Subject: Lyr Add: CASEY JONES
From:
Stewie
Date: 22 Apr 00 - 02:54 AM
I tracked down Norm Cohen's article in Western Folklore - 'Casey Jones: At the Crossroads of Two Ballad Traditions'. It is great reading. I don't know how much it overlaps with his material in 'Long Steel Rail' - like others, I am eagerly awaiting the imminent second edition of that tome. However, I commend the article to all interested in the song - I gave the details in an above posting.
Cohen's argument is too detailed and complex to go into here, but there are 2 quotation in that I will post because I believe they will be of interest. The first is the text of the first published song about Casey Jones. It was published in 1908 in 'The Railroad Man's Magazine' with the note: 'Jones was an engineer on the IC, between Memphis and Canton, Mississippi, and was killed in a wreck several years ago. The song was supposed to have been sung by his negro fireman'. This version predated the vaudeville pop song by a year:
CASEY JONES
Come all you rounders, for I want you to hear
The story told of an engineer
Casey Jones was the rounder's name;
A heavy right-wheeler of a mighty fame
Caller called Jones about half past four;
He kissed his wife at the station door,
Climbed into the cab with his orders in his hand
Says, 'This is my trip to the holy land'
Through South Memphis yards, on the fly,
He heard the fire-boy say, "You've got a white eye."
All the switchmen knew, by the engine moan,
That the man at the throttle was Casey Jones.
It had been raining some five or six weeks,
The railroad track was like the bed of a creek;
They rated him down to a thirty-mile gait,
Threw the south-bound mail about eight hours late.
Fireman says, "Casey, you're running too fast,
You run the block-board the last station you passed."
Jones says, "Yes, 1 believe we'll make it through,
For she steams better than 1 ever knew."
Jones says, "Fireman, don't you fret;
Keep knocking at the fire-door, don't give up yet.
I'm going to run her till she leaves the rail,
Or make it in on time with the Southern mail."
Around the curve and down the dump
Two locomotives were bound to bump.
Fireman hollered, "Jones, it's just ahead;
We might jump and make it, but we'll all be dead."
'Twas round the curve he spied a passenger train
Reversing his engine, he caused the bell to ring
Fireman jumped off, but Jones stayed on
He's a good engineer, but he's dead and gone
Poor Casey Jones was all right,
For he stuck to his duty both day and night.
They loved to hear his whistle aqd ring of number three,
As he came into Memphis on the old 1. G.
Headaches and heartaches, and all kinds of pain,
Are not apart from a railroad train.
Tales that are in earnest, noble and grand,
Belong to the life of a railroad man.
The other part of the article that I will post is a wonderful letter that Cohen quotes from a hobo who went by the name of Kelly the Rake. Kelly wrote to the 'Kansas City Star' on 5 August 1911 in response to some letters and articles that had been printed in the paper about Casey Jones. Kelly wrote:
In the beginning I would say that after a sudden and unsought for exit from college when I was 16, and the ensuing wrath of my paternal ancestor, I took to the road and since have sought adventure in the realms of the unemployed. In this connection 1 am enabled to give authoritative and authentic information about this mythical Casey Jones, inasmuch as 1 was one of the progenitors of the original song.
Jay Gould, for reasons of economy, removed the platforms from the Missouri Pacific mail and baggage cars, thus eliminating a safe and comfortable means of transportation for "bos." A pal of mine, one Herkimer Hank, and myself were incited to some wrath by this action which resulted in the following effusion:
Old Jay Gould said before he died
I'll fix the blind so the 'bos can't ride
If they ride, they will ride a rod
And place their life in the hands of God
This verse called for more so we added the following:
Old Jay Gould said, as he was about to die,
There's two more railroads I'd like to buy.
We were wondering what they could be
He said, the New York Central and the Santa Fe.
These verses were afterward added one by one. My repertoire holds about fifty verses about old Jay Gould.
And now for the Casey Jones part. Some years ago on the Rock Island between Herington and Kansas City was a freight engineer who was always good for a ride if we would heave coal. He said his name was James A. Michaels, and he was so known. He was a reckless runner, and verses began to be made to the tune of old Jay Gould. Here are six of them:
Songs are sung about the heroes of old,
I'll tell you of one that skins them cold.
James A. Michaels was the eagle eye's name,
And when he died he died dead game.
James A. Michaels was a brave engineer;
He told the tallow pot not to fear.
Says he, all you got to do is to keep her hot,
And we'll make it in about four o'clock.
Just grab the shovel and heave the coal;
Put your head out the window and watch the drivers roll
Then he looked at his watch and mumbled and said,
We may make it, but we'll all he dead.
They pulled out of - - - about forty minutes late,
Dragging behind thirty-six cars of freight.
The conductor didn't keep any tab,
'Cause James A. Michaels was in the cab.
But when they got to the whistling post,
James turned as pale as any old ghost.
He had the tallow pot out on top,
Helping the brakies to make the stop.
The Cannon Ball come splitting the air
He threw her over and unloaded right there.
He yelled to the fireman, You'd better jump,
'Cause two locomotives is about to bump.
On the railroads, an engineer is an eagle eye, a fireman a tallow pot. These are verses chosen at random from among probably three hundred verses that I know.
I believe the way the Casey Jones song started was thus: A small coterie of us were flopped under a bean tree in Arizona some time ago. A guy asks if we would write some of it out. We did, and he said he was going to publish it. I think this is the real origin of the song.
Yours respectfully, Kelly the Rake In Camp, Near Porum, Ok, Aug 2, 1911.
Cohen also quotes an interesting text from Haywire Mac.
Cheers, Stewie.
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