I only saw one minstrel show, and am perfectly happy not to see another. But that one show furnished quite a memory, full of tension and uncertainty.

In about the mid-1940s, as a kid of maybe eight or nine, I was taken together with several other neighborhood kids to a small theater in (I think) Sellersville, PA, some ten miles from my home, to see a minstrel show.

It was gotten up by the local Lions Club or similar fraternal organization, and featured several local men, one of whom lived up the road from us. As far as I can recall, it was of the standard sort: two "end men," jokes, sketches, and songs. I presume they learned their material out of one or more of the numerous instruction booklets then available which included tried-and-true songs, patter, and sketches for use in putting on amateur minstrel shows.

The only song I distinctly remember hearing was "The Levee Song," on which I started a thread today. I think they also sang "Golden Slippers." Anything else is lost in the mists of time.

What made the show memorable was my reaction to it. While I was bemused by the jangly fun of the music, I was terrified by the black faces and did not know what they were meant to convey. I did not connect them to the various people of color I had seen; to me they seemed wholly alien, like dark clowns. The abrupt loud stagey bass and treble voices typical of minstrel performance also jarred me.

The whole thing left me thoroughly confused. It was all the more strange since the one performer I knew, a Mr. Yoder, seemed transformed in some sinister way. I had never seen him act like that and found it all fearful.

I don't know how the other kids reacted. I can't remember anyone saying much of anything on the ride home.

We were pretty simple in those days, and lived on a dirt road far out in the country. At the time I had never seen a movie, had only heard a radio, and the minstrel show, which I think was a fundraiser, came as a real shock. But this was mixed with pleasure in the music, which I sort of liked, though the style was too absurdly bravura for me to warm up to.

Well, only a memory fragment, and as you can see I don't remember much, having been so young. I'd be very interested to see anyone else's minstrel show memories. At this point few remain who can testify to this lost bit of history.

Bob