre and paranoid to us now. Yet, during the early Fifties, mention of the House Un-American Activities Committee evoked emotions similar to those that must have been evoked in the 15th and 16th centuries at the mention of the Spanish Inquisition. Many people glanced apprehensively over their shoulders, shuddered, and crossed themselves.
      There was not much Dick and I could do about it but pass the word to whoever maintained the mailing list. We talked it over and decided that this was probably an overreaction. No way were we going to miss Seeger's concert.

I go on to describe Pete's concert. This was the first time I'd ever seen him live, and both Dick Landberg and I—and an audience that packed the auditorium—found the concert completely enthralling. He sang some work songs among many others, but I heard nothing that I would consider any kind of anti-American propaganda (if singing a song or two—among many other songs—expressing some concern for the welfare of the poor working stiff is anti-American, that so be it). After the concert, Pete was game to keep going. He wanted to meet the local singers, so we adjourned to a nearby house and the party went on until four o'clock in the morning, ending with six of us, including Pete, sitting cross-legged on the floor, passing a guitar around, and swapping songs. Then…]

      The aftermath of this event was less felicitous. The dark side manifested itself in a particularly sinister way. . . .

The Pacific Northwest Folklore Society's membership and mailing lists practically imploded.

      . . . Seeger had been called up before the House Un-American Activities Committee and he and The Weavers had been blacklisted. Despite that, the first major performer the Pacific Northwest Folklore Society sponsors is Seeger. Never mind that the Folklore Society consisted of a loose-knit group of people, most of whom were apolitical and some even fairly conservative, who simply liked folk music and wanted to hear Pete Seeger sing. Truth? What did that have to do with it? What mattered was what it made the Pacific Northwest Folklore Society look like.
      It was Kafkaesque. Furtive calls came in from people who almost cringingly insisted that their names be dissociated from the Folklore Society. It was like cattle stampeding in panic. By the end of week the membership list had dwindled to less than a dozen names.
      After what seemed to be such an auspicious beginning, the Pacific Northwest Folklore Society ceased to exist.
      They might not burn heretics at the stake anymore as they did in times past, but it appeared that the spirit of the Spanish Inquisition lived on in Senator Joseph McCarthy and the House Un-American Activities Committee.
      To be suspected was to be condemned.

I always found it very interesting that the same people founded both the Pacific Northwest Folklore Society and the East 42nd Street Arts Association and both organizations were headquartered out of The Chalet restaurant. Yet people who wanted their names removed from the folklore society's membership and mailing lists were unconcerned about their names being on the arts associations lists. The East 42nd Street Arts Association was considered clean and untainted, and it continued to exist and function unhampered and unaccused. Most curious.

There is more. Much more. But that's enough for the moment.

Don Firth