Judy Nelson's mention (way above) of the gathering at Judy Flenniken's place reminded me of another magical musical moment. However, this was sort of "magical" in a weird, Houdini / David Copperfield way. The Strange Case of the Vanishing Folksinger.

Judy Flenniken was one of the biggies around Seattle in the early Sixties, a young woman with a lot of enthusiasm, a large repertoire of songs, and a big, Ronnie Gilbert-size voice. I had the privilege of working with her for a couple of years. We worked out a bunch of duets and sang many engagements together, including several concerts. She graduated from the U. of W. (in Oceanography or Marine Biology, I forget which) and moved to other climes. I've seen her only once since the mid-Sixties, and that was in the late Seventies on a brief return to visit her mother. She'd got married and moved to Florida, not necessarily in that order. She was singing there somewhere (regular gig), and she and her husband were searching for sunken treasure off the Florida coast. Judy mentioned a particular ship they were looking for. If I remember correctly, it was the wreck of the Nuestro Señora de Atocha, one of a fleet of ships laden with treasure plundered from the New World and headed for Spain. Early in September 1622, the treasure fleet set out, only to run into a powerful hurricane, and several ships foundered. Among them was the Atocha, which struck a reef off the Florida Keys and sank. Judy and her husband were hot on the trail, but they were beaten to it by Mel Fisher, who found it in 1985. Lots of TV specials, including one by National Geographic about that. But that's another story. . . .

During the Seattle Worlds Fair in 1962, a whole bunch of Seattle's folksingers sang every Sunday afternoon at the United Nations Pavilion. Some student impresarios at Seattle University arranged a series of concerts at SU's Pigott Auditorium featuring folksingers who were performing at the U. N. Pavilion. The evening after I did my shtick, Judy Flenniken sang. I was in the audience with the rest of the bunch. Now, Judy Flenniken was blonde and fair-skinned. The soundboard of her guitar was sort of cream-colored. And on this particular evening, she was wore a gold lamé cocktail dress. The backdrop curtain was gold. As she sang, the guy in the lighting booth (who was trying to play around with dramatic effects) hit her with a straw-colored spotlight. Judy disappeared! Here was this big voice coming out of nowhere!. The lighting man suddenly realized what he had done, switched spots, and she reappeared again. Weird!!

After her concert, we told her what had happened, but at the time, she couldn't figure out why, during one of her songs, the audience had suddenly gasped and started murmuring to each other. That was really bizarre!

Don Firth