Yvonne Tweddle interview with Sam Shirah (part two)

The John Burrison Georgia Folklore Archive recordings contains unedited versions of all interviews. Some material may contain descriptions of violence, offensive language, or negative stereotypes reflecting the culture or language of a particular period or place. There are instances of racist language and description, particularly in regards to African Americans. These items are presented as part of the historical record. This project is a repository for the stories, accounts, and memories of those who chose to share their experiences for educational purposes. The viewpoints expressed in this project do not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the Atlanta History Center or any of its officers, agents, employees, or volunteers. The Atlanta History Center makes no warranty as to the accuracy or completeness of any information contained in the interviews and expressly disclaims any liability therefore. If you believe you are the copyright holder of any of the content published in this collection and do not wa This is the second of a two part recording, it contains Sam Shirahs rendition of folk and country songs written by other musicians. The last song is a popular song that has been sung by many artists, both in England and the United States. It tells the story of a high paid politician and the impoverished young woman he impregnates. The song highlights the stratified class systems and how the poor get blamed for things and face more consequences, more so than the rich. 0:00-3:15: Diamond Joe by Cisco Houston 4:10-6:36: Those Brown Eyes by Woody Guthrie 8:22-14:13: True Blue Bill by Gene Autry 14:35-16:12: Dirty Overhauls by Woody Guthrie 16:25: Unknown title and artist; lyrics are in the transcript. 20:53-23:05: Waiting for a Train by Jimmie Rodgers 23:10-25:30: In the Jailhouse Now, No.2 by Jimmie Rodgers 25:35-28:45: She Was Poor but She Was Honest Sam Shirah (1944-1980) was born outside Birmingham, Alabama. He attended Birmingham-Southern University for one year and then dropped out to become an active participant in the Civil Rights Movement in the American South. Then to pursue music full time, Shirah moved to New York where he performed in coffee houses, specifically in Greenwich Village. He later moved to New Orleans, Louisiana, with Bob Dylan, then to Atlanta, Georgia, where he continued to be active in the Civil Rights Movement. Towards the end of his life, he continued to engage with both civil rights and music in Atlanta, playing in bars and speaking at the University of Georgia. TAPE 2. Side 1. 1. Well there is a man you hear about, most any place you go, And his holdings are in Texas, and his name is Diamond .Joe, And he carries all his money, in a diamond studded jar, And he never took much trouble Idth the process of the law. Well I hired out to Diamond Joe, boys, I did offer him my hand, Anf'he.gave me a string of horses, so old it rould not stand, And I nearly starved to death, boys, the way he tricked me so, And I never saved a dollar, in the pay of Diamond Joe. Well his bread it was corn dodger, and his meat you could not chaw, And he nearly drove me crazy, with the waggin' of his jaw, And the stories he did tell, boys, yes I mean to let you know, . There aint never been a rounder, I~ho could lie like Diamond .Joe. Well I tried three times to quit him, boys, but now he did argue so, That I'm still punching cattle, in the pay of Diamond .Joe, And when I'm called up younder, and it comes my time to go, Give my blankets to by buddies, give the fleas to Diamond .Joe. 2. Brown eyes, I love so well, Brown eyes, I long to see, Yes, how I long for those brown eyes, Strangers they have grown to be. As I was walking down the street, Those brown eyes I did chance to meet, But another man was by her side, And I knew she'd never be my bride. (First Verse) 3. I've got a sad, sad story, friends, that I don't like to tell, I had a home and family, but they locked me in this cell, Well I been in here eighteen years, long, long time I know, But time don't mean a thing to me, I still got life to go. Well I went out when the light was bright, to see what I could see, I ran into an old friend, who meant the world to me, Well words was said and now he's dead, . Yes words was said and now he's dead, just had to cut him dOlm. Well I bet they' s not a man outside, who's spent this long in jai 1. .... (I just can't remember these country songs, Tom .... ) 8 4. Well I was born in the mountains, up where the snakes have legs, Where the hoot ~lI.s talk plain English, and the roosters lay square eggs. I shaved my beard and moustache, the morning I was born, And that night I beat up myoId man, and I drinked his rye and corn. (Refrain) \VeIl I'm a truthful fellow, they call me True-Blue Bill, I never told a falsehood, and you bet your life I never will. (This here's a country song) 1 decided I would take a ride, in a Iittle aeroplane, So I flew firhg over to Paris (that's in France), and I started home again. \Vhen I got halfway over, the dadgum motor balked, So I left the thing sitting up there, an' I got out and walked. (Refrain) Well I throw the morning paper, sir, my name is Jimmy Brown, An everybody knows me, I'm the newsboy of the town; \VeIl you can hear me holler "Extra," Sir, just a running up and dOlvn the street, \VeIl holes is in my britches an' no shoes is on my feet. My daddy was a drunkard, Lerd, or so my mama said, An that's why I'm out sellin' papers, tryin' to earn her bread. Once when I was ship\~recked, on islands in the sea, I was captured by the cannibals and tied up to a tree; They all was beatin' tom"toms, they got rather rough, An' they tole me I wouldn't make good steak, cause I I~as too Goddamned tough. (Refrain) 5. The guns of Ims has roared, and the bombs and shells has fa II'm , And the was clouds rumble as they roll, \Ve was soldiers in the fight, and we fought until we won, And my uniform's my dirty overhalls. This piece of land I stand on, is my battle field and home, And my hoe and my plOl~ is my gun, Clothes don't make no difference a'tall, we are workers, and fighters all, And my unigorm' s my dirty overhalls. Well I gave you my blood, and I gave you my sweat, an' I'll give you your bread and your wine, Fore I'll be any man's slave, I'll rot down in my grave, You can lay me down in my dirty overhalls. Well we come here to stay, and we'll stick here all our days, We'll keep marching in our dirty overhalls. 9 TAPE 2. Side 2. 1. Well the sun was gain' down, behind tatooed trees, An' the simple act of Hoah's trust, put diamonds in the seas, All because of phosphorus, there in quantity, As I dug you diggin' me in Mexico. There in the valley of Scorpio, beneath the cross of jade, Smoking on the seashell pipe, the gypsies had made, We sat and we dreamed awhile of smugglers bringing wine, That crystal-thought time, in Mexico. lVe were sittin; in a chair of bamboo, sippin' grenadine, Straining my eyes for a surfacing submarine, Kingdoms advance and the walk across my feet, I'm shaking in my seeds, in Mexico. Grasshoppers creaking in the jungle-velvet night, And microscopic circles in the fluids of my sight, 1 watch the native firls cut and trim the lamp A Valentino vamp, in Mexico. 2. All around a water tank, a waitin' for a train, A thousand mi les away from home, just a standin' in the rain, I walked up to a brakeman, just to give him a line of talk, He said, "If you've got money boy, I'll see that you dont walk." I haven't got a nickle, not a renny could I show, He said, "Get6ff, you'railroad bum," and he slammed the boxcar door. Well I got off in Texas, and that's. a state I dearly love, The wide open spaces all around me, and the moon and stars up above, Well nobody seems to want me, or to give me a helpin' hand, I'm on my way from Frisco, headed back to Alabam I , My pocket book is empty, and my heart is full of pain, I'm a thousand miles away from home, just a waitin' for a train. 3. Well I met a man named Campbell, he used to rob and ramble, An' he done everything that was dirt)' and lowdown, He \~as out tom-cattin' one night, started a big fight, A big policeman came and knocked him down; (Refrain) He's in the jailhouse now, he's in the jailhouse now; 10 Well Campbell broke j ail. one day, he decided to run away, But the big policeman met him at the train; He said, "I come fer you," and Campbell said, "This aint gonna do, For Campbell never, never was my name; (Refrain) She was poor, but she \~as honest, the victim of a rich man' s \~him, 4. When she met that Christian gentleman, Big ,Jim Folsome, And she had a child by him. (Refrain) An' its the rich that gets the glory, and its the poor that gets the blame, An' its the same the whole world over, And aint that a dirth, goddamned shamel Now he sets in the ligislatnre, makin laws for all mankind, While she roams the streets of Culman, Alabama, Sellin' grapes from her grape vine. (Refrain) Now the moral to this here story, is just don't ever take a ride, With that Christian Gentleman, Big Jim Folsome, An You'll be a virgin bride. (Refrain) A PDF transcript exists for this recording. Please contact an archivist for access. Professor John Burrison founded the Atlanta Folklore Archive Project in 1967 at Georgia State University. He trained undergraduates and graduate students enrolled in his folklore curriculum to conduct oral history interviews. Students interviewed men, women, and children of various demographics in Georgia and across the southeast on crafts, storytelling, music, religion, rural life, and traditions. As archivists, we acknowledge our role as stewards of information, which places us in a position to choose how individuals and organizations are represented and described in our archives. We are not neutral, and bias is reflected in our descriptions, which may not convey the racist or offensive aspects of collection materials accurately. Archivists make mistakes and might use poor judgment. We often re-use language used by the former owners and creators, which provides context but also includes bias and prejudices of the time it was created. Additionally, our work to use reparative language where Library of Congress subject terms are inaccurate and obsolete is ongoing. Kenan Research Center welcomes feedback and questions regarding our archival descriptions. If you encounter harmful, offensive, or insensitive terminology or description please let us know by emailing reference@atlantahistorycenter.com. Your comments are essential to our work to create inclusive and thoughtful description.