{"id":486,"date":"2008-04-25T18:36:27","date_gmt":"2008-04-25T22:36:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/?p=486"},"modified":"2008-05-08T20:33:24","modified_gmt":"2008-05-09T00:33:24","slug":"old-songssketch-8","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/?p=486","title":{"rendered":"Old Songs….(Sketch #8)"},"content":{"rendered":"

photo-2-small.JPG<\/a> <\/p>\n

\u201cSing again, with your dear voice revealing
\nA tone of some world far from ours\u2026..\u201d<\/p>\n

—Percy Bysshe Shelley
\n____________________________________<\/p>\n

I hear them sometimes still, in my dreams. The beautiful haunting lilt of their soprano voices, echoing through the old farmhouse in the slanting deep-orange rays of the setting summer sun. <\/p>\n

The lyrics are clear in my mind. \u201cCome home, come home, it\u2019s suppertime.\u201d \u201cHold fast to the right.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll wade right in, to the River of Jordan\u2026.\u201d And many, many others.<\/p>\n

My sisters singing. They sang always. They sang openly, joyfully. For any reason or none. While cooking meals, doing dishes or doing the laundry. While milking in the barn or raking the yard or working in the garden. <\/p>\n

They sang from the heart. To lift their spirits, I suppose. And ours. <\/p>\n

In Aylmer, singing in four-part harmony was strictly verboten. Melody only. Because people might become proud and puffed up at how beautiful their voices sounded. That would be a sin. Couldn\u2019t chance it. Wait to get to heaven to hear perfect singing. Meanwhile, bear the cross below without complaint. And stifle your natural voice to conform to the \u201cno harmony singing\u201d rule.<\/p>\n

All singing was a cappella. No instruments. So it had always been. The forefathers had rejected musical instruments. What they proclaimed and decreed was gospel, about equal with the real one. Seemed to me that whatever the current leaders didn\u2019t like and wanted to forbid was always conveniently blamed on the poor forefathers, who of course were never present or able to defend themselves. If all I ever heard about them is true, they must have been a dour humorless lot. <\/p>\n

But I digress. Back to the musical instruments. Anyone caught with even so much as a harmonica was in serious trouble. No musical prot\u00e9g\u00e9s have ever emerged from the Aylmer community (with the possible exception of some of the Marner boys, and they moved away at a fairly young age).<\/p>\n

Even so, songs and singing were an important part of life. Early on, when very young, we were taught short simple German hymns. We belted them out in our childish voices with gusto: <\/p>\n

\u201cIch bin klein.
\nMein Hertz macht rein.
\nSol niemand drin vohnin
\nAls Jesus allein.\u201d<\/p>\n

My father, too, sang in his rich mellow baritone. Of an evening, when the smaller chil-dren were tired and drooping, he swept them onto his lap, and rocked them to sleep on the old hickory rocker on the living room floor. His deep, quivering controlled voice boomed the tender crooning verses of \u201cSweet and Low\u201d as the children drifted off. <\/p>\n

He told me once that he had lulled all his children to sleep when they were young, singing \u201cSweet and Low.\u201d Not a single child ever stayed awake on his lap through the final stanza. <\/p>\n

But the most memorable songs, as anyone raised Amish will attest, are the songs sung in church. Mournful, slow, pondering, mellow, beautiful, melancholy, swelling and eter-nally long. And stiflingly boring to the youth. <\/p>\n

Kind of like Gregorian chants, but unique in flavor and tone. It takes real skill to lead one.<\/p>\n

Most Amish churches use the \u201cAusbund,\u201d a collection of German hymns in continuous use now for longer than any in the world.<\/p>\n

The tradition of long, slow chanting songs began centuries ago, before the Amish church even existed. We listened wide-eyed to the tales. From the time when our Anabaptist forefathers were burned at the stake by the evil Catholics. Guess they had reason to be dour. <\/p>\n

They sang hymns as they were led to the public square and later as the fire crackled at their feet. As they sang, the story goes, the wicked worldly bystanders danced to the faster upbeat hymns. Stopping only after the flames and heat extinguished the song. To combat such blasphemy, our plucky forefathers developed the much slower tunes. So slow that dancing would be impossible. <\/p>\n

I have never been able to verify that such dancing actually occurred. But it made for fascinating legends. I believed them for years. <\/p>\n

Leading a song in church is an honor. All men are asked to lead at some time or other. The gifted lead perhaps a bit more frequently. If a man lacks ability, he is excused. <\/p>\n

One Sunday many years ago, when I was very small, a young married man had some serious problems while leading a song. He kept getting stuck, his chant drifting up when it should have dropped down, and stopping abruptly in mid-syllable. The other men all pitched in to help him out. It sounded like the great roaring of bulls. Around the second verse, the young man simply gave it up. His voice faded hesitantly into silence. The house was deathly quiet. He coughed and cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe someone else can take it on,\u201d he quavered, hanging his head in shame.<\/p>\n

Someone else did. It was the only time in my memory that such a thing happened.<\/p>\n

For years after that, when my siblings Rhoda and Nathan and I played \u201cchurch,\u201d the song leader among us would stop suddenly, wavering, and coughing and whooping dramatically.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe someone else can take it on,\u201d he would gasp, clearing his throat and looking stricken.<\/p>\n

One of the two remaining members of our little \u201ccongregation\u201d always chimed in, taking the lead. And on we\u2019d go, singing gibberish in loud tuneless voices. Children playing what they had seen and heard.<\/p>\n

Of all the old slow church songs, the Lob (pronounced Lobe, which means praise) Song is the unquestioned king. It is always the second song sung at every Amish church service everywhere, in all communities. A good honest rendering of the Lob Song will take up to twenty minutes. In some of the more conservative communities, probably longer. For four verses of seven lines each. <\/p>\n

\u201cO, Gott Vater, vir loben Dich.\u201d
\n\u201cOh, Lord, Father, we praise thy Name..\u201d<\/p>\n

The first syllable, \u201cOOOoooOOOooo,\u201d is stretched into a long wailing fluctuating chant by the leader. The congregation joins in after the first syllable of each line.<\/p>\n

We always looked with keen interest when a stranger attended church, because he would be asked to lead the Lob Song. It was established protocol. We judged the man, as we judged company at home on ability to lead in prayer, on his ability to stretch out the first syllables of the Lob Song. And on the tone and quality of his voice.<\/p>\n

Years ago, before my time, in Aylmer, a stranger attended church one Sunday. At Nicky Stoltzfus, the preacher\u2019s place. The stranger was from a very conservative, backwards community (probably had a mustache, even). No name was ever attached to the tale, so he remains anonymous. As was customary, he was asked to lead the Lob Song. He agreed, quite humbly, I\u2019m sure, and promptly launched into a long, slow drawn-out \u201cOOooOOoo.\u201d <\/p>\n

One of the youth suddenly had to \u201cgo\u201d out to the barn. He got up, walked out, did his business and returned to his seat on the backless bench where his peers sat, gaping. The stranger was just finishing the first syllable of the first line. He\u2019d stretched it out for the several minutes the youth was outside. <\/p>\n

The stranger\u2019s name was not legend, but the story was. I wasn\u2019t there, or was too young to remember, so I can\u2019t testify to the actual truth of the tale. The details may have been exaggerated just a bit. But I\u2019d guess the Lob Song took about forty minutes to sing that morning.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve led it. In church. At least a dozen times. I remember the first time. The elder, David Yutzy, announced the page number, 770. He swiveled on his bench to peer sharply at all the youth seated on the back benches. I knew my time was coming at some point soon. I scrunched over and looked at the floor. David scanned and scan-ned. He knew who he was looking for. His gaze settled on me. <\/p>\n

\u201cIra,\u201d he said in a low voice, but loud enough for all the room to hear.<\/p>\n

The time had come. I could refuse. No one would say anything. Or think badly of me. But I could do it, I knew. I\u2019d sung the Lob Song hundreds of times while doing chores in the barn or working in the fields when no one was listening. <\/p>\n

I chose to do what most did the first time they were asked to lead.<\/p>\n

\u201cStart it,\u201d I mouthed in a whisper. <\/p>\n

Not much of a singer himself, David got someone else, either my father or Old Gideon, his dad, to start it. I sweated. If it was too high, I wouldn\u2019t be able to stay on track. I\u2019d \u201cget stuck.\u201d<\/p>\n

Whoever started the song got it right. The right tone, the right pitch. Not too high, not too low. Everyone roared lustily through the first line. We reached the end. A split second of silence. My throat was dry, my hands clammy. And then I heard my own voice, strange and a bit shaky, rise and fall and soar again, leading the next line. Stretched out long, but not too long. I\u2019d gotten it right. I didn\u2019t get stuck. I could do it. <\/p>\n

And so I did. All four verses. For the next fifteen minutes.<\/p>\n

By the second verse, my tremors subsided. By the third, my shaky voice firmed, booming out boldly and confidently. By the fourth, I was an old, experienced hand, adding the occasional ornamental twist and flourish. Could\u2019a done it all day long.<\/p>\n

The old church tunes are integral to Amish heritage, history and identity. I don\u2019t miss them, or much of anything else from that lifestyle. But I think of them sometimes. And even hum a line or two. <\/p>\n

It\u2019s all part of who I was. But not who I am.<\/p>\n

If plans hold, I will once again hear the old church songs this coming Friday, May 2nd, at the wedding of my niece, Luann Yutzy and Larry Yoder. It will be good to hear the old wedding tunes. And the Lob Song. <\/p>\n

It will be good to sing along. To enjoy the melody and the ornamentation. I may even get to hear my father lead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cSing again, with your dear voice revealing A tone of some world far from ours\u2026..\u201d —Percy Bysshe Shelley ____________________________________ I hear them sometimes still, in my dreams. The beautiful haunting lilt of their soprano voices, echoing through the old farmhouse in the slanting deep-orange rays of the setting summer sun. The lyrics are clear in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-486","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/486","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=486"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/486\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=486"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=486"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.irawagler.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=486"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}