Tales of Walt Robertson

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: SINSULL
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 08:43 PM

Feel like a "fly on the wall". Hope this goes on forever.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 09:21 PM

I feel like Bob, Sandy, ellenpoly and Don are sitting at a nearby table holding this fascinating conversation, while Katlaughing, Spaw, Sinsull, Ivan and I pause over our pints to grin and listen. Another round please, of ale and stories, and I'll raise my glass to that twelve-string troubador Mr Robertson.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 09:48 PM

Well, there was Pat, Mary Anne, Nancy, Diana, Jane, Helen, Gale, another Jane, Carol, Luanne, Tedi --

I'd better quit here. Barbara may read this.

But I take your meaning, Bob. I've always found that reminiscing along those lines tends to muddle my concentration on . . . what was I trying to concentrate on?

Don Firth

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 10:06 PM

... you forgot Ellen ... shame on you!

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Bill D
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 10:26 PM

........fascinated...been reading for days. Thought I knew at least the names of most of the seminal figures....but Walt escaped me...ah, well,a boy from Wichita didn't get to meet many......

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: GUEST,bflat
Date: 08 Feb 01 - 11:03 PM

To All, This has been one of the most interesting and pleasurable threads. Just want you to know that I feel enriched by your written recollections.

From another, Ellen

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Rick Fielding
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 01:06 AM

Keep on a goin' folks.

Rick

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: GUEST,ellenpoly
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 07:30 AM

just to let you know that walt kept his "activist" hand in even when he moved to hawaii.we were doing a show together(i was directing,he was acting)called "witness for the prosecution",and were informed by the management that one of our shows was not to be performed for the public,but had been sold to a private group (which turned out to be a fund raiser for a local republican senator). the cast was incensed at not having been told this earlier,and decided to protest.guess whose name was at the top of the list?? the management made the mistake of ignoring our complaint,which led to a threatened stike,led by..guess who? the outcome was a bit of a mexican stand-off.we did the show,but only when we were allowed to put a disclaimer out in front of the theatre saying that the cast and crew did not in any way support this candidate.walt sniffily agreed to perform...but in after-years helped me and various other members of the community whenever "injustice" reared it's head!

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: SINSULL
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 08:46 AM

I have printed this thread out. Wonder if I will have wonderful tales to tell of the time in New Hampshire when so and so showed up at Barry's. Or the time so and so did a concert on Paltalk long before he or she even dreamed of a career. Now I'll go back to being a fly on the wall. Sorry for the interruption. Please continue. Please?

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: GUEST,John Hardly
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 09:52 AM

This has been the most enjoyable thread I've read since I found the mudcat. Thanks for taking the time to create it, and thanks, kat, for bringing it to my attention

JH

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 03:46 PM

About two or three weeks before Bob (Deckman) Nelson started this thread, I posted the following comment on BS: Singing Absent-Mindedly. I though it might be appropriate to re-post it here:

------------------------------------------------------

One place where you don't want to go absent-minded is during a concert, especially if it's a solo gig and you are the one on stage. My friend and mentor from yesteryear, the late Walt Robertson (American Northwest Ballads on Folkways) told me about the time he sang The Fox, the more-or-less standard, Burl Ives version, in front of an audience of about 200 people. He had sung the song umpteen times before and could practically sing it in his sleep, which was sort of the problem. The second verse starts out

He ran 'til he came to a great big pen

and the sixth verse begins

He ran 'til he came to his cozy den

Walt launched into the song, immediately dozed off, then came awake as he was singing "He ran 'til he came to--" and suddenly realized that he didn't know where in the hell he was in the song! He stopped singing, confessed to the audience, and they told him where he was (some of them knew the song), so he picked it up and finished. Fortunately, the audience thought it was pretty funny. "There, I was," Walt told me, "with the words all dangling down-o!"

I pulled a similar one a few years after. I was introducing The Flying Dutchman with a long dissertation on the ferocity of storms off the Cape of Good Hope, details of the legend, and even went so far as to allude to Wagner's opera ("I could tell he was a folksinger, because he talked for ten minutes and then sang for three"). I got so caught up in my own mellifluous verbiage that when I finally got around to singing the song, I played my guitar intro, then sat there with my mouth open. Nothing would come out. I had completely blanked out on the words. Fortunately, here too, the audience saw the humor in it, and I didn't get lynched.

I guess the moral of the story is, if we aren't paying attention, why should anyone else?

Don Firth

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 04:12 PM

Hi Don ... I'll dare to speak for everyone and remind you that you said you would share some of Walt's "performance secrets" with us. He was such a secret person, in so many ways, that you must know that I am looking forward to what he divulged! .. CHEERS, Bob (ain't this fun!)

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 04:16 PM

By the way, as I posted my last message, I noticed that it came up on the mudcat screen DIRECTLY ABOVE (?) the thread titled "female orgasm by remote controll!" ... words fail me, but I KNOW Walt is enjoying the heck out of this!

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: katlaughing
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 08:28 PM

LOL...good observation, Bob!! Keep it going guys...this is SO great!!

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 09:03 PM

I have been losing sleep pondering if I should share this next piece of information. It comes from a letter that Walt wrote me on Feb. 1st, 1984. He was living on the beach in Tonga, and I mentioned before, he did not expect to return ... he had serious health problems. He wrote this letter to me at something of a 'low' moment.' I would like to think that the writing of this helped him to rise above it. Here he speaks to the grand times we all had in our hundreds of wonderful hoots. He speaks of those particuliar singers he would like to hear again, and even to which songs he would wish them to sing. I've decided to include this as it speaks not just to Walt and the kind of person he was, but also to the community of wonderful friends he treasured. This was written 10 years BEFORE his death. It's very personal and I will edite it as I wish ... "... songs I'd like to hear ... Bob, La Llorona (surprised?); Don (Firth), "Bonnie Dundee"; George (Austin) "Ramblin' Boy" and "Minstrel Show"; Sally (Ashford) "Who will Sing For me" if she can, if not Bob, will you do it?; Gary (Oberbillig) "Syree Peaks"; Patti (DiLudovico) "Come A Landsman"; Stan (James) "Handsome Cabin Boy"; Richard (Gibbons) "Sully's Pail", Nancy (Quense) "something French"; Larry (Hanks) "Moon Man"; Utah (Phillips) "I Have Led A Good Life" (his version"; Guy (Carawan) "Old Blue" (if guy isn't handy, you do it Bob, Don (Firth) "MacPherson's Lament; ..... let there be plenty of cheap red wine, and let there be a joyful noise. Still let the amenities and courtesies of the old hoots prevail. Honor each other and let the music honor all ..."

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 09 Feb 01 - 09:42 PM

"... let there be plenty of cheap red wine, and let there be a joyful noise. Still let the amenities and courtesies of the old hoots prevail. Honor each other and let the music honor all ..."

Man, that says it. Thanks, Bob, for posting that.

On the performance secrets, I'll be posting that real soon now, as soon as I get it in shape. That may be a couple of days. I've got a heck of a busy weekend coming up, but I'll be checking in often for quick notes, anyway.

Don Firth

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 10 Feb 01 - 03:13 PM

REFRESH

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Idaho 50
Date: 10 Feb 01 - 05:04 PM

In the close to five decades we knew Walt,he came and went, lead separate lives in each place, with no connections. It was astonishing to us how some people NEVER KNEW he played guitar at all, much less how masterfully. And others never knew of his newspaper and writing life, etc. He kept his life in separate compartments and was very secretive. It was gratifying to see how well he brought his life together so completely as he came down tothe wire. The barriers were dropping, old angers were resolving, and he brought together people with each other from his many separate lives. We saw a new gentleness and restraint hithertofore uncharacteristic. With an amazing swiftness, he was putting it all together while preparing for his departure from this world.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: katlaughing
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 12:15 AM

Don't stop, please!? Tell us more.....:-)

Thanks,

kat

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 01:44 AM

Fear not, kat. Too inundated this weekend to write much, but there is definitely more to come. Bless you.

Don Firth

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Idaho 50
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 04:05 AM

Kat/katlaughing, Rick, Sinsull and others in the cheering section: what do you want more of? Reminiscences of his music/songs, his style, his personality, his musings or amusings?

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: katlaughing
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 04:32 AM

Any and all that you feel like writing. You all have such wonderful ways of recounting it; it has all flowed so well, truly an inspiration and definitely one of the best threads we've ever had at the Mudcat!

I don't mean to be pressuring you phoaks and I know you have lives to lead elsewhere, but to us this is precious stuff, to be nurtured, read, and reread, passed on, maybe even aged a bit in a cask of time, to be polished up and reread again to some youngster or our own aged selves as a special memory.

Thank you, thank you...at your pleasure...kat

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 10:07 AM

As you might imagine, after having years of adventures involving Walt, my memory tends to jump to specific images ... like the night he showed up at our apartment driving his 1935 black Packard hearse with actors and actresses hanging out all the windows. That was in 1959 and Don Firth and I were living in the San Francisco area, attempting to make our fame and fortune as folksingers. I don't recall that we made much fortune, but we sure had some famous adventures!

Walt had followed us down to the CITY, fearing he might miss out on something. Our lives were pretty much a mix of little gigs in Sausilito, San Francisco and Berkely, with the occasional college concert somewhere. Walt's main activity was in trying to break into the theater in San Francisco, not an easy task.

On this particuliar night, Walt had somehow scored in invitation to the dressing room of the roadshow of "Westside Story", starring Carol Lawrence. (Walt was very good at scoring ... invitations like this). From this introduction at the dressing room, Walt got himself ("hisself", as he would say) invited to the cast party, and as his hearse was of sufficient size, he filled the car with the most amazing bevy of beauties, of all shapes and sexes. He HAD to swing by our place on the way, mainly I think, to show off his catch. When I think of that night, I still see the image of Walt as he climbed from behind the wheel of his hearse, grinning from ear to ear, with an expression that said, "can you top this!"

Don and I did go to that party. I won't elaborate more, except to say that Walt didn't surface again for three days. (note to Don ... as resident historian, I give you full permmision to correct any details you may wish.)

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Rick Fielding
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 11:41 AM

Hi there Idaho. You're right, we ARE the cheering section. One of the things that make these stories fascinating for me, are that they flesh out a person who appears to have absolutely REFUSED TO BE AVERAGE. That's a difficult road to hoe in any era. Usually it means that you're often broke.....but oh boy, do the rest of the riches flow.

Thanks again to you yarn spinners.

Rick

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 02:23 PM

Hi Rick ... those are very perceptive observations, and well said. Walt absolutly refused to be average, and he had the most amazing and subtle ways of drawing attention to himself. I've often felt that he viewed life as something of an ongoing contest between himself and the masses. He took frequant and great delight at 'besting' something or someone. Some of his greatest fun came from winning over the 'establishment' or various authorities of different kinds. One small, but very telling story happened when we were fishing, which we often did. We were miles from nowhere in the Cascade mountains. We'd just returned to the truck with a handfull of trout. We were met by two game wardens who asked, politely, so see our fishing licenses. I knew one of them, and showed my license and started visiting with him. Well, NOT WALT! I knew he had a license, but he started giving them a ration I couldn't believe. Finally, to de-fuse what I saw as a nasty situation coming, I teased and joked with Walt until he grudgingly produced his license. As we drove home, I asked him what that was all about? He kinda smiled and said, "Hell, I just wanted them to earn their damned pay!"

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: SINSULL
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 03:18 PM

Since first reading this thread, I have spent countless hours marvelling at his ability to just GO. And then make it work. The talent would have amounted to nothing without the courage (foolhardiness?) that allowed him to travel on a whim, ease his way into the right situations, and take advantage. Add to it the need and ability to be the center of attention. Just my musings. Does that help Idaho? This thread has struck a chord with me. I hope it never ends. I am learning as much about you and Deckman and Don Firth as I am about Walt Robertson.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 06:58 PM

Hi Sinsull ... Again, I'm impressed with the perceptions. You expressed an interest in Walt's apparent ability to "just go and make it work." Then you mentioned that his talent would have "amounted to nothing without the courage ... that allowed him to travel on a whim, ease into the situation and take advantage." Many of the observations are somewhat true, yet there was always a price.

He had the freedom to pick up and go as he had no binding roots. I won't discuss his marriages or his children, except to say that as "IDAHO 50" implied, at the end of his life he brought these various threads together, and quite successfully. (and admirably I would add.)

Was he courageous? You bet. I remember when he was packing for his year in Tonga. His entire living room floor was strewn with little piles of this and that. I spent a few days helping him return things, dispose of things, organize, etc. During that last week, he slept on the living room floor on a very thin mat. He still had a perfectly good bed in the bedroom, but he was getting ready to travel again and was clearing out his mind as well as his possesions. I drove him to the airport, and he got on the plane carrying a little bag, 8" X 8" x 15", smiling all the way.

He was a survivor like few I've known, and I've known a few. When he first arrived in Honolulu, he spent two and a half years virtually unemployed because of anti white discrimination. During that time, he managed. He sent me 2 or 3 postcards (cheap) every week, and I did so also. I offered him the occasional few dollars, and he always turned it down. I well remember his answer,"I make a poor debtor." (remember now that he and I argued on his deathbed about who owed who the last $100.)

But no matter where he went, or how well preopared he was, he always landed on his feet, independent, proud, and enjoying the hell out of the process. CHEERS, Bob

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Sourdough
Date: 11 Feb 01 - 08:34 PM

THis is a marvellous thread!

I didn't even know of this man but the picture that comes through from the main "biographer" and the other illuminations make fascinating reading. The thread is a genre in itself.

Thanks,

Sourdough

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Bill D
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 12:30 AM

it is a very delicate line someone like Walt walks...insisting that he be the 'center' of attention, but making it seem natural and obvious at the same time. I have wondered several times as I read this, if anyone ever called him on his seeming domination of a gathering? I don't doubt he could handle it...but...

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Idaho 50
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 12:59 AM

As noted before in other comments, when Walt went to Tonga his emphysema was quite bad and he fully believed he was going away to die (hence his letter to Bob about the "wake" he wanted). In true Walt style, he just charged it up to the limit on his VISA card and figured he'd never have to pay the bill....

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: catspaw49
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 01:01 AM

Yeah 'Dough.....I agree. Talk about classic Mudcat threads!

I had a friend who believed in immortality and THIS is the immortality he believed in. Bob, Don, Sandy, et al..........thanks........and we can "take some more." We're "tough" listeners.

Spaw

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Idaho 50
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 01:27 AM

Hey, Deckman, perhaps now it can be told. It is no secret that Walt was secretive (double emphasis twice). In a moment of generosity, Walt showed my guitar-playing son some very tricky, incredibly intricate consecutively syncopated sequences--definitely in the category of "trade secrets". He admonished my son, "But whatever you do, don't show Bob--he's forever been trying to figure it out!"

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 03:30 AM

Hey Idaho 50 ... I'm still laughing about Walt teaching Andy the guitar bit, and insisting that he not show me. That's SO CHARACTERISTIC! Like we often said, he never wanted the left hand to know what the right hand was doing! And speaking of playing his cards close to his vest ... do you remember what we had to do to get his best songs away from him in the early years?

I also wanted to comment on Bill D's thought regarding his "seeming domination" of hoots. He wasn't dominating in the sense that he took over and monopolized a gathering, like a brat with bad manners. It was more a case of his presence, singing style and guitar work being so powerful. He was a force. And just when you might suspect that this is going to be one tough act to follow, he'd up and dissapear, usually with the prettiest girl at the hoot, and show up again 2 years later. CHEERS, Bob

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: SINSULL
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 09:13 AM

Any film footage around? Still trying to figure out a man who goes to Tonga to die in a hut on a beach.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: GUEST,ellenpoly
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 09:19 AM

thanks for helping to fill in the holes! i'm learning so much about this man i thought i knew...one thing i can comment on is that his need to be the center of attention must have waned a fair bit by the time walt came to hawaii.even though he wouldn't turn away from a tussle(verbal,i hasten to add) if it presented itself face on,i often remember him on the sidelines-more the observer than the observed.of course when he took to the stage,you better be able to hold your own,or he'd just shine you into the shadows.but he was not an upstager,,not by then,anyway.he was part of the company effort with the kind of loyalty one dreams of in a friend and fellow worker...ps...i think the competetive element between him and his older cronies was quite amusing to see,as i had the privledge at his last "hoot".it was not my imagination that his menfriends eyed me with that questioning stare,as in..."can i grab the goods while he's looking the other way?" jeeze,you guys played some interesting games among the womenfolk,didn't you???

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 09:40 AM

Why Ellen, shame on you! Whatever do you mean? hee hee. By the way, you described it perfectly when you said that if one was'nt careful "Walt could just shine you into the shadows!" (ever thought of writing seriously... hee hee again) Cheers, Bob

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 09:49 AM

Reply to "Sinsull" ... Yes, actually there are several pieces of film around. The best by far was a film in which he starred. It was shot up here in "Squamish", on the Kitsap Pennisula. It was made with the Hollywood School of Film Production, I believe. It consummed his entire Spring and Summer just before he moved to Hawaii. It never made it to the theaters, but was released in video. I have some friends that have a copy of it, I think. I'll contact them and try to get the title and other information. I do remember that the working title was "Lost Point,", but I'm not sure that title survived the process. Whenever Walt wasn't working on the film, he was staying with me. These were the days that we fished a lot. We spent hours in my "little tin boat," as he would say, cussing and discussing the world. Those were some of our best times. Bob

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: SINSULL
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 10:59 AM

Guest,ellenpoly, "need to be the center of attention" was my take on previous posts. Maybe "ability to be" better describes it. I prefer to melt into the shadows and am fascinated by others' ability to "shine'.

Bob, I would love to track down a copy of the film and share it with anyone interested. See what you can find out. Thanks, Mary

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 04:28 PM

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 04:32 PM

Sorry. Premature e-mouse-ulation!

* * *

Back in the Fifties, the Pacific Northwest's two best known, most prominent folksingers were Ivar Haglund and Walt Robertson.

Ivar Haglund used to have a radio program in the Forties, on which he sang songs of the Pacific Northwest and told stories about the early settlers. It was an amusing, interesting, and informative program and my Dad (who was born on San Juan Island) and I used to listen to him regularly. Ivar was okay. He sounded a bit like Burl Ives on a bad day and he didn't know quite as many guitar chords as Burl Ives did, but he knew a lot of interesting, off-the-wall songs. But by the Fifties he was deep into becoming Seattle's leading seafood restaurateur, and the only singing he did anymore was on TV commercials for his restaurants. He still tried to maintain that he was Seattle's "resident folksinger" despite the fact that he never participated in folk music events in the area, nor would he deign to associate with other folksingers or folk music enthusiasts.

In the Fifties there were several folksingers in the Seattle area, but when it came to actually being out there in front of the public and singing, Walt was the only game in town. And in hoots and songfests, although they were pretty democratic events and everybody got a fair shot at it, there was no doubt as to who was the best of the bunch.

I didn't want to encroach on Walt's territory--

No, that's not true. I did want to encroach on Walt's territory and, in my own way, do what he did. But I wasn't sure I would ever be able to, and I certainly wasn't prepared to try. Yet. But sometimes circumstances conspire, and awkward situations come about.

During the time that Walt was in the Army and subsequently gadding about Europe, I spent the better part of two years in Denver, at the Spears Chiropractic Hospital and Sanitarium undergoing treatment. At the age of two, I had contracted polio. I walked with the aid of a leg-brace and aluminum forearm crutches. My parents sent me off to Spears in the hope that with the right treatment, I might be able to dispense with the brace and crutches, but it's the nature of polio's residual effects that it was not to be.

I spent most of my days at Spears being adjusted, stretched, exercised, hydrotherapized, massaged, and generally run through the ringer. In the evenings there was little to do. I was able to get out and around quite a lot while I was in Denver. But I had brought my guitar (by now, a Martin 00-28-G classic), a stack of guitar technique books, and a stack of songbooks, so I made good use of my spare time. I had a chance to do some singing there, too, for groups of various sizes. Good experience. When I returned to Seattle (still using leg-brace and crutches, but much stronger and healthier), I had a pretty respectable repertoire of songs, a good grasp of the guitar, some confidence about my performing ability, and a firm resolve about what I planned to do.

Reminiscences. . . .

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A short time after my return from Denver I made a gratifying discovery. Gratifying, but somewhat unsettling. It seemed to entail a responsibility that I wasn't sure I was really prepared to assume.

At the time, Walt had not yet returned from the army. Dick Landberg, Rae Creevey, Bob Clark, Ken Manus, and other folksingers had been around for awhile. Now there were many new people on the scene, including several new singers such as Mike Reedy and Danny Duncan. Yet, it appeared that there was no real leader -- no one who, like Walt, was generally regarded as "The Godfather."

Everyone knew Walt. The newcomers, although they hadn't met him or heard him in person, had certainly heard of him.

And it seems they had also heard of me. Since I had been such a neophyte before I left for Denver, I didn't think I had made that big an impression, so I found this pleasantly surprising. I'm not sure, but my guess is that while I was gone, three people in particular -- Dick Landberg, Janice Tennant, and the Inimitable Wilma -- had bragged me up quite a lot.

After singing at several hoots, I began to notice something. If I picked up my guitar, cleared my throat, or even looked like I was preparing to sing, other singers usually deferred to me. And people requested songs from me the same way they used to request them from Walt. In fact, they were treating me much the same way we had all treated Walt when I first started going to hoots.

That's when it sank in. The person most people now seemed to regard as "The Godfather" was me!

Well . . . that was okay, I guess. I certainly didn't mind that. Not at all!

Before Walt left for the Army and before I went to Denver, most of the songs I knew I had either learned from Walt or had learned from some of the same sources he used, such as Sandburg's American Songbag and Lomax's Folksong U. S. A. Walt rarely came to the smaller, spur-of-the-moment hoots. If he were not there, I sang these songs freely. But when he was there, I usually lapsed into the background, as did most of the other singers. I was very much a beginner, and I knew that people would rather hear Walt sing them. So, for that matter, would I.

Since Walt had taught me most of the songs I sang, and since he often took me along when he did television shows and house concerts, I think a number of hoot-goers began to regard me as Walt's protégé. Then, when Walt left for the Army, the mantle fell to me. In their minds, I guess I had become a sort of "heir apparent."

At the time, I was oblivious to all of this.

Then I went to Denver. I practiced a lot while I was there, returned a much more accomplished performer than when I left -- and returned with a lot of advance notice provided by Wilma, Janice, and Dick. Since I returned some months before Walt did, I had the field pretty much to myself. During those few months, without even attempting to, I seem to have established myself as the big kid on the block.

But now Walt was back. What could have developed into an awkward situation began to show itself.

There we would be, Walt and me, sitting together at a hoot. Someone would call out something like, "Hey, Don, sing Blue Mountain Lake." Or some other song that I had learned from Walt.

This happened again and again.

I don't know if it bothered Walt, but he was cool.

Usually I would say something like, "You ought to hear Walt do that one. After all, I learned it from him."

Then Walt would say, "No, you go ahead. I'd like to hear how you do it."

Sometimes we'd get into an "Alphonse and Gaston" routine until finally someone would interrupt and say, "For cryin' out loud! Will one of you please sing the damned song?"

No problem. It all worked out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is as Bob the Deckman says: "He wasn't dominating in the sense that he took over and monopolized a gathering, like a brat with bad manners. It was more a case of his presence, singing style and guitar work being so powerful. He was a force."

Walt didn't seem to be particularly worried about competition. From early on, he had been giving me hints and tips about such things as how to set up a good program and other aspects of performing for the public, and taking me along and sometimes including me when he performed. After the awkward situation I described above, apparently deciding that I was really serious about performing, he continued discussing aspects of performing with me and taking me, and occasionally others, along when he performed. I remember one concert in particular:

Walt had been asked by Hewitt Jackson of the Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society to do (I think) a fund-raising concert at the Washington State Museum of History and Industry. Walt asked me and Helen Thompson, a fine young folksinger with a really sweet voice, who had recently arrived in Seattle from Berkeley, to join him (no, Walt wasn't lusting after her, I was). We got together ahead of time, rehearsed a bit, then did it. Walt still did the lion's share of the singing, but it was liberally interspersed with duets and trios, most of it improvised on the spot. We really sounded good together. It was an outrageous concert, and by the time it was over the three of us were just about drunk with applause. Afterwards we talked seriously about forming a trio, but with both Helen and me going to school and Walt's various activities, we couldn't get together frequently enough to make it work. Really too bad.

Next time I'll put on some of the things Walt taught me about performing.

Don Firth

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: SINSULL
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 08:45 PM

And in all of this Don, did you really think we were going to let you get away without answering the most critical question? What happened to the fair Claire?

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Bill D
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 09:04 PM

....the only reason I asked about 'domination' was that in reading this early post back up there:

"Walt was one of the most amazing controllers I've ever witnessed. It was fun watching him take over a hoot. He would arrive late, lurk in the background until he picked his spot, usually next to a beautiful girl. He would wait his moment, then slide into position next to her. He always kept his guitar tuned lower than anyone else. That way no one could play along with him. He usually prepared a new song for every hoot. These songs we called "hoot killers," because after he sang it, we usually just closed up our instruments and slunk away."

it seemed just a little 'excessive'....I do see that he was a much more complex and giving guy than that post seemed to imply, but I suspect shy little me would have been intimidated and grumpy before I appreciated him properly....*big grin*...I do wish I'd met him AFTER I learned the ropes a bit...I envy you all who shared those days

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 12 Feb 01 - 11:40 PM

To "Bill D" ... again, I'm amazed at how much you are picking up. I agree, as a 'younger person' no one could match Walt, or even hold his head even. But remember here, you are hearing the continum of some 38 plus years of experiences ... what I was at 15, was not what I was at 63, or whatever. We grow, we change, we reject, we accept, we adapt, and most of all, we choose. We choose that which we want to emulate, to follow, to exemplify. For me, personally, there were many things about Walt I admired, and many things I didn't. You find your heros and you make your choices.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Idaho 50
Date: 13 Feb 01 - 01:02 AM

Some of Walt's songs that personified him he did with all the actor's gusto. "I have been a good boy, wed to peace and study; I shall die an old man, ribald, coarse and bloody". He especially savored the lines: "I have been and good boy and done what was ex-pect-ed, I shall be an old bum, loved but unrespected". Then an example of his many irreverent specialties was "My sweetheart's the mule in the mines, I drive her without rein or lines; on the bunker I sit and I chew and I spit, all over my sweetheart's behind". Then there was "Sam Hall", delivered with venom and a fierce flash in the eye. "My name it is Sam Hall, Sam Hall (repeated 2 or 3 times), I hate you one and all, you're a bunch of b******s all, Goddam your eyes." The words look tame on paper compared to his delivery that really crackled. So it was abundantly clear how much sense of delivery as an actor he possessed.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Idaho 50
Date: 13 Feb 01 - 01:08 AM

The movie Deckman mentions with the working title "No Point" came out under the title "Island Bound". The script and plot however was wanting. It is exactly the same theme as "Milagro Bean Fields War", but unfortunately it had no pizzazz. In fact, as they were filming, and they tried to overcome the inertia of the film, Walt proved to be the best centerpiece and they expanded his part. He has done other live theatre much more successfully (because there he had more to work with).

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 13 Feb 01 - 07:00 AM

Over the years, he had many bit parts in several films, including "Officer and a Gentleman." One time when he was staying with me he received a letter forwarded from Hollywood. He flew off and returned with quite a sizable check from residuals that had built up in his name at the actors union office. While he was a good actor, the best stories I remember about his film experiences had to do with the cast parties.

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Rick Fielding
Date: 13 Feb 01 - 11:09 AM

My Gawd, this is interesting, and perhaps all the more so because we have a manageable "listening group" in this thread, which has allowed the story tellers to stay focused. When I first joined Mudcat, I envisioned this kind of interaction as the norm. Needless to say, as the site became more popular because of it's friendliness, it started to reflect the images of a "mainstream" community (which is OK, AND inevitable) and discussions like this often focused on mainstream (and commercially successful) artists. To hear about the incredibly full and complex life of someone who I'd only known as a name in a Folkways catalogue, is an unbelievable treat. A couple of thoughts come to mind, however.

There probably were a dozen or so "major" folk communities in North America during the mid fifties through the sixties, but ninety percent of the attention was focused on the New York one. Sing-Out would occasionally mention goings-on in Chicago, Los Angeles, Boston, and even my home of Toronto. Usually when any other area was mentioned it was because ONE person had the right politics and kept the magazine informed. Three or four times a year they'd mention Jenny Wells Vincent, in New Mexico, or Ernie Marrs (in Atlanta?) or Will McLean in Florida. Walt didn't even get that kind of notoriety, so I would have had no way of knowing whether ANYONE played a guitar (Martin or otherwise) in the Pacific Northwest. Hell I barely knew what the Pacific Northwest was!

I'm sure there are thousands more like myself who became well-informed but in a strictly "NEW YORK-CENTRIC" way. Mudcat has occasionaly been quite helpful in that way. On a number of occasions I've bugged Art Theime for "Chicago stories", and have tried to give a picture myself, of the Toronto Folk scene.

It's great to hear about the songs, but to learn about you folks and your friend Walt....well, better late than never!

Thanks again

Rick

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 13 Feb 01 - 01:57 PM

Just checking in -- I have a full day today with an important meeting that I have to prepare for this evening, so I don't have time to do much on this thread today, but to answer Sinsull's question about the fair Claire….. I can answer this pretty quickly by doing a little cut-and-paste from my "reminiscences" project.

I actually began playing the guitar a few months before I heard Walt for the first time. Claire got me started.

While visiting her grandmother in the small town of Raymond in southwest Washington, Claire mentioned that she had been learning a lot of folk songs and planned to buy a guitar so she could learn to accompany herself. Claire's grandmother said, "Heaven's child, there's no need for you to buy a guitar. I have one right here in the closet you can have. I haven't played it for years." Until then, Claire didn't know that her grandmother ever played a guitar. Her grandmother went on to say, "I'm sure it's a good one. Your grandfather bought it for me new for fifty dollars." It was a George Washburn "Ladies' Model," made around the turn of the century. Basically it was in pretty good shape for sitting idle in a closet for several decades. The bridge needed to be re-glued and reinforced, but otherwise, it was in excellent condition. With a new set of light gauge strings, the little guitar sang out again, sweet and mellow.

Claire was having so much fun with it that I wandered down to a music store that had dozens of really cheap guitars and plunked down $9.95 on a "Regal" plywood guitar. I was lucky. The neck was straight, the frets were accurately placed, the action was fairly soft, and the tone, although reminiscent of apple-crate, wasn't too bad. Claire taught me G, C, and D7; and Em, Am, and B7. I had a copy of A Treasury of Folk Songs compiled by John and Sylvia Kolb, a paperback bought off a rack in a drugstore for 35 cents (an excellent little collection, long since out of print), so I set to work. A couple months later, I heard about Walt's up-coming concert at The Chalet, which I described above.

Sweet-voiced, tall and slender, with her dark hair flowing over her shoulders, Claire made quite a picture as she sang with her guitar.

Then came the fateful evening in January of 1954.

------------------------------------------------------------------

. . . That was the evening that Claire and I broke up. Or rather, Claire broke up with me. She told me that it had been nice, but. . . .

She was a couple quarters away from getting her degree in Sociology, and she had some fairly definite ideas about where she was going in the near future and she wanted to get on with it. In the meantime, there I was, furrowing my brow, waffling about what I was going to do with my life, and seemingly going off in several different directions at once, all with pretty iffy prospects.

It was a fairly amicable break-up and looking back on it, I can't say that I blame her, but I did feel a bit ill used at the time. But if I felt ill used, the Fates soon avenged me, at least in a small way.

On several occasions Claire had expressed dissatisfaction with her name. She felt it was anything but euphonious.

"Claire Hess!" she would say. "Plunk plunk! I'm going to be sure to marry someone with a last name that's at least two syllables."

This was mildly disturbing to me. "Claire Firth" would not be a great improvement.

Not long after she and I parted company, she married a fellow named Jerry Huff.

* * * But seriously:

Claire was more than just a major factor in my up-close introduction to folk music. When she first began to learn folk songs and teach herself to play the guitar, her enthusiasm and diligence inspired me to try to participate as well. She was helpful and supportive in my first fumbling efforts, which to me at least, didn't seem very encouraging. She provided the encouragement. This, I truly appreciate.

I haven't seen her or heard anything about her since the mid-Fifties. I hope she is happy and doing well. And still singing.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry for the thread creep, but it wouldn't have been right not to give Claire due credit for introducing me real folk songs, sung live and in person, and getting me directly involved in the first place. I am eternally grateful to Claire for this -- and for that fact that had it not been for her, I might never have gone to Walt Robertson's concert at The Chalet.

Don Firth

By tomorrow, definitely. . . .

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Don Firth
Date: 13 Feb 01 - 02:00 PM

Great! Left out the HTML code after "excellent." joclone, he-e-e-e-e-elp!!

Don Firth

at your service:-)

Subject: RE: Tales of Walt Robertson
From: Deckman
Date: 13 Feb 01 - 02:18 PM

One of the funniest stories I remember about Walt happened one day when we were fishing in the mouth of the Snohomish River, right in front of Everett. It had a been a hot August day, no wind, and we were heading into the dock. We were tired and Walt was getting cranky ... as I remember I'd landed a couple of salmon and he hadn't. That ALWAYS made him cranky, especially when I kept holding the fish up so he could admire them. Just as we entered the mouth of the river, I said, "let's give it one more try right here." I shut off the motor and we threw our lines out. In no time, Walt had a big strike. Man was he excited. I pulled in my line and reached for the salmon net. We could tell from the way his pole was acting that whatever it was, it was BIG! Slowly he brought it up, and it was a struggle. Finally, dimly through the water, we could see it. AN HONEST TO GAWD RUBBER BOOT! The classic fishing story, he'd caught a rubber boot! I started laughing so hard I fell over backwards. Finally I looked at Walt's face. He could do a slow burn like no one I'd ever seen before. He said, "NELSON, DON'T YOU DARE SAY A WORD." I pulled the boot in and put it in the fish box. After we docked, I went to get the truck and boat trailor and Walt stayed with the boat. After we got the boat loaded, I couldn't find the boot. I asked Walt about it. He said, "What Goddamned boot?"