Knight
Pastor Mary asked if Becky and I could play a few songs for a Thursday evening event of storytelling and music on the church’s Back Porch. We said we could and would. I find it hard to say no to a request from her. Is that because she is my pastor? Is it because I find it hard to say no to anyone’s request to play music? I’m not sure, and I guess it doesn’t really matter.
Anyway, the evening was planned as a time for people to gather together in our just completed shelter house behind the church dubbed “The Back Porch.” A couple of long-time members would be there to share memories and retell stories they have heard over the years concerning the Nashville church. Our part was to come up with some songs that told stories. In the following days, I proceeded to rummage through my mental catalogue of Story Songs.
I came of age musically at the end of the folk music era of the ’50s and ‘60s and became familiar with what radio, television and pop culture media of the day called “folk music.” This music, I eventually realized, was often lively commercial notions of folk music rather than traditional down-to-earth music by down-to-earth folks.
Before this cultural trend appeared on my radar, however, I had learned old folk tunes from mostly southern family members. Both of these cultural gifts became strands of my musical DNA. And after the Beatles and then Bob Dylan tried to teach me to play guitar, I eventually attempted to replicate my folk music repertoire with my limited instrumental skills.
As I went through folk song after folk song, a pattern began to emerge. Most of the story telling songs, at least the ones I came up with, were sad tales, often of misguided love triangles that ended violently. Maybe not the best choices for a church back porch story fest. So Becky and I started considering tunes that technically were not discovered by musicologists in mountain hollows or rural delta farm fields, but still had that sort of folk “feel” that we were after.
One song from my radio past was “The Unicorn” by the Irish Rovers. I remembered learning that it was written by Shel Silverstein who wrote other radio songs including the Johnny Cash hit “A Boy Named Sue.” (Silverstein also authored a wildly successful book of children’s verse, Where the Sidewalk Ends which includes the poem “The Unicorn.”)
“The Unicorn” tells the story of Noah’s Ark—sort of. In this telling of the Bible story, unicorns are beautiful creature who like to romp and play and act silly. This playful attitude eventually leads to them being left behind on a rock as the waters rise and the Ark floats off. Becky thought that part was sad, but, still, we decided to see if we could learn it anyway.
As in most successful folk songs, the chords and melody are fairly simple and straightforward. The refrain, which is repeated after nearly every verse, has a singsong quality that is made for kids. It’s not quite a tongue-twister, but it does require you to concentrate on getting the words in the correct order. Of course, the Irish Rovers being from Ireland, they sing with a heavy brogue. I didn’t really attempt that part, but after a while, we felt confident enough to give it a public try.
Let’s just say It went over well with the very generous and accepting folk in attendance. One long-time member, however, came up later and told me she thought it was sad that the unicorns were left behind just because they were frolicking in the rain. I nodded in agreement. Later in the evening I briefly pondered the theological implications of the story. I decided, yes, it is a little sad, but just as a simple song, it certainly is fun to sing.
Norman Knight, a retired Clark-Pleasant Middle School teacher, writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
