The month of May ended with an eight-day trip to Branson, Missouri. We traveled approximately 2300 miles through five states and four capitals. We went by bus with 24 other people, two of who were our driver, Ollie, and Twig, our tour hostess. It was a first for us and it will be the last time that we undertake a bus ride of such length. We liked the bus as transportation since it is great to “leave the driving to us”, but next time the number of days will be less. Branson is Las Vegas without sex and gambling. It is billed as “Real American Entertainment”. It has more that 40 state of the art theaters. The music covers swing, gospel, 50’s rock, patriotic, classical, and country. It covers an area as spread out as Disney World only it is built on the side of steep hills. It is located in the Ozark Mountains and there are many lakes in the area. The city is a parking lot on any given day so we had another reason to rejoice in having a bus take us everywhere. It has many stars who have their own theaters, like Andy Williams, Yakov Smirnoff, Bobby Vinton, Jim Stafford-, Mel Tillis, The Platters, Shoji Tabuchi, Tony Orlando, and on, and on. I think our hostess said something like 52 shows are available at the peak of the season. We arrived on Thursday night and attended the oldest continuous show, “The Baldknobbers Jamboree Theater”. The term “baldknobber” is derived from the history of the area. The Ozarks in the mid1800’s was still the Wild West. A ‘bald knob’ was the top of the mountain where there was no growth. It was bald and appeared like a knob sticking out up there. The law having little control in the area, a group of men decided to create their own police force. It became known as the Baldknobbers.
Their story is told partly in a best selling novel about the area called, “The Shepherd of Hills”. It later was made into two different movies. The book was published in 1907. It is a good love story. The dialect of the mountain people makes it difficult at times to understand. It is something like trying to read an Irish story where the brogue is written. The bus ride gave us a chance to read; though getting really comfortable was difficult at times. The bus could seat 55 people so having only 24 gave us room to spread out. Throughout most of the ride, June sat in one “two-seater” and I in another, usually one behind the other. I managed to finish a new novel by P.D.James, “Death in Holy Orders”.
The Baldknobbers show was mostly country music with hillbilly humor. Two characters provided the humor, one I think called Snuffy who had no teeth and did a gymnastic feat of putting his lower lip up over his nose! The humor consisted of them unceremoniously interrupting the music with exaggerated observations and shaggy dog stories. This show on Thursday, the night of our arrival, was not our first. We had stopped the first night, Tuesday, in Dotham, Alabama, know as the “Circle City” and had live comedy show and dinner in the “Understudy Theater” in downtown Dotham. We sat within touching distance of the performers and they were very entertaining. The show was called “Grits on the Side” and was take off on the Southern customs and traditions, like dress, cooking, language and high level gossip. One of the funnier and repeated skits was by two guys dressed as two gabby dowagers. They would meet on Sunday nights and talk about their neighbors. Most of the comments about them were of course derogatory and as they talked they were smiling pleasantly and waving to the subjects seated across the room. We later learn that the whole purpose of this get together in the hall on Sunday was to watch TV Wrestling ! On the last occasion on stage they began attacking each other about the others latest ego trip and naturally they end up wrestling. Incidentally Dotham is know as the “Circle City” since a 17-mile road surrounds the city called the Ross Carter Circle. (Just thought you ought to know in case it came up in your next game of trivia.)
We saw three shows Friday and Saturday. On Sunday we took a ride in DUKW, or ducks, vehicles that ride on land and water(like ducks do). The took us up to a mountain top and then to the dam that made one of the large lakes, called TableRock Lake. I volunteered to drive the “duck” while it was in the Lake. I received an “Honorary Captain License”,”… for bravely taking the wheel and navigating beautiful Table Rock Lake in Branson, Missouri with impressive skill and amazing precision…Please remember to return to your home port often to exercise your bragging rights..etc.” I accomplished all these things in a matter of at least ten minutes. I think the highest speed was 3 knots but I never was allowed near the throttle!
Sunday night Bobby Vinton and his family along with the Glenn Miller Orchestra entertained us. His family included two daughters, a son, and his 80-year-old, mother. He has two other children who worked behind the scenes along with his wife who produces the show. At intermission we had the most unforgettable events of the trip. June and I went up on stage and danced to the music of Glenn Miller. We even managed to jitterbug to “In the Mood”. I know some of you who read this may never have heard of Glenn Miller nor of course of his famous “In the Mood”, but we both have and enjoyed it immensely. We both agreed it was one of the top events of the trip. The ride home was faster. It was uneventful except for a mix up about the dinner on Monday night in Vicksburg, MS and being stopped by the State Trooper in the same state. I did have a great feeling going over the Mississippi of things that Mark Twain wrote and could hear the tunes from Showboat in my head. This was our second time in the State of Mississippi. We had stopped a Tupelo on Wednesday night on the way to Branson. I am reminded whenever I see word “Tupelo” of Anne. She lived on a street with that name in Ambler but I don’t think she ever knew, or cared, that it was also name of the town where Elvis was born. We had an imitating Elvis after dinner on our stop there and a visit to the house in which he was born.
The last stop was in Panama City Beach, Florida at the “Sunspree Resort”. We had a room overlooking the Gulf and its beach. June commented that they really should have planned for us to stay there more than one night. It was the kind of place you could spend a lot of time. Incidentally the next morning we had bus trouble and a delayed start. For a time I began to think that June must have called on the Lord to arrange for a longer stay, but come 9:30 AM we were on our way. We managed even with the late start to be at our pick up place to be picked up in St. Petersburg a half an hour early.
We were happy to be home. But immediately the urgency of things pending came rushing upon us. It was Thursday and June had to put together with others the New Members Dinner for Friday evening. So the pace began to pick up immediately and has been going at full tilt since.
Anne is in my thoughts, not only because of our going to Tupelo but there is a notice on the web page of a memorial Mass for her on August 4th. It will be a year on August 1st that she went to accept that “better offer” God made. Incidentally the 4th is also the day of the Cousin’s Party at Rich and Shirley’s in Northeast, Maryland. The announcement of that and directions etc. are also on the web page(www.mcsorley.org). The last cousin’s party was where I saw Anne for the last time. I look at the pictures (still on the web page) of her smiling and I can hear that cackle of a laugh. So it seems fitting that a memorial and cousin’s party are to held on the same day. Anne would be the first to agree that any real memorial has to be a celebration.
On Sunday June 3rd, the McSorley name was in the news once again. This time it was in the New York Times Book Review magazine. It reported that the book “McSorley’s Wonderful Saloon” is being reissued. I had a copy at one time but where it is now I haven’t the slightest idea. Joseph Mitchell wrote the book while he was a reporter for two New York City newspapers. It was first published in 1943 and I think it was around that time that it came into our old homestead in Philly. It is a collection of anecdotes about people who frequented McSorley’s as community center. They wrote there, they just hung out there, or came to listen to others telling their stories there. It was reviewed by Jimmy Breslin, who notes, “The stories…were written before World War II and they are as good now as they were when he wrote them. Mitchell’s work has lasted for 60 years because of his unique style…He rarely used a telephone. He walked on his feet to see people. When he came through the door he brought his heart with him.” It is certainly a lot better reading about “McSorley’s Wonderful Saloon” than McSorley the ice hockey chopper (or whatever he was).
It is 50 years this month since I graduated from St.Joseph College. It is no longer even called ” College”, but is now a University. I remember a fellow, whose name I now forget, but who was involved so much in student government nationally that he took a year off to help consolidate it. He eventually was employed by the then Senator John F. Kennedy. A story goes that he had so many times referred to “the College” to friends and associates within the hearing of the Senator, that it got the best of him. He knew Harvard, he knew Yale and Dartmouth were sometimes so called, but he also knew his assistant had not attended any of them, so what “college” was he talking about? Happily, the Saint Joe graduate illuminated the future President on where “THE College” was. Mike Stack, a graduate with me, went to Washington Area when Kennedy was elected and the gentleman referred to had moved up to the White House. It is from Mike that I recall I got this story. Mike’s dad was a Congressman during one of the FDR terms but got bounced for supporting Father Coughlin. I remember in 1960 standing and talking on the corner of 52nd Markets Streets in Philadelphia. I was promoting the election of Kennedy for President. I noticed over the heads of the few people around me, Mike’s Dad. I never got to meet him but felt flattered that he even took the time to stop and listen to a young lawyer politician.
The month ends with a celebration in Sarasota of Marge and Dan’s 50th Wedding anniversary. Dan graduated from Villanova in same year as I, 1951. He and Marge were then married. I intend to attend the celebration. June will be in prison. She is part of a team going to Coleman Federal Prison that weekend to bring the story and spirit of Christianity to the prisoners. I’ll tell you more probably in August since July will find us up in New Jersey and it surroundings.
Until then, Dominus Vobiscum!