Railroad Songs & Ballads
Edited by Archie Green
Side A
1 CALLING TRAINS. Sung by an unidentified old train-caller of New Orleans, La., 1936. Recorded by John
A. Lomax at State Penitentiary, Parchman, Miss.
2 THE Boss OF THE SECTION GANG. Sung by Mrs. Minta Morgan at Bells, Tex., 1937. Recorded by John
A, Lota,
3 JERRY WILL You ILE THAT Car. Sung by Warde H. Ford of Crandon, Wis., 1939. Recorded by Sidney
Robertson Cowell at Central Valley, Calif.
4 LintnGc Track. Sung by Henry Hankins at Tuscumbria, Ala., 1939. Recorded by Herbert Halpert.
5 ROLL ON Buppy. Sung by Aunt Molly Jackson of Clay Co., Ky., 1939. Recorded by Alan Lomax at New
York, NeY,
6 Way OuT IN IDAHO. Sung with guitar by Blaine Stubblefield of Weiser, Idaho, 1938. Recorded by
Alan Lomax at Washington, D.C.
7 OH IM A JOLLY IRISHMAN WINDING ON THE TRAIN. Sung by Noble B. Brown at Woodman, Wis., 1946. Re-
corded by Aubrey Snyder and Helene Stratman-Thomas.
8 THE ENGINEER. Sung by Lester A. Coffee at Harvard, Ill., 1946. Recorded by Aubrey Snyder and Phyllis
Pinkerton.
9 GEORGE ALLEN. Sung with banjo by Austin Harmon at Maryville, Tenn., 1939. Recorded by Herbert Hal-
pert. ;
10 THe WRECK OF THE ROYAL PALM. Sung with guitar by Clarence H. Wyatt at Berea, Ky., 1954. Recorded
by Wyatt Insko.
11 TRAIN BiuEs. Played by Russell Wise on the fiddle and Mr. White on the guitar at Cherry Lake Farms,
Madison, Fla., 1936. Recorded by Margaret Valiant.
Side B
1 THE New RIVER TRAIN. Sung and played by the Ridge Rangers at Cincinnati, Ohio, 1938. Recorded
by Alan and Elizabeth Lomax.
2 THE TRAIN IS OFF THE TRACK. Sung by Mrs. Esco Kilgore of Norton, Va., 1939. Recorded by Herbert
Halpert at Hamiltontown, near Wise, Va.
3 GONNA Lay My HEAD DowN ON SOME RAILROAD LINE. Sung by Will Wright at Clinton, Ark., 1936. Re-
corded by Sidney Robertson Cowell.
4 I RopE SOUTHERN, I Rope L. & N. Sung with guitar by Merle Lovell at Shafter, Calif, 1940. Recorded
by Charles L. Todd and Robert Sonkin.
5 THe LIGHTNING Express. Sung by Jim Holbert at Visalia, Calif., 1940. Recorded by Charles L. Todd and
Robert Sonkin:
6 RAILROAD RaG. Sung with guitar and mandolin by Joe Harris and Kid West at Shreveport, La., 1940. Re-
corded by John A. and Ruby T. Lomax.
7 THE RAILROADER. Sung with guitar by May Kennedy McCord at Springfield, Mo., 1941. Recorded by Vance
Randolph.
8 THE T. & P. LINE. Sung by Mrs. Mary Sullivan at Shafter, Calif., 1941. Recorded by Charles L. Todd and
Robert Sonkin.
9 THE Dyinc Hoso. Sung with guitar by George Lay at Heber Springs, Ark., 1959. Recorded by Mary C.
Parler. :
10 THE Bic RocK CANDy MOUNTAINS. Sung with guitar by Harry McClintock at San Pedro, Calif., 1951. Re-
corded by Sam Eskin.
11 I'M GoIN’ HOME ON THE MoRNIN’ TRAIN. Sung by E. M. Martin and Pearline Johns of Alligator, Miss.,
1942. Recorded by Alan Lomax at Clarksdale, Miss.
Archive of Folk Song
The Archive of Folk Song in the Library of Congress has been since 1928 the chief repository in the
United States for field recordings of American folk music and folklore. Though its collections are
principally American, it also houses field recordings from many other areas of the world. From this
extensive collection the Library for a number of years has been publishing selected documentary
recordings for public purchase. These recordings focus upon the traditional music and lore of the United
States—Anglo-American, Afro-American, American Indian, and other cultural groups. Some of the
recordings, however, feature collections in the Archive of Folk Song of music and lore from abroad.
Pamphlets accompanying most of the Library’s series of long-playing recordings supply transcriptions of
the texts, historical background and stylistic analysis, and references to other publications.
To the people who made these recordings and the collectors who secured and preserved them we
owe a continuing debt of gratitude. Through their efforts and their generosity the Archive of Folk Song
has been able to preserve and disseminate the living voices and vital arts of the people.
IOI SAV—SPPII@d 2 Ssuog prosyiey
Cover drawing is from a Farm Security Administration photograph taken by Russell Lee of a railroad gang in
Lufkin, Texas, in April 1939. In the Prints and Photographs Division.
Library of Congress Card Number R67—3179rev ;
Available from the Recorded Sound Section, Music Division, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. 20540
Recording Laboratory AFS L61l
Railroad Songs and Ballads
From the Archive of Folk Song
Edited by Archie Green
Library of Congress Washington 1968
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number R67-3179
Available from the Library of Congress
Music Division, Recorded Sound Section
Washington, D.C. 20540
PREFACE
Few folksong collectors in the United States
have not encountered at least one railroad song, and
few scholars have resisted the temptation to com-
ment on the meaning of such material. For a cen-
tury and a half the iron horse raced across the
continent; this journey was as much in the imagina-
tion as it was over the land. When a train is seen in
oral or written literature and music as a mythical
steed it effaces human riders and handlers. Yet in
life each train is directed and cared for by muscle
and nerve. Hence, railroad lore fuses the sounds of
machines with the emotions of workers. Right-of-
way construction hands as well as operating and
maintenance craftsmen perceive locomotives, ca-
booses, roundhouses, or track-sections as other
mechanics view their own work sites. But a railroad
is more than a place to earn a living. Precisely be-
cause a train is an artifact in culture which can be
labeled “iron horse,” it is a highly important symbol
in folk tradition.
There may have been a legendary time when
only railroaders sang their songs and told their
stories. But today their lore belongs to all Ameri-
cans. No industrial lore is as widespread as that of
the rails; it seems as much the possession of editors
and teachers as of car knockers or hoggers. Conse-
quently, bankers and Boy Scouts feel quite familiar
with ‘“‘Casey Jones” and “John Henry.” We are all in
debt to authors Ben Botkin, Frank Donovan, Alvin
Harlow, Freeman Hubbard, and Archie Robertson
for a rich presentation of railroad folklore in their
books. We are also fortunate that the commercial
phonograph industry offered train songs to the pub-
lic almost from the inception of sound recordings.
In the 1890’s “A Night Trip to Buffalo” was popu-
lar in cylinder catalogs. In 1966 RCA Victor re-
leased a serious anthology, The Railroad in
Folksong.
One illustration of the ubiquity of railroad bal-
ladry tells something of its function even on the
contemporary scene. On Easter Sunday, 1967, the
Stoneman Family—an Appalachian string-band
group with deep roots in tradition—presented an all-
train-song concert to a tremendous television
audience. The Stonemans could well have per-
formed an all-sacred program, but perhaps their
sponsors felt that the train itself was a hallowed
enough object to be honored at Easter. Not only
were the numbers presented with verve, but Ernest
V. “Pop” Stoneman, the family patriarch and him-
self a former Norfolk and Western employee, added
a bit of oral wisdom to the program. He indicated
that firemen used to knot red bandanas around their
necks to keep from being burned by cinders before
diese] fuel supplanted coal. The Stonemans sang
folksongs; “Pop” related a folk belief to the televi-
sion announcer. All folksingers ought to be given a
similar opportunity to bedeck songs with custom
and belief, for every folksong deserves a protective
bandana as its own kind of pennant.
A disciplined collector asks folksingers questions
which go beyond songs. In a sense, the folklorist
“flags” a song almost as a signalman flags a train. A -
seemingly peripheral anecdote may reveal much
about a ballad’s background or meaning. Such con-
textual data are best presented when folksongs
appear in printed or sound-recorded anthologies.
Ideally, each collector should edit phonograph
albums following his own field work, for he can best
recall a singer’s stance or feelings. But an outside
editor who presents other fieldworkers’ songs labors
under a severe handicap. Although I am fortunate
enough to have gathered railroad lore from tradi-
tional singers, in this Library of Congress recording I
am working entirely with other collectors’ findings.
Hence, I open the brochure for L61 with a brief
comment on how the recording was put together.
The first curator of the Archive of Folk Song in
the Library of Congress was Robert Winslow Gor-
don, a man who knew railroaders and their songs
intimately. During the 1920’s Gordon conducted an
“old songs” column in Adventure Magazine. He was
. in constant touch with boomers who opened their
hearts to him. Gordon was the first folklorist to
collect a rail labor union song, “The ARU,” dating
from the Pullman strike of 1894. I desired to use
this song but, unfortunately, Gordon did not record
it, although he did make many cylinder recordings
before the Archive perfected portable battery and
electrically driven disc equipment in the 1930s.
Gordon’s successor in the Archive was John
Avery Lomax. His work is well represented on this
album. John Lomax and his son Alan gathered
enough material for many railroad records. They
used these songs in all their printed anthologies and
consequently played a significant role in populariz-
ing occupational material.
It has been the constant policy of the Archive to
encourage field workers not on the staff to contri-
bute their findings to the Library of Congress.
Hence this LP contains 20 songs, one chant, and one
instrumental recorded by 16 different collectors be-
tween 1936 and 1959. It is unlikely that any other
editor would have lighted on these exact songs; in
short “my” gathering is highly personal. It is based
on listening during 1965 and 1966 to a fair sample
of the thousands of available pieces deposited in the
Archive. However, I have excluded from this record-
ing those railroad songs already released on previous
Library of Congress phonograph records. (This list is
found in the appendix to the brochure.)
The items presented on L61 are intended to
represent a broad array of type and style as well as a
wide range in time and space. Nevertheless, not
every aspect of railroadiana is represented, Train-
men sang bawdy songs because such pieces were
fun, and also because so much rail construction
took place in workcamps isolated from “polite”
society. Scholars and scholarly institutions have not
yet learned to present occupational erotica in con-
text. Also excluded from this recording are songs
not in English. Every immigrant group to America
helped tamp ties, shovel coal, or load freight. The
Archive does contain a handful of occupational
songs in foreign languages, but to put together such
a railroad anthology today would require fresh
recordings of material that is little known. A final
and obvious omission from this recording is any
song of specific industrial relations (trade union or
tycoon) content. Although railroad workers were,
and are, highly organized and have made a substan-
tial contribution to laborlore, only one of their
union songs, to my knowledge, was deposited in the
Library of Congress. Similarly, only one deposited
ballad portrays a railroad entrepreneur in a heroic
role. Neither of these dual commentaries was avail-
able to me for this anthology.
Side One of the recording focuses on the con-
struction of the railroad and railroading as a craft.
Side Two features the symbolic values found in the
train: conquest, escape, resignation, love, death. If
one sees the iron horse as a romantic steed, not
unlike the cowboy’s bronco or an Indian’s pony, it
becomes possible to fuse into railroad lore such
disparate pieces as hobo and outlaw ballads, or
bawdy and gospel songs. In folk imagination trains
do lead to heaven and to hell as well as to Hoboken
and to Hackensack. It is ironic to contemplate that,
in song, trains probably will continue to travel to
the legendary abodes long after service has been dis-
continued to many earthly hamlets.
Not only did Americans create songs about the
construction of the railroad and about the uses to
which it could be put, but instrumentalists impro-
vised train imitations in which the performer him-
self became the clicking, pulsating juggernaut. The
mouth-harpist, fiddler, guitarist, or pianist was the
train; he brought the engine’s snort directly into his
cottage or boardinghouse room. One senses in listen-
ing to the great body of rail music that Meade Lux
Lewis’ classic piano solo, “Honky Tonk Train,” tells
as specific a story as the widely recorded “Wreck of
the Old Ninety-Seven.” Folklorists place narrative
ballads in quite separate categories from lyric instru-
mentals. Yet there seems to be a tracklike thread
which connects the countless rail narrative songs to
the most poignant blues and floating lyric folksongs.
I use the term “countless” deliberately. The
earliest identified railroad music is a piano piece
published at Baltimore in 1828, but no one knows
when or where the first railroad worker put together
his own song or train imitation. One can only specu-
late about the “first” railroad number—formal or
folk—which entered tradition. The melody, and pos-
sibly some stanzas, of “I’ve Been Working on the
Railroad” (“Dinah”’) goes back to pre-Civil War min-
strel days. “Poor Paddy Works on the Railway”
dates itself in the period 1841-47; it became a folk-
song at least a century ago.
A fascinating problem can be posed on the ques-
tion of the origin of American railroad songs. Many
welled directly out of the experiences of workers
and were composed literally to the rhythm of the
handcar. Others were born in Tin Pan Alley rooms
or bars. But regardless of birthplace, songs moved
up and down the main line or were shunted onto
isolated spur tracks. This recording, of course,
brings together numbers of complete anonymity as
well as recent compositions traceable to particular
sheet music printings or records.
By analogy this LP is a train made up of widely
different boxcars which are loaded with assorted
freight and consigned to scattered destinations.
Every rail fan will at one time or another have
observed a passing train and noted the now familiar,
now strange emblems: goats, beavers, leaves, trees,
maps, brandlike initials. Any anthology drawn from
a tremendous variety of field discs and tapes is
likely to be integrated only in the mind of the edi-
tor. But I do hope that each listener to this LP will
feel that I have coupled its numbers into a “train”
of thematic unity that catches something of the
locomotive’s pulse as well as the trainman’s heart-
beat.
Obviously, this brochure cannot develop full case
studies of included songs, let alone any overview of
the place of railroad song in American tradition. I
shall hold my headnotes mainly to discographical
and bibliographical references on the assumption
that listeners to this recording will search out com-
parative material. Where books or articles are cited
more than once I use the author’s last name only for
second citations. Where neither printed sources nor
recorded analogues are known to me I shall appreci-
Al—CALLING TRAINS. Sung by an unidentified
old train-caller of New. Orleans, La., 1936.
Recorded by John A. Lomax at State Peniten-
tiary, Parchman, Miss.
It is appropriate to open the Library of Congress’
first railroad recording with “Calling Trains” by an
old convict whose name is unknown. His place-name
sequence declaims the route of the Illinois Central’s
“Panama Limited.” No formal study of the tradi-
tion of calling trains is known to me. Each listener
may know something of parallel forms: street
vendor calls, circus roustabout chants, midway
barker spiels, tobacco auctioneer patter.
All out for Illinois Central.
New Orleans.
Ponchatoula.
Hammond.
Amite, Independence.
Fluker, Kentwood, Osyka, Magnolia, McComb.
Brookhaven, Wesson, Hazelhurst, Crystal Springs.
Terry, Byram, Jackson, Tougaloo, Ridgeland, Gluckstadt,
Madison, Canton.
Vaughan, Pickens, Goodman, Durant, Winona, Grenada.
Sardis, Memphis, Dyersburg, Fulton, Cairo, Carbondale.
Centralia, Effingham, Matoon, Champaign, Kankakee, Chi-
cago.
Train on Track Four.
Aisle Number Two.
A2—THE BOSS OF THE SECTION GANG. Sung
by Mrs. Minta Morgan at Bells, Tex., 1937.
Recorded by John A. Lomax.
The immigrant group which contributed most to
American folklore was the Irish. Although numer-
ous work songs are known from Irish broadsides,
pocket songsters, and folios, this piece about a
tough but honest workingman seems unreported as
a folksong. Mrs. Morgan told collector Lomax in
1937 that “The Boss of the Section Gang” was
ate such data from readers or listeners.
For help in editing this album, I wish to thank
Mrs. Rae Korson, Joseph C. Hickerson, and John E.
Howell of the Library of Congress, Music Division;
Mrs. Linda Peck of the University of Illinois, Insti-
tute of Labor and Industrial Relations; Norman
Cohen of the John Edwards Memorial Foundation,
University of California, Los Angeles.
carried to Texas by Kentucky boys about 45 years
ago. Her sense of time was accurate. During 1893 J.
R. Bell of Kansas City published “I’m Boss of the
Section Gang” by “Cyclone” Harry Hart. However,
I am uncertain that he was the song’s original com-
poser. Today Hart’s sheet music is a rare bit of
Americana, and it is unlikely that his song lives in
the memories of traditional singers.
1. I landed in this country
A year and a month ago.
To make my living at laboring work,
To the railroad I did go.
I shoveled and picked in a big clay bank,
I merrily cheered and sang,
For my work is o’er—you plainly see,
I’m the boss of the section gang.
2. Then look at Mike Cahooley,
A politician now,
Whose name and fame he does maintain
And to whom all people bow.
I’m the walking boss of the whole railroad,
For none I care a dang,
My name is Mike Cahooley
And I’m the boss of the section gang.
3. When the railroad president comes ’round
He takes and shakes my hand.
“Cahooley, you’re tough, you bet you’re the stuff.
You're an honest workingman.
They never shirk when you’re at work
Nor at the boss will flang.””
They shrink with fear when lam near,
I’m the boss of the section gang.
4. Then look at Mike Cahooley,
It’s the last of him you'll see,
For I must go to my darling wife
And happy we will be.
Come one and all, come great and small,
And give the door a bang,
And you'll be welcomed surely
By the boss of the section gang.
A3—JERRY WILL YOU ILE THAT CAR. Sung by
Warde H. Ford of Crandon, Wis., 1939.
Recorded by Sidney Robertson Cowell at Cen-
tral Valley, Calif.
Warde Ford’s fragment is important for its tune
which differs from the melody known through
Harry McClintock’s 1928 recording of “Jerry Go Ile
That Car. The ballad, a humorous elegy to a
section-gang foreman, is listed in Laws (H 30), but
other references are also available. The earliest
printed text known to me appears in The Flying
Cloud. The fullest text was sent to Robert W. Gor-
don in 1924 by R. M. MacLeod from Winnipeg,
Canada. It is found in the Gordon manuscript col-
lection at the Library of Congress, Archive of Folk
Song.
Harry McClintock, “Jerry Go Ile That Car” on The
Railroad in Folksong, Victor LPV 532.
M. C. Dean, The Flying Cloud (Virginia, Minn.,
1922), p. 26-27.
G. Malcolm Laws, Jr., Native American Balladry
(Philadelphia, 1964), p. 244.
You should see old Jerry in the winter time
When the fields are white with snow.
With his old soldier coat buckled ’round his throat,
To the section he would go,
To work all day in the boiling sun,
Or in the storms of snow,
And it’s while the boys were a-shimmin’ up the ties,
“Oh, it’s Jerry will you ile the car.”
A4—LINING TRACK. Sung by Henry Hankins at
Tuscumbia, Ala., 1939. Recorded by Herbert
Halpert.
Fortunately, Negro railroad construction songs
are well known through recordings and printed col-
lections. The building of any roadbed section
involved myriad skills: timber falling, brushing,
blasting, grading, tie and steel unloading, track lay-
ing and lining, spike driving, tie tamping. Each
detailed function called for a characteristic rhythm
that drew to itself hundreds of floating lyrics. Henry
Hankins’ “Lining Track,” which mentions the Bibli-
cal Noah as well as a worldly Corinna, is but one
example of hundreds of Library of Congress field
recordings for this genre. Excellent analogs by
Henry Truvillion are found on LC recordings L8 and
L52. A recent article by Ambrose Manning leads to
earlier readings. I cite but two commercial 78 rpm
discs to note material which preceded field record-
ings.
Texas Alexander, “Section Gang Blues,” Okeh
8498.
T.C.I. Section Crew, “Track Linin’,’ Paramount
12478.
Ambrose Manning, “Railroad Work Songs,” Tennes-
see Folklore Society Bulletin, 32:41-47 (June
1966).
1. God told Noah about the rainbow sign,
No more water but a fire next time.
Hey boys, can’t you line, hey boys, just a hair,
Hey boys, can’t you line, hey boys, just a hair.
All right, we’re movin’ on up the joint ahead.
2. Capt’n keep a-hollerin’ ’bout the joint ahead,
Ain’t said nothin’ about the hog and bread.
Hey boys, can’t you line, hey boys, just a hair,
Ho boys, line them over, hey boys, just a hair.
Better move it on down to the center head.
3. Capt’n keep a-hollerin’ about the joint ahead,
Ain’t said nothin’ ’bout the bowl and bread.
Hey boys, can’t you line, hey boys, just a hair,
Ho boys, line them over, hey boys, just a hair.
OP soul, let’s move ahead children.
All right, is you right? Yes we’re right.’
4. Gone to town, goin’ to hurry back,
See Corinna when she ball the jack.
Hey boys, can’t you line, hey boys, just a hair.
5. Allright, Capt’n keep a-hollerin’ about the joint ahead.
All right, children will you move?
Move on down ol’ soul,
Is you right children? Yes we’re right.
6. Goin’ to town, gonna hurry back,
See Corinna when she ball the jack.
Hey boys, can’t you line, ho boys, just a hair.
AS—ROLL ON BUDDY. Sung by Aunt Molly Jack-
son of Clay Co., Ky., 1939. Recorded by Alan
Lomax at New York, N.Y.
Hammer songs, seemingly, are the chief denomi-
nators in railroad folksong. Hammer lyrics initially
functioned directly as an integral part of the work
experience; at times they were extended into banjo
or fiddle pieces which, in turn, became standards in
hillbilly and bluegrass string-band repertoires. Occa-
sionally hammer lyrics merged into ballad stories
such as “John Henry.” Aunt Molly Jackson’s ver-
sion of “Roll on Buddy,” particularized to the L. &
N. Railroad, is a fine example of the family also
called “Nine Pound Hammer.” This song complex
crosses ethnic, regional, and occupational lines. Per-
haps the best known family offshoot is the popular
“Take This Hammer.” The Alan Lomax anthology
which I cite leads to additional references. The two
78 rpm discs noted are the first recorded under the
dual names for this hammer song group.
Charlie Bowman and His Brothers, “Role on
Buddy,” Columbia 15357.
Al Hopkins and His Buckle Busters, “Nine Pound
Hammer,” Brunswick 177.
Alan Lomax, The Folk Songs of North America
(New York, 1960), p. 284.
1. I been a-workin’ ten years on the L. & N. Railroad;
I can’t make enough money for to pay my board.
2. I went to the boss, I asked him for my time.
Oh, what do you think he told me, I owed him one dime.
3. Ah, roll on, buddy, and make up your time;
I’m so weak and hungry I can’t make mine.
4. I looked at the sun and the sun looked low;
I looked at my woman and she said, “Don’t go.”
5. Ah, some of these days you’ll look for me,
And I'll be gone back to Tennessee.
6. Yes, some of these days you’ll call my name,
And [ll be gone on an old freight train.
7. I looked at the sun and the sun looked high;
I looked at my woman she begin to cry.
8. Ah, roll on, buddy, don’t roll so slow,
I’m so weak and hungry I can’t work no more.
A6—WAY OUT IN IDAHO. Sung with guitar by
Blaine Stubblefield of Weiser, Idaho, 1938.
Recorded by Alan Lomax at Washington, D.C.
The two preceding items demonstrate a straight
functional work song and an extension of a work-
derived song into general repertoire. “Way Out in
Idaho” focuses on the tribulations of a particular
railroad laborer in first-person narrative form. The
ten-pound hammer driller on the Oregon Short Line
(Union Pacific) is now a ballad hero. Although no
case study is available, Austin Fife provides an
excellent list of references to “Way Out in Idaho” in
the context of a study of “The Buffalo Range.” Jan
Brunvand adds to the list. Both folklorists cite
Blaine Stubblefield’s excellent version of the ballad
transcribed by Ruth Crawford Seeger for Our Sing-
ing Country, the first published anthology to use
extensively Library of Congress field recordings as
sources for texts and tunes.
Jan Brunvand, ‘Folk Song Studies in Idaho,”
Western Folklore, 24:231-248 (October 1965).
Austin and Alta Fife, Songs of the Cowboys by N.
Howard (‘Jack’) Thorp (New York, 1966), p.
196, 218.
John and Alan Lomax, Our Singing Country (New
York, 1944), p. 269-270.
1. Come all you jolly railroad men, and I'll sing you if I can
Of the trials and tribulations of a godless railroad man,
Who started out from Denver his fortunes to make grow
And struck the Oregon Short Line way out in Idaho.
Way out in Idaho, way out in Idaho,
A-working on the narrow-gage, way out in Idaho.
2. I was roaming around in Denver one luckless rainy day
When Kilpatrick’s mancatcher stepped up to me and did
say,
“Tl lay you down five dollars as quickly as I can
And you'll hurry up and catch the train, she’s starting
for Cheyenne.” :
3. He laid me down five dollars, like many another man,
And I started for the depot—was happy as a clam.
When I got to Pocatello, my troubles began to grow,
A-wading through the sagebrush in frost and rain and
snow.
4. When I got to American Falls, it was there I met Fat
Jack.
They said he kept a hotel in a dirty canvas shack,
Said he, ““You are a stranger and perhaps your funds are
low,
Well, yonder stands my hotel tent, the best in Idaho.”
5. 1 followed my conductor into his hotel tent,
And for one square and hearty meal I paid him my last
cent.
Jack’s a jolly fellow, and you’ll always find him so,
A-working on the narrow-gage way out in Idaho.
6. They put me to work next morning with a cranky cuss
called Bill,
And they give me a ten-pound hammer to strike upon a
drill.
They said if I didn’t like it I could take my shirt and go,
And they’d keep my blankets for my board way out in
Idaho.
7. Oh it filled my heart with pity as I walked along the
track
To see so many old bummers with their turkeys on their
backs.
They said the work was heavy and the grub they
couldn’t go,
Around Kilpatrick’s dirty tables way out in Idaho.
8. But now I’m well and happy, down in the harvest camp,
And [Pll—there I will continue till I make a few more
stamps.
I'll go down to New Mexico and I’ll marry the girl I
know,
And [ll buy me a horse and buggy and go back to
Idaho. :
Way out in Idaho, way out in Idaho,
A-working on the narrow-gage, way out in Idaho.
A7—OH, PM A JOLLY IRISHMAN WINDING ON
THE TRAIN. Sung by Nobel B. Brown at
Woodman, Wis., 1946. Recorded by Aubrey
Snyder and Helene Stratman-Thomas.
During post-Civil War decades the Irish laborer
was a stock figure on the variety and vaudeville
stage. No matter whether he was portrayed as an
inept or inebriated hodcarrier, teamster, stevedore,
or gandy-dancer, he always managed to get through
his workday and was sometimes rewarded by an
idyllic return to old Erin’s shore. Nobel Brown sings
a fragment of a long piece usually titled ““Shaugh-
nessy” or “Braking on the Train.” Austin Fife sug-
gests that it is a “servile parody” of a cowboy
classic, “The Tenderfoot.” I feel that the railroad
number is older than the cowboy satire, but future
study will have to uncover the age of the section
hand turned brakeman. M. C. Dean prints a full
early text; Stewart Holbrook discusses the song;
MacEdward Leach offers a good tune.
Dean, p. 16-17.
Stewart Holbrook, The Story of American Railroads
(New York, 1947), p. 437.
MacEdward Leach, Folk Ballads and Songs of the
Lower Labrador Coast (Ottawa, 1965), p. 99.
1. Oh, I’m a jolly Irish lad, an’ O’Shaunessy is me name,
I hired out in section three to go winding on the train.
Oh, they sent me out to number ten, ’twas there my
duties did begin,
But where in the divil they all come in, it nearly
wrecked my brain.
2. Oh, they sent me out on the upper deck, ’twas there I
thought I’d break me neck,
I hung onto the ring bolts till me hands and feet grew
lame.
I could no longer stand upon me pins, ’twas then I
thought of all me sins,
An’ if God will forgive me Pll never again go winding on
the train,
3. Oh, they wanted me to turn the switch an’ I fired two
boxcars in the ditch,
An’ the brake, he called me a son of a witch while
winding on the train.
A8—THE ENGINEER. Sung by Lester A. Coffee at
Harvard, Ill., 1946. Recorded by Aubrey
Snyder and Phyllis Pinkerton.
Although “The Engineer” is directly related to
the parlor ballads of the 1880's, I have not encoun-
tered it in sheet music or pocket songster form.
Lester Coffee learned the ballad at about 1893 and
it was “an old song then.” Two Illinois geographical
clues (Harvard, place of collecting; Elgin Branch,
named in text) may indicate that the song was
locally composed or that it was an “outside” num-
ber localized to the area. Surely a rail fan will know
this ballad’s background.
1. Oh yes I’m getting old, dear Joe, and never can hope
again
To take my place on the engine deck and pull out the
Lightning Train.
It needs a younger head, I know, and a steadier hand
than mine
To carry the many precious lives in safety o’er the line.
2. More than thirty years of my life, dear Joe, has been
spent on the iron rail.
I’ve had my share of the danger, too, yet never was
known to quail.
I sometimes thought my time had come though I seldom
felt afeared,
For you know they used to reckon me a first class engi-
neer.
3. I never forget that awful night while running the thun-
der, Joe,
That Christmas Eve near the Elgin Branch, whoo, didn’t
it blow and snow.
I could not see the winding track nor neither the driver’s
turn,
The night was pitchy dark, Joe, and our headlight
wouldn’t burn.
4. I felt a strange and sudden fear as we ran across the fill.
My heart beat wild as we neared the bridge just beyond
the graveled hill.
When suddenly the sterling light beamed down along the
track
And I shouted “Jump for your life, Joe,” and I pulled
the lever back.
5. Pll never forget that awful shock, and it makes my
blood run cold
As I hear again the wintry air, the knells both engines
tolled.
They tolled for the dying engineer underneath the sterl-
ing deck;
They tolled for the many precious lives that went out in
that awful wreck.
6. They are tolling now in this heart of mine for my darl-
ing, my only child.
Oh God, when I saw her fearful fate no wonder that I
was wild.
When I saw her lying cold and dead with a smile upon
her brow,
A smile that I often see, dear Joe, when I think of my
darling now.
7. I never forget just what she said last time I took her
hand,
“Goodbye, papa, "til we meet somewhere,” I didn’t just
understand.
But it always seemed to me, dear Joe, since I lost my
little lamb,
As though the angels were watching me and she was one
of them.
8. But now I’m forever laid aside and will open the valves
no more,
But I'll watch and wait for the sound of the bell from
the train on the other shore.
Though old and crippled they’ll put me on board and
the run will be quick, dear Joe,
And [ll meet my long lost child again, the darling that
loved me so.
A9—GEORGE ALLEN. Sung with banjo by Austin
Harmon at Maryville, Tenn., 1939. Recorded
by Herbert Halpert.
“The Wreck on the C. & O.” (Laws G 3) is a
well-known and widely recovered native ballad
which stemmed from an accident on October 23,
1890, near Hinton, W. Va. Folksong collector John
Harrington Cox first placed the piece in historical
context; his research is cited by Laws. One of the
earliest serious studies using hillbilly records as
source material was written by Alfred Frankenstein
about the C. & O.’s heroic engineer, George Alley.
Fresh versions are still being added to this song’s
corpus. In 1966 Doc Watson recorded an “F.F.V.”
learned from his mother in Watauga County, N.C.
Doc Watson, “F.F.V.” on Home Again, Vanguard
VRS 9239.
Alfred Frankenstein, “George Alley,” John Edwards
Memorial Foundation Newsletter, 2:46-47 (June
1967); reprinted from Musical Courier (April 16,
1932).
Laws, p. 214.
1. Along come that F.F.V., the swiftest on the line,
Travelin’ o’er that C. & O. road twenty minutes behind
the time.
He pulled in at Sunville, his quarters on the line,
Just taking off strict orders from the signal just behind.
2. When he got to London, his engineer was there,
His name was Georgie Allen with his curly golden hair.
His fireman Jack Dickson was standing by his side
Awaiting for his orders and in his cab to ride.
3. Along come Georgie’s mama with a bucket on her arm,
“Be careful, George, my darling son, be careful how you
run,
If you run your engine right you'll get there just on
time,
Been a many a man who’s lost his life by trying to make
lost time.”
4. “Oh mother, I know your advice is good and later Pll
take heed,
But my ofl engine she’s all right—I’m sure that she will
speed.
O’er this road I mean to go with a speed unknown to all,
When I blow my whistle at the old stockyard they’d
better heed my call.”
5. Oh Georgie said to his fireman Jack, ““There’s a rock
ahead I see,
Oh there’s death awaiting to receive both you and me,
All from this engine you must go your darling life to
save
For I want you to be an engineer when I’m sleeping in
my grave.”
6. “No,” says George, “That won’t do; with you Ill stay
and die.”
“No,” says George, “That won’t do; Pll die for both you
and I.”
From this engine Jack did go—the river was rolling high,
He waved his hand at Georgie as the runaway train
dashed by.
7. Down the track she darted, against the rocks she
crashed,
The engine she turned upside down on Georgie’s tender
breast.
The doctors hastened to him says, ““George, my son, lie
still,
The only hope to seek for your life it would be God’s
holy will.”
8. His head was lying in the firebox door while the burning
flames rolled on,
His face was covered up in blood, his eyes you could not
See.
The last words that poor Georgie said was, ““Nearer my
God to thee.”
A10—THE WRECK OF THE ROYAL PALM. Sung
with guitar by Clarence H. Wyatt at Berea, Ky.,
1954. Recorded by Wyatt Insko.
The Southern Railway Wreck memorialized in
this homiletic ballad occurred on December 23,
1926, near Rockmart, Ga. The piece itself was com-
posed by Andrew Jenkins in Atlanta while news-
paper and radio reports were current; his daughter
Irene Spain (Futrelle) arranged the music. (Some-
thing of Mrs. Spain’s role as her father’s amanuensis
and as a music transcriber is made known in a
Western Folklore article by Judith McCulloh.) The
ballad was originally copyrighted by Polk Brockman
of Atlanta on February 14, 1927, and the next day
was recorded by Vernon Dalhart in New York. Sub-
sequently, he and fellow artists recorded it for other
companies. “The Wreck of the Royal Palm” is an
example of a “recent” song which entered tradition
directly from phonograph discs. Laws cites it as a
“native ballad of doubtful currency in tradition.”
Folklorists are trained to study song origin, dissemi-
nation, and variation but are not yet fully equipped
to delve into a “commercial” history. As a publica-
tion, “The Wreck of the Royal Palm” moved con-
siderably in four decades. During the depression
Polk Brockman transferred the ballad’s original
copyright to the M. M. Cole Company in Chicago
and the Rev. Andrew Jenkins renewed this claim in
1954. Upon the dissolution of Cole’s firm in 1964,
this piece, and others by Jenkins, was transferred to
the Westpar Music Company in New York.
Vernon Dalhart, ‘“‘Wreck of the Royal Palm,” Bruns-
wick 101.
Frank Luther, “Wreck of the Royal Palm,” Grey
Gull 4200.
Laws, p. 273.
Judith McCulloh, “Hillbilly Records and Tune Tran-
scriptions,” Western Folklore, 26:225-244 (Oc-
tober 1967).
1. On a dark and stormy night
The rain was falling fast.
The two black trains on the Southern road,
With a screaming whistle blast,
Were speeding down the line
For home and Christmas Day.
On the Royal Palm and the Ponce de Leon
Was laughter bright and gay.
2. The coming down the curve
At forty miles an hour,
The Royal Palm was making time
Amid the drenching shower.
There came a mighty crash,
The two great engines met,
And in the minds of those who live
It’s a scene they can’t forget.
3. It was an awful sight
Amid the pouring rain,
The dead and dying lying there
Beneath that mighty train.
No tongue can ever tell,
No pen can ever write,
No one would know but those who saw
The horrors of that night.
4. On board the new great train
The folks were bright and gay.
When like a flash the Master called,
They had no time to pray.
Then in a moment’s time
The awful work was done,
And many souls that fatal night
Had made their final run.
5. There’s many a saddened home
Since that sad Christmas Day, ?
Whose loved ones never shall return
To drive the blues away.
They were on the Royal Palm
As she sped across the state,
Without a single warning cry
They went to meet their fate.
=.
6. We’re on the road of life
And like the railroad men,
We each should do our best to make
The station if we can.
So let us all take care
To keep our orders straight,
For if we get our orders mixed
It'll surely be too late.
A11—TRAIN BLUES. Played by Russell Wise on
the fiddle and Mr. White on the guitar at Cherry
Lake Farms, Madison, Fla., 1936. Recorded by
Margaret Valiant.
The lyric folksongs and ballads on Side One of
this recording show railroading as a craft. “Train
Blues” is “workless’” but it, too, tells a story in the
animated voices of a country fiddle and guitar. In
addition, this “Train Blues” is particularly interest-
ing for it parallels in mood and form “The Orange
Blossom Special,” a related Florida composition of
the late 1930's. A discography of instrumental train
imitations would be a most useful tool in American
folk music studies. I cite “The Special” as well as
four other pieces on LP’s as examples of stylistic
variety in the genre.
Garley Foster, “Crescent Limited’? on The Carolina
Tar Heels, Folk Legacy FSA 24.
Meade Lux Lewis, “Honky Tonk Train” on Great
Jazz Pianists, Camden CAL 328.
Byron Parker’s Mountaineers, “C. & N.W. Railroad
Blues” on A Collection of Mountain Fiddle
Music: Volume 2, County 503.
The Rouse Brothers, ““The Orange Blossom Special”
on The Railroad in Folksong, Victor LPV 532.
Bukka T. White, “The Panama Limited’? on The
Mississippi Blues: 1927-1940, Origin Jazz Li-
brary OJL 5.
B1—THE NEW RIVER TRAIN. Sung and played by
the Ridge Rangers at Cincinnati, Ohio, 1938.
Recorded by Alan and Elizabeth Lomax.
A good engine hauls many cars; a good folksong
carries as great a load of symbols. Side Two of this
recording is a mixed “train”; ramblers, dreamers,
lovers, sinners. “The New’River Train” is a familiar
nonsense ditty, elastic in structure. The Ridge
Rangers could -crowd only two stanzas onto their
field disc while Vance Randolph netted ten stanzas
in the Ozarks (LC field recording AFS 5327A1).
The piece is an example of a traditional folksong
adopted by the music industry. Fields Ward’s family
learned it at Galax, Va., about 1895 (AFS 1371A2),
and Henry Whitter, who worked in a cotton mill at
New River’s edge in Fries, Va., first recorded it in
1924. Twelve years later an arrangement was copy-
righted by Maggie Andrews, a pseudonym for Car-
son J. Robison. This “Andrews’’ version was then
included by Harry McClintock in a 1943 anthology.
Country music enthusiasts who know “The New
River Train” in many guises will relish the swingy
treatment of the classic by the Ridge Rangers. They
performed at Cincinnati Music Hall, March 27,
1938, during the Ohio Valley Folk Festival, spon-
sored by radio station WCKY.
Henry Whitter, “The New River Train,’ Okeh
40143.
Sterling Sherwin and Harry McClintock, Railroad
Songs of Yesterday (New York, 1943), p. 35.
1. Leaving on that New River train,
Leaving on that New River train,
Same old train that brought me here
Is gonna carry away tomorrow.
2. Darling you can’t love but one,
Darling you can’t love but one,
Can’t love but one and have any fun,
Oh darling you can’t love but one.
Yea man, it sure does!
3. Darling you can’t love two,
Darling you can’t love two,
Can’t love two and have your heart be ‘true,
Oh darling you can’t love two.
B2—THE TRAIN IS OFF THE TRACK. Sung by
Mrs. Esco Kilgore of Norton, Va., 1939.
Recorded by Herbert Halpert at Hamiltontown,
near Wise, Va.
When Mrs. Kilgore sang “The Train Is Off the
Track’? for collector Halpert she identified it only as
a “silly little song.’’ Her fragment is a delightful
member of the family “Reuben’s Train.” One form
appeared in the Journal of American Folklore in
1909; more recent references are found in A Trea-
sury of Railroad Folklore. ‘““Reuben’’ demonstrates
the horizontal movement in lyric folksong for it
shares commonplaces with similar amorphous
pieces: “Train Forty-Five,” “Nine Hundred Miles,”
“The Longest Train,’ “In the Pines,’ ‘John
Brown’s Coal Mine,” “When You Hear That Whistle
Blow.” Although this complex demonstrates wide
musical variation, it is usual for “Train Forty-Five,”
“Nine Hundred Miles,” and “Reuben” to share the
tune used by Mrs. Kilgore. Of the numerous avail-
able recordings I cite only the first 78 rpm disc and
a reissued 78 on an LP album.
Fiddlin’ John Carson, “I’m Nine Hundred Miles
From Home,” Okeh 40196.
Wade Mainer, “Old Reuben” on Old-Time Southern
Dance Music: Ballads and Songs, Old Timey LP
102.
Louise Rand Bascom, “Ballads and Songs of West-
ern North Carolina,” Journal of American Folk-
lore, 22:244 (April 1909).
B. A. Botkin and Alvin Harlow, A Treasury of Rail-
road Folklore (New York, 1953), p. 464.
1. Oh the train’s off the track
And I can’t get it back,
And I can’t get a letter to my home,
To my home, to my home,
And I can’t get a letter to my home.
2. If you say so
Pll railroad no more,
Pll sidetrack my train and go home,
And go home, and go home,
Pil sidetrack my train and go home.
3. If you like-a me
Like I like you,
We’ll both like-a like the same.
4. Come on my love
This very day
I'd like for to change your name,
Your name, your name,
Oh Id like for to change your name.
B3—GONNA LAY MY HEAD DOWN ON SOME
RAILROAD LINE. Sung by Will Wright at Clin-
ton, Ark., 1936. Recorded by Sidney Robert-
son Cowell.
Many songs picture the railroad as a cause of
accidental death; few use the train as a tool in sui-
cide. I have not found an exact parallel to Will
Wright’s blues. However, his lead line, “Gonna Lay
My Head Down on Some Railroad Line,” appears in
the durable “Trouble in Mind Blues” composed in
10
1924 by Richard M. Jones. The line also is found in
narrative contexts such as “Joseph (Mica) Michael”
(Laws I 16), which is part of the “Casey Jones”
family. A particularly interesting ballad version was
recorded by Texas professor Newton Gaines who
made hillbilly records under the name, Jim New.
There is a good story hidden in the movement of a
single line from Gaines’ ballad and Jones’ classic
blues to Wright’s plaintive soliloquy, but it awaits
future study.
Thelma La Vizzo and Richard M. Jones (piano),
“Trouble in Mind Blues,” Paramount 12206.
Newton Gaines, “Wreck of the Six Wheeler” on
Native American Ballads, Victor LPV 548.
Laws, p. 254.
Spoken: Gonna lay my head down on some railroad line.
Gonna lay my head down on some railroad line,
And take some train to satisfy my mind.
Honey when I die, honey don’t you wear no black, hey, hey,
Honey when I die, honey don’t you wear no black,
Then if you do my ghost come sneaking back.
Yonder comes a train, yonder comes a train,
Comin’ down the railroad line,
Yonder comes a train, yonder comes a train,
Comin’ down the railroad line, hey, hey, comin’ through
buddy.
It takes some train to satisfy my mind.
My momma told me, my daddy told me too,
Says, “Son, everybody grin in your face,
You ain’t no friend to you.”
Spoken: That’s all.
B4—I RODE SOUTHERN, I RODE L. & N. Sung
with guitar by Merle Lovell at Shafter, Calif.,
1940. Recorded by Charles L. Todd and Robert
Sonkin.
Many venerable folksongs were collected in Cali-
fornia farmworker camps during the “Grapes of
Wrath” era. But migrants also cherished contempo-
rary hillbilly hits learned from discs by Jimmie
Rodgers, Gene Autry, Bob Wills, and other popular
western artists. Folksinger Merle Lovell identified
himself “from East Oklahoma’”’ to collectors Todd
and Sonkin, and he told them that “I Rode South-
ern, I Rode L. & N.”’ came directly from a Homer
Callahan disc. In turn, it was probably deliberately
composed in the Rodgers idiom, for the line appears
in his “Blue Yodel #7” recorded in 1929. Such
white, country blues freely drew on a fantastic
wealth of Negro tradition. Paul Oliver transcribed
texts of 37 race records with railroad images similar
to those used by Callahan and Rodgers.
Homer Callahan, “I’ve Rode the Southern and the
L. & N.,” Conqueror 8557, as well as Banner,
Melotone, Oriole, Perfect, and Romeo 351011.
Jimmie Rodgers, “Blue Yodel #7” on Jimmie The
Kid, Victor LPM 2213.
Paul Oliver, Blues Fell This Morning (London,
1960), p. 46-75.
1. Pve rode the Southern, I’ve rode the L. & N.,
I’ve rode the Southern, I’ve rode the L. & N.,
And the way I’ve been treated, I’m gonna ride them
again.
2. The way I’ve been treated, sometime I wish I was dead,
The way [ve been treated, sometime I wish I was dead,
But I’ve got no place to lay my weary head.
YODEL
3. [ve rode the Southern, I’ve rode the L. & N.,
I’ve rode the Southern and I’ve rode the L. & N.,
And the longest one I’ve ever rode is years now began.
4. P’ma rambling man, I ramble from town to town,
I’m a rambling man, I ramble from town to town,
Been looking for a-two blue eyes and now my baby’s
found.
YODEL
5. I gave her my watch and I gave her my chain,
I gave her my watch and I gave her my chain,
I gave her all I had before she let me change her name.
YODEL
BS—THE LIGHTNING EXPRESS. Sung by Jim
Holbert at Visalia, Calif., 1940. Recorded by
Charles L. Todd and Robert Sonkin.
The theme of the stern conductor assisting a
little boy or girl without fare to get home, to reach
a dying parent, or to beg a governor’s pardon for a
parent was widely used in Tin Pan Alley songs.
Common titles for parallel items are usually “The
Lightning Express” and “The East Bound Train.”
Variant titles for each are “Please Mr. Conductor”
and “Going for a Pardon.” J. Fred Helf and E. P.
11
Moran composed “Please, Mr. Conductor, Don’t Put
Me Off the Train” in 1898 when it was published by
Howley, Haviland & Company. In 1925 Triangle
Music published sheet music for “The Lightning
Express” which it attributed to E. V. Body (a code
name for a traditional source). The fact of popular
song-folksong interplay is well known; it can be doc-
umented by a study of this complex. Vance Ran-
dolph prints four texts; I cite two early recordings
and an available LP.
Blue Sky Boys, “The Lightning Express’’ on Blue
Sky Boys, Camden CAL 797.
Nelstone’s Hawaiians, “North Bound Train,” Victor
40065 [‘East Bound Train” .
Ernest Thompson, “The Lightning Express,” Co-
lumbia 145.
Vance Randolph, Ozark Folksongs (Columbia, Mo.,
1950), vol. 4, Pp. 184-187.
Spoken: The Lightning Express.
1. Oh, the Lightning Express from the depot one night
It started on its way,
And all the people that boarded that train,
They seemed to be happy and gay. ~~
2. Except a little boy set on a seat by himself
A-reading a letter he had.
It was plain to be seen from the tears in his eyes
Its contents is what made him sad.
3. The strange conductor he started his train”
And takin’ the tickets of everyone there,
And when he reached the side of the boy
He briefly commanded his fare.
4. “T’ve got no money to pay my way
But I'll pay you back some day.”
“Tl put you off at the next station,”’ says he.
These words the boy did say:
5. “Oh, please, Mr. Conductor,
Don’t put me off of this train,
For the only friend that I ever had
Is waiting for me in pain.
They expectin’ her to die of a moment
And may not live through the day
I want to kiss mother goodby, sir,
Before God takes her away.”
6. “Mother was sick when I left home
And needed a doctor’s care.
I come to your city employment for work
But couldn’t find none anywhere.”
Note: The following lines sung by Mr. Holbert were not
included on the original recording, but were noted by the
collectors Todd and Sonkin in their field notes.
And a little girl setting on a seat close by
Said, ‘‘To put this boy off is a shame.”
And takin’ a hat and a collection she made,
And paid this boy’s fare on the train.
“Much obliged to you misses for your kindness to me,”
“You're welcome, you need never fear.”
And every time the conductor passed there
These words would ring in his ear. . .
B6—RAILROAD RAG. Sung with guitar and man-
dolin by Joe Harris and Kid West at Shreveport,
La., 1940. Recorded by John A. and Ruby T.
Lomax.
When ragtime piano style became an integral part
of American popular music, many rags and rag-like
pieces entered tradition. Frequently, the transition
was difficult to trace because ragtime itself drew
heavily on folk music. “That Railroad Rag”’ illus-
trates one sequence in this process. Nat Vincent
wrote the words, Ed Bimberg the music and it was
published by Head Music Company on April 3,
_1911. It was recorded soon after by Walter Van
Brunt and other popular artists. In 1940 Joe Harris
and Kid West could tell collector Lomax only that
the song was about 35 years old. In 1947 MacEd-
ward Leach encountered a “railroad rag’ echo
worked into a “Southern Jack” lyric fragment.
Walter Van Brunt, “That Railroad Rag,’ Victor
16876.
MacEdward Leach and Horace Beck, “Songs from
Rappahannock County, Virginia,’ Journal of
American Folklore, 63:282 (July 1950).
1. Have you ever heard about that railroad rag?
Oh, oh, oh, that’s a joyful gag.
See that engine comin’ round the curve,
Ah, ah, ah, how that engine did swerve.
The engine does a-swervin’ with peculiar strain,
’Round my heart cause I feel a pain
Everybody on the train—they caught the gag,
Everybody wanna sing the railroad rag.
2. Oh, oh, that railroad rag,
Ah, ah, that railroad rag.
It’s so entrancing, hon,
It will make you fall asleep in Fargo and you'll wake up
in Chicago—
Hear that engine hum,
12
That train is goin’ some,
Here come that choo, choo, choo, choo, choo, toot
toot—
That railroad rag.
3. Oh, that railroad rag,
Ah, ah, that railroad rag.
It’s so entrancing, hon,
It will make you fall asleep in Fargo and you'll wake up
in Chicago—
Hear that engine hum,
That train is goin’ some,
Here come that choo, choo, choo, choo, choo, toot
toot—
That railroad rag.
B7—THE RAILROADER. Sung with guitar by May
Kennedy McCord at Springfield, Mo., 1941.
Recorded by Vance Randolph.
In his discussion of “The Roving Gambler”
(H 4), Laws notes that its “variant forms... are
legion, and it has become almost inextricably
entangled with other folksongs.” Ballad scholar H.
M. Belden’s treatment (cited in Laws) of this
complex under the title “The Guerrilla Boy” is
especially rich in displaying the fantastic network of
variation a folksong can achieve. Belden traces both
gambler and guerrilla to mid 19th-century British
broadsides of “The Roving Journeyman.” The basic
theme is a young man’s boast of amatory success,
but one of the song’s derivatives is built around the
pattern of a girl’s stance—acceptance or rejection—in
marriage. I do not know how early or under what
circumstance the “I would not, I would, marry”
formula was grafted onto “The Roving Gambler”
tree, but in 1907 “A Railroad Boy” was composed
by C. B. Ball and published by the Jaberg Music
Company in Cincinnati. Ball may well have put his
stamp on an item known to him traditionally.
Until more is learned of the “I won’t marry” role
in the gambler-journeyman family, it is best to
state only that May Kennedy McCord’s “The
Railroader” is close to the Russ Pike version on LC
recording L20, and that both are short forms of
Ball’s 1907 piece. I cite but one early recording
which employs a melody distinct from Mrs.
McCord’s.
John Ferguson, “Railroad Daddy,” Challenge 159.
Botkin, p. 465: transcription of Russ Pike, “A
Railroader for Me” on Anglo-American Songs
and Ballads, ed. Duncan Emrich, Library of
Congress AAFS L20.
Laws, p. 231.
1. I would not marry a farmer,
He’s always in the dirt.
But I would marry an engineer
Who wears a striped shirt.
A railroader, mother, a railroader,
A railroader for me.
If ever I marry in all my life
A railroader’s bride I'll be.
2. I would not marry a blacksmith,
He’s always in the black.
But I would marry an engineer
Who puils the throttle back.
A railroader, mother, a railroader,
A railroader for me.
If ever I marry in all my life
A railroader’s bride I'll be.
B8—THE T. & P. LINE. Sung by Mrs. Mary Sullivan
at Shafter, Calif., 1941. Recorded by Charles L.
Todd and Robert Sonkin.
Mrs. Mary Sullivan from Warm Springs, Tex., was
one of the best folksingers encountered in Cali-
fornia’s Farm Security Administration camps on the
eve of World War II. Her “T. & P. Line” was unfa-
miliar to me until, to my pleasure, I “discovered”’ it
while editing this recording. In addition to her num-
ber an Arkansas tape made during 1954 by Virgil
Lane was available to me (AFS 11894A40). The
first transcription of the piece in a folksong collec-
tion reports it as a Texas cowboy item carried to
Utah. As frequently happens in searching for song
history one must turn to commercial records.
Eugene Earle, president of the John Edwards
Memorial Foundation, supplied me with tape copies
of two discs related to the song collected in Cali-
fornia, Arkansas, and Utah. Earle’s tape whetted my
curiosity, for one record indicated that composer’s
credits were shared by Almoth Hodges and Bob
Miller. The former is unknown; the latter is well
known, and Robert Shelton marks his role. Re-
cently, Dean Turner, a Texas singer “re-wrote”
“The T. & P. Bum” from his memory of hearing it
in the late 1920’s, and recorded it for a current
folk-country label.
A comparison of the seven “T. & P.” songs
known to me reveals considerable variation in text,
13
and perhaps some confusion with respect to the rail-
road’s name. Collectors Todd and Sonkin heard “T.
& P.,” but astute listeners to Mrs. Sullivan’s rendi-
tion might concur with the person who transcribed
the Hodges-Miller piece for copyright registration
(December 28, 1929) by hearing “‘T. M. P. Line” in
some of the stanzas. However, no western line with
these initials can be found in standard railroad refer-
ences. It is possible that Mrs. Sullivan and Hodges
either learned or conceptualized “‘T. M. P.”’ (or even
“T, N. P.”’) instead of the famous Texas & Pacific
abbreviation, but we lack any statements from the
performers which would indicate their intent.
Almoth Hodges with Bob Miller’s Hinky Dinkers,
“The Hobo from the T. & P. Line,’ Brunswick
399.
Clayton McMichen, “Bummin’ on the I. C. Line,”
Varsity 5097.
Dean Turner, “The T. & P. Bum’? on Dean Turner
and His Guitar, Bluebonnet BL 102.
Rocky Mountain Collection (Salt Lake City, 1962),
p223:
Robert Shelton and Burt Goldblatt, The Country
Music Story (Indianapolis, 1966), p. 188.
1. I left Beard one beautiful night,
The stars in the heavens were shining bright.
I was riding the bumpers which suited me fine,
Much better than the handouts on the T. & P. Line.
2. I landed in Wellford about three p.m.
The cop watched me and I watched him,
I made him no effort, I give him no sign
That I had been bumming on the T. & P. Line.
3. I decided to dress up in style,
Not look like a bummer, no, not by a mile.
Rare back on my budget give each man a dime
And that would beat bumming on the T. & P. Line.
4. A ten dollar suit and a five dollar hat,
A high standing collar and a flying cravat,
A new pair of boots—how the leather did shine,
Much better than the handouts on the T. & P. Line.
5. I met up with a man by the name of Will Wright,
He says, “I will hire you if you will work right.”
“Well, I will work right and put in good time.”
Much better than the handouts on the T. & P. Line.
6. I got in the wagon and home with him went,
The work he gave me—God to me had sent.
The work it was easy and it suited me fine,
Much better than the handouts on the T. & P. Line.
7. Will Wright had a daughter at the age of sixteen,
The fairest and prettiest that ever I’ve seen.
And when I was with her I was always on time,
Much better than the handouts on the T. & P. Line.
8. Me and Ethel begin to chat,
I helped gather eggs, do this and do that.
Her kisses were sweet and her features was fine,
Much better than the handouts on the T. & P. Line.
9. I was called to the office, to the office one day,
Will Wright says, “What’s this I hear the folks say?
They say you’re a bummer all dressed up for blind,
That you have been bumming on the T. & P. Line.”
10. “Well, I don’t know as that concerns you,
I do all the work you require me to do.
If my work it don’t suit you, just give me my time,
And Pll remain bumming on the T. & P. Line.”
11. I went by the house to bid Ethel farewell,
The grief and the sorrow no tongue can ne’er tell.
There were tears in her eyes and so were in mine,
She says you’re no bummer on the T. & P. Line.
12. I struck out right down the highway,
I could think of nothing but Ethel that day.
I love her till yet, and I’ll see her some time
If I have to bum my way on the T. & P. Line.
B9-THE DYING HOBO. Sung with guitar by
George Lay at Heber Springs, Ark., 1959. Re-
corded by Mary C. Parler.
It is virtually impossible to separate hobo and
railroad folklore. Listeners who feel the intensity of
George Lay’s spoken introduction to “The Dying
Hobo” may want to search out books by Nels
Anderson or George Milburn on the itinerants’ sub-
culture. This ironic ballad, a parody of the poem,
“Bingen on the Rhine,” is extremely widespread
and well documented in Laws (H 3). However, there
is no available study of the many related industrial
or occupational songs which derived either from
“The Dying Hobo” or descended directly from the
parent poem, although William Wallrich has orga-
nized a fine array of Air Force parodies.
Laws, p. 231.
William Wallrich, Air Force Airs (New York, 1957),
p. 2152239,
Spoken: My name’s George Lay. I picked up this song
along with several others in the hobo jungles in the late
°30’s when we was trying to scram around over the country
14
and find a dime which is hard to do and is a lot harder to
keep it after you found it. There’s a lot of guys along there
that—a—the ink was still wet on diplomas from their col-
leges and there’s a lot of guys that had never been inside of
a school. ‘Bout the only entertainment we had were these
old songs at night. Now I don’t know what the name of this
One is—it’s just one they used to sing a lot.
1. Just out of San Francisco one cold December day,
Beneath an eastbound boxcar a dying hobo lay.
His comrade stood beside him, his hat was in his hand,
For he knew that his old buddy was goin’ to a distant
land.
2. “Go tell my girl in Frisco no longer will I roam,
I’ve caught an eastbound boxcar and I’m on my way
back home.
I’m goin’ to a better land where you don’t have to
change your socks,
Where beer and foam come trickling down the rocks.”
3. The dying hobo closed his eyes and drew his last breath,
His comrade stole his coat and hat and kept on headin’
West.
B10—THE BIG ROCK CANDY MOUNTAINS. Sung
with guitar by Harry McClintock at San Pedro,
Calif., 1951. Recorded by Sam Eskin.
This colorful fantasy seems a perfect sequel to
“The Dying Hobo” for it sums up one dream of the
hereafter. The song has various levels of meaning
which are discussed by John Greenway. It is likely
that the piece was in tradition before 1906, for in
that year a version by Marshall Locke and Charles
Tyner was published by the Rock Candy Music
Company in Indianapolis. The story of “The Big
Rock Candy Mountains” has not been written nor is
Harry McClintock’s role in disseminating it fully
known. Collectors will enjoy comparing this 1951
rendition with Mac’s original recording of 1928.
Folklorists knew McClintock as a gifted singer-
composer. Railroaders recall him as a boomer poet,
entertainer, and recording star who used the moni-
ker “Haywire Mac.” Freeman Hubbard’s obituary to
his friend ends with a stanza from “The Big Rock
Candy Mountains.”
Harry McClintock, “The Big Rock Candy Moun-
tains,” Victor 21704.
John Greenway, American Folksongs of Protest
(Philadelphia, 1953), p. 197-204.
Freeman Hubbard, Railroad Avenue, rev. ed. (San
Marino, Calif., 1964), p. 431-433.
1. One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fire was burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking.
And he said, “‘Boys I’m not turning,
I’m headed for a land that’s far away,
Beside the crystal fountains,
So come with me, we’ll go and see
The Big Rock Candy Mountains.”
. In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
There’s a land that’s fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes,
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty,
And the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees,
And the cigarette trees,
And the lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
. In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs,
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth,
And the hens lay softboiled eggs.
There the farmer’s trees are full of fruit,
And the barns are full of hay,
And I’m bound to go
Where there ain’t no snow,
And the rain don’t fall,
And the wind don’t blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
. In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks,
And the little streams of alcohol
Come a-trickling down the rocks.
There ain’t no shorthandled shovels,
No axes, spades, or picks,
And I'm bound to stay
Where they sleep all day,
Where they hung the Turk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
. In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the jails are made of tin,
And you can walk right out again
As soon as you are in.
Why the brakemen have to tip their hats,
And the railroad bulls are blind,
There’s a lake of stew,
And a gin lake, too,
You can paddle all around ’em
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
15
Bl1-I’M GOING HOME ON THE MORNING
TRAIN. Sung by E. M. Martin and Pearline
Johns of Alligator, Miss., 1942. Recorded by
Alan Lomax at Clarksdale, Miss.
During the first quarter of the 19th century
when the American camp meeting spiritual was
shaped, the locomotive was still a little wood burner
driving through a wilderness. Early revivalists de-
nounced railroads as the Devil’s invention or Sab-
bathbreakers. But, in time, preachers turned to the
train image to replace Biblical chariots and vessels.
The railroad itself ‘““entered”’ hundreds of new, beau-
tiful sacred songs, and today we cherish this heri-
tage. “I’m Going Home on the Morning Train’’ is
known in white and Negro tradition. Newman White
encountered the stanza in various Negro religious
songs while teaching at Auburn, Ala., in 1915.1 cite
his collection as well as three LP recordings which
illustrate variation in the song.
R. C. Crenshaw and Congregation, “I’m Goin’ Home
on the Morning Train” on Negro Church Music,
Atlantic 1351.
Molly O’Day, “I’m Going Home on That Morning
Train” on Molly O'Day Sings Again, Rem LP
1001.
Dock Reed, “I’m Going Home on the Morning
Train” on Negro Folk Music of Alabama:
Volume V, Spirituals, Folkways FE 4473.
Newman I. White, American Negro Folk Songs
(Cambridge, 1928), p. 60-63.
1. Get right church, and let’s go home,
Get right church, and let’s go home,
Get right church, get right church (have mercy),
. Get right church, and let’s go home.
2. I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train (on the mornin’
train, my father),
I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train (my Lordy)
I’m goin’ home (have mercy), I’m goin’ home (keep
travelin’),
I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train.
3. The evenin’ train may be too late (might be too late, my
brother),
Evenin’ train may (might) be too late (oh Lordy),
The evenin’ train, the evenin’ train,
Evenin’ train may be too late.
4. I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train (the mornin’ train),
I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train,
I’m goin’ home, I’m goin’ home,
I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train.
5. I see trouble down the road (down the lonesome toad,
so lonesome),
I see trouble down the road (my Lordy),
I see trouble, I see trouble,
I see trouble down the road.
6. Oh, get right church, and let’s go home,
Get right church, and let’s go home (my Lordy),
16
Get right church, get right church (have mercy),
Get right church, and let’s go home.
. I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train (the mornin’ train,
have mercy),
I’m goin’ home on the mornin’ train (my Lordy),
I’m goin’ home, I’m goin’ home,
I’m goin’ home on the morning train.
L2
3
L8
L16
L20
L21
L29
APPENDIX
A LIST OF RAILROAD SONGS AVAILABLE ON OTHER LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
RECORDS
Anglo-American Shanties, L ric Songs, Dance
Tunes, and Spirituals.
Roll on the Ground. Sung with 5-string
banjo by Thaddeus C. Willingham.
John Henry. Played by Wallace Swann and
his Cherokee String Band, with square
dancing.
The Train. Played on harmonica by Chub
Parham with clogging.
Afro-American Spirituals, Work Songs, and
Ballads.
Run Old Jeremiah. Sung by Joe Washington
Brown and Austin Coleman.
John Henry. Sung by Arthur Bell.
Negro Work Songs and Calls.
Unloading Rails. Called by Henry Trv-
villion.
Tamping Ties. Called by Henry Truvillion.
Hammer, Ring. Sung by Jesse Bradley and
group.
The Rock Island Line. Sung by Kelly Pace,
Charlie Porter, L. T. Edwards, Willie Hub-
bard, Luther Williams, Napoleon Cooper,
Albert Pate, and Willie Lee Jones.
Songs and Ballads of the Anthracite Miners.
On Johnny Mitchell’s Train. Sung by Jerry
Byrne.
Anglo-American Songs and Ballads.
A Railroader for Me. Sung with guitar by
Russ Pike.
Anglo-American Songs and Ballads.
I Wish I Was a Mole in the Ground. Sung
with banjo by Bascom Lamar Lunsford.
Heavy-Loaded Freight Train. Played on
5-string banjo by Pete Steele.
Songs and Ballads of American History and of
the Assassination of Presidents.
Zolgotz (White House Blues). Sung with
5-string banjo by Bascom Lamar Luns-
ford.
L30 Songs of the Mormons and Songs of the West.
Echo Canyon. Sung by L. M. Hilton.
The Utah Iron Horse. Sung by Joseph H.
Watkins.
L50 The Ballad Hunter, Part IV, Rock Island
Line: Woodcutter’s Songs and Songs of Prison
Life.
The Rock Island Line. Sung by Kelly Pace
and group.
John Henry. Sung by Arthur Bell.
L52 The Ballad Hunter, Part VI, Spirituals: Reli-
gion Through*Songs of the Southern Negroes.
If I Got My Ticket, Lord. Sung by Jim
Boyd.
The Ballad Hunter, Part VIII, Railroad Songs:
Work Songs for Rail Tamping and Track Lay-
ing.
Can’t YouLine’Em? Sung by group of eight
men.
Track Laying Holler. Sung by Henry Truvil-
lion and group.
Wake Up Call. Sung by Henry Truvillion.
Track Calling. Sung by Henry Truvillion.
The Dallas Railway. Sung by Will Rose-
borough, Will Brooks, H. Davis, and Jess
Alexander.
No More, My Lord. Sung by group of men.
Steel Laying Holler. Sung by Rochelle
Harris.
Pauline. Sung by Allen Prothero.
L53 The Ballad Hunter, Part X, Sugar Land,
Texas: Convict Songs From a Texas Prison.
Little John Henry. Sung by James (Iron
Head) Baker.
Shorty George. Sung by James (Iron Head)
Baker.
L59 Negro Blues and Hollers,
Depot Blues. Sung with guitar by Son
House.
L60 Songs and Ballads of the Bituminous Miners.
The Dying Mine Brakeman. Sung by Orville
J. Jenks.
INS
s of the Section Gang
) F
ill You Ile That Ca
AFSL 61A
A4. Lining Track (Ho, Boy, Can’t
You Line?)
AS. Roll on Buddy
A6. Way Out in Idaho
A7. Oh i'mA Joily Irishman Winding
on the Train
A8. The Engineer
AS. George Allen
Ai0. The Wreck of the Royal Palm
A11. Train Blues
From the
ARCHIVE OF FOLK SONG
Edited by Archie Green eo
Bi. The New River Train
B2. The Train is Off the Traci
B3. Gonna Lay My Head Down on
Some Railroad Line
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