Martha Bassett

Traces of the Past

First Published March, 2021

A few years ago, while rambling around on a Sunday drive, I stumbled upon the town of Rockford. I felt like I’d been transported back a century. I grew up in a place sort of like that, although Mount Nebo, WV, never reached the grandeur of Rockford. But we had a bona fide general store owned by our neighbors, the Kings, where we bought groceries, fertilizer for the garden, and new shoes at the beginning of the school year. The postmaster, Nora, knew everyone and her corner of the store was a bustling hub of news and gossip. Mom would occasionally send me down to pick up a gallon of milk and put it on our tab.

The population of Mount Nebo was under 200 back then. I rode miles on my bike to play with other kids. I always wished I were one of the town kids who ran in packs and had tight social circles. All I had was freedom and long stretches of time to climb rock cliffs, build forts, read books, and follow paths in the woods. I thought we were poor because we didn’t eat food from cans, and my mom didn’t buy junk food.

Most of the socializing happened at church, and it was at Gilgal Methodist that I attended two singing schools led by Aaron Ryder, the last itinerant singing-school teacher in WV. He traveled the state teaching farmers and coalminers how to sing hymns in four-part harmony using shaped note hymnals. Years later in a college class called “The History of American Music Education,” I read that singing schools were a phenomenon of the nineteenth century. Aaron’s wife, Freda, was my piano teacher and she played the old stride style. Instead of teaching me to play the music as it was written, she taught ear training, chord inversions, and improvisation. Twice per summer, the WV State Gospel Song Convention, just down the road, was teeming with tour buses and campers, backing up traffic for miles on our one lane road. All came out to hear famous family bands and Southern Gospel quartets on an open-air stage with a sound system so loud you could hear it a couple of miles away. Otherwise, everyone knew everyone, and their business. We didn’t lock our cars and homes. My older cousins told me about a fiddler’s convention, in nearby Clifftop. But I wasn’t allowed to go, as it was a hangout for hippies and flatlanders (my dad’s word for non-West Virginians).

Now there are around 1600 people living in Mount Nebo. Houses line the two-lane road that winds through some of the prettiest countryside you’ll ever see. The General Store is boarded up and folks shop at the Walmart in the next town over. The last time I attended the Song Convention there were a few quartets singing along with tracks to a small audience. No bands, no buses, no crowds. At churches, the notes in the hymnals are round, and I hear it’s hard to find a pianist.

Seeing Rockford brought all this to mind. If you were born before 1975 you probably have the same sort of tale to tell. I raised my children in Greensboro, NC, where they did not run free or eat directly from a garden. My generation (Gen-X) is perhaps the last to experience that older analog world. Nostalgia is tricky, and some of the past I’m more than happy to leave behind. But through rose-colored glasses I share the good parts, some of which still exist. Clifftop, for example, has grown into a flourishing music festival, still attracting hippies and flatlanders from all over the world. In fact, music is one place where you can reliably find traces of the past, even in the new stuff which always builds on the old, just like a town.

by Gin Denton

Carolina John Rees

First Published May, 2020 John Rees, known in the music world as Carolina John Rees, is a Mount Airy native. He was born here and graduated from Mount Airy High School. I met John though my musician husband, and not only did John impress me with his kindness, he shared that he’s a regular reader of my music scene column. Now that’s a sure way to brighten a writer’s day!

Piano is John’s instrument, and he describes himself as a professional musician working on original material in the acoustic genre. His first paid job was circa 1963 at Red’s Roller Rink in Galax with a local group called Ragmen. He then joined the Imperials, who recorded a regionally successful single in 1964. Two days after his graduation from Guilford College in 1971, he began a six-night a week stint playing original music at Mr. Henry’s, a restaurant still open in Washington, DC. While in DC, John also hired out as a rhythm section for national acts, like the Platters and Johnny Tillotson, playing in the capital area. He returned to NC to be the rhythm section for the O’Kaysions, and this gig opened doors in Nashville for John to submit songs to a music publisher. After leaving the O’Kaysions, he performed solo and then formed the John Rees Quartet that played the Greensboro area. Next, it was off to Nashville, where he worked as a professional musician with Donna Fargo. Then he played for Skeeter Davis, who mostly worked the Grand Old Opry and toured abroad. While John worked with Skeeter for over 30 years, he was also able to establish a career in town with various radio and television shows and as a studio session leader. My favorite question for local musicians is “How far have you traveled?” I love John’s response, “I've traveled the world over.” Yes, John has traveled far and touched many people with his music, but fortunately for Surry County, John recently came home to Mount Airy to relaunch his original music. He has been recording those songs and releasing them as singles. On the side, he plays piano at Chestnut Ridge Progressive Primitive Baptist Church. If you are lucky, you might catch him playing at random events in the community, including benefit shows. John does not maintain an online presence on Facebook, and he toots that he doesn’t even have a business card. It's been word of mouth up till now and that seems to work okay, according to him. You can find his music on Spotify, YouTube, and Apple Music. Just search for Carolina John Rees. You’ll be glad you did!

Happy Trails to you!

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