Changes: A New Nest for the Owl

As the traveler, usually I am telling stories about where I am going and how glad I am to return home.  And, since I enjoy both the leaving and the returning, I love sharing about both movements.  One of my teachers in seminary talked about this as the rhythm of "Access and Retirement".  Going out and coming in; like a contradance.

But today's post is about a change in venue.  But not the ones to which I travel to perform and teach.  This time the venue change is the location of where I'll return.

My spouse is a pastor, and after nearly 17 years of joyful and grateful service to the campus of Colorado State University through Lutheran Campus Ministry, she has resigned her call in order to accept the call to be Pastor of St. Andrews Lutheran Church in San Mateo, California.

This will be a huge change for us since we have grown to love being Coloradoans, but it is time and we are ready for the next adventures that await.  And, since both of our children are in the Bay Area (for the near future, anyway), we'll have the joy of connecting with them more frequently in person!

The timing of the change is certain for Connie, who will begin her service on January 1, 2014, but is less certain for me, since I will remain behind to fix up and prep our house for sale and stay with it until it sells.  So, I am assuming I'll be around for a couple of months, anyway.

I will continue teaching and performing and traveling, while preparing to re-root Owl Mountain Music, Inc. in its third nest since beginning in 1990.  For those of you keeping score:  Kansas City, MO, Fort Collins, CO and now San Mateo, CA.

Dancing at Aunt Darline's 1984

There are some other changes that have been underway this year:

I am also excited that I've been able to let go of responsibility for the Colorado Dulcimer Festival, which I began and ran for 10 years with a dedicated crew of volunteers.  These volunteers have incorporated and are planning to carry it on for several years into the future!

And, I am delighted that Scott Berwick has been elected to the office of Secretary-Treasurer of the Traveling Musicians Union, Local 1000 AFM.  He takes over when my term ends on Dec 31st of this year.

So, now I am in the process of shedding, shredding and packing in preparation!  All activities which make a perfect fit with autumnal rhythms.  Let's dance!

The Power of Music and the Power of Connections #2

This story also begins with the ring of a telephone:

I am on tour in Berkeley, California in May of this year and my phone rings.  My colleague, folk-singer John McCutcheon, is on the end of the line.

He asks if I remember the Woody Guthrie song, "Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)" about the immigrant farm laborers who were being deported from the US when their airplane crashed.  Radio reports named the crew and white immigration workers who were killed, but only said the rest were, "deportees."

I said of course I know that song.

He said, "If these people were being deported, then the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service) had to have had their names written down somewhere.  Some younger people, who were not alive when the crash happened, who only knew of the story from Woody's song, had determined to find out the names of all of these victims and were seeking to create a memorial and funds were needed."

"They found their names, and now they are raising funds to create the memorial in Fresno at the cemetary where the mass grave is.  I think we, as folksingers, should support this project."

Because of John's instigation, members of my union, Local 1000 AFM (American Federation of Musicians), became the largest single financial supporters of this project, which was unveiled earlier this month on Labor Day.

John reflected, "It is the power of a folk song that kept this tragedy of this incident alive, long after all the participants and witnesses have died."

The Fresno Bee has this article about the unveiling.

Almost everyday since Labor Day I have been singing Woody's song, this time ending,

"Now we know your names when you rode the big airplane, 
Now we won't call you "deportee."