Names & Faces

Faces

Names & Faces

Bobby Mace, Rudy Timm, I wonder where these folks have been
Doug Van Aken, Ernie Bevins, some are now in hell or heaven

Hartford Keith, Old Black Burt, Oscar Smith & Dirty Girt
Shirley Richmond, bent & old, Sonny Saup, lean and bold

Ote & Myrtie, Prattsville girls, some of them sure rocked my world
Gerhardt Goodmonk, brother Johnnie, Wild Bill’s kids, one named Ronnie

Kenny Clark, Joe Campenella, young and cool Italian fella
Earnest Breadsley, Franklin Brown, lived around the Gilboa Town

Tom & Betty, Doris & Paul, all the Haskins, cousins all.
Jimmy Cushman from the city, the Gehrken girls all sweet & pretty.

Hayward Newcomb, Earnest Lee, man I sure would like to see
How they lived and how they fared, how they failed and how they dared

This list is long, the memories warm, as life gets further from the farm.
These folks were context, background, texture, and who’d forget Prof Peckham’s lectures.

In this brief flash of light & glee, bounded by eternity,
I hope they lived and danced and laughed and picked sweet flowers as they passed.

And as my dreams and memories blur, I see them still as they once were.
And as my dreams and memories blur, I see them still as they once were……...

Kicked By Cow Talking Blues, Three Chord One Take And To Hell With It

Kicked, Original By Gerry Hubbard

https://hubbardfamilymusic.tumblr.com/post/6725577733/kicked-original-by-gerry-hubbard-pauls-been

Raking With Merel Jr.

Raking With Merle Jr Talking Blues, Gerry Hubbard

Merle Jr. pulled our dump rake with his Chevy pickup truck
And he sure can’t be accused of going slow.
Twenty miles per hour on a steel-wheeled dump rakes fast
And since I did it, I’m the guy to know.

I don’t remember why he came up on the hill that day
I think we might have had a tractor down,
Or he might’ve had his Allis Chalmers baler on the hill,
The one that made the bales completely round.

I think I must have been about the age of eight or nine
And I know that I had rode the rake before,
But I never had to work so hard to keep from falling off
As Merle Jr seemed to gas that truck the more.

The rake tines would come up and hit the seat and bang my butt
As Merle Jr. seemed to speed it up each pass,
And if I missed a "trip",  he’d look back at me and grin
And then I think I heard a devilish laugh.

I never did fall off that rake but sometimes it was close
And we got that hayfield raked in record time.
And though it’s 60 years or so since that one summer day
I still remember all of it just fine.

The clanging rake, the hay seed dust, the clouds behind the hill
And all about a looming threat of rain,
And if I had the chance I’d probably spend my only dime
To go back there and do it all again.