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Marty Raybon and Georgia Bluegrass

A tropical storm was threatening to spoil the weekend but bluegrass fans are a hearty bunch and not easily frightened by such things as torrential rains and gale force winds. No, the weekend was planned long before Hanna became an issue and nothing short of a hurricane could blow away the fried chicken, potato salad, and acoustic music planned for the Twin Oaks Festival in Hoboken, Georgia.

Besides, a name familiar to many South East Georgians was performing and some, including myself, had not seen Marty Raybon since he was a young man. He spent countless hours and multiple miles in the 1980s making music with his family in a Florida based group called American Bluegrass Express.

This is a picture from the The Casual Historian Blog

Back then, the group appeared at the Sand Hills Bluegrass Festival near Marianna, Florida, a short lived festival promoted by Mike and Danny Lipford. I was in the crowd the day American Bluegrass Express played and was amazed at the soulful, rich sound from Marty Raybon.

Later, that same night, I was in the parking lot listening to local pickers jamming around a campfire. It was about midnight when Marty and one of his brothers got out of their camper and walked over to the fire. Before long, they were singing tight blood harmony, the kind that sends chills down a spine when it is done right

Marty sang a George Jones song (I can’t remember which one) and it was as if George himself was sitting there singing, only better. In the fog of midnight, with only a guitar and a fire light and no one to impress or entertain, he sang bluegrass and country soul in its purest form. His talents made praise or applause seem irrelevant. It would have been like cheering for Rembrandt for each stroke of his brush. It was a night I will long remember.

I heard him plenty over the next few years when he left bluegrass music, joined the band Shenandoah and later recorded a bevy of hits such as “Church on Cumberland Road”, “Sunday in the South”, and “Next to You Next to Me”. But a few years ago, he decided to wander back to his roots and recorded a bluegrass album, “Full Circle.” It re-launched his bluegrass career.

It didn’t take a lot of prodding from our friends Larry and Deidra Thomas to convince me to head over to Hoboken for the weekend to see Marty Raybon. I was determined to see him perform again, regardless of Hurricane Hanna. Plus, the Thomas’s, who live in nearby Nahunta, had made all the arrangements for a perfect bluegrass weekend.

My brother-in-law, Woody, along with his 31-foot travel trailer, went with me to the festival. We arrived around noon Friday and spent a while setting up camp. Larry, who had met us in Waycross, showed us the way to the festival site then took us on a tour of Hoboken, population: 463. That took about a minute then we toured neighboring Nahunta, Georgia, population: 979, and that took all of two. Both towns seemed rich in southern culture; places where families work hard for what they have and cling close to their traditions. These are towns you would be happy to call home.

Both towns sit on the edge of the Okefenokee Swamp. Not only is Hoboken famous for the biannual bluegrass festival but it is also home to the Georgia State Sacred Harp convention. This is an old and traditional form of sacred music with roots that can be traced to 18th century England. No musical instruments are used at the gatherings.

Here’s an example from YouTube.com:

Back at the festival site, a culinary bouquet of odors continuously menaced the camping area; smoke drifting from grills, peanuts boiling in a kettle, potatoes in a fry daddy. It is easy to make friends when someone hands you a slice of pecan pie heaped with butter pecan ice cream or a chicken leg. Bluegrass fans are like that.

We spent a big part of Friday afternoon trying to set up one of those large screened enclosures that come in a very small box. The idea was to use the enclosure to separate the flies and mosquitoes from dinner. These contraptions, made in a third world country, are designed to make grown men of average intelligence appear even dumber than we are. We were actually forced to look at the directions which did very little to help us. Finally, Woody, who apparently has a higher IQ than Larry and I combined, figured it out.

I attend festivals for a lot of reasons. The stage show is certainly one of them. But there is much to be said about the reunions of old friends, parking lot picking, and covered dishes. The same faces keep showing up at the festivals making it as much a homecoming as a musical event.

Sleep comes hard at bluegrass festivals. Guitars and fiddles permeate the camp ground and the thump from the hound dog bass can be heard until almost dawn. But after a long day of traveling and weary from all the excitement, I crashed early to rest up for the long day of music on Saturday. I am sure I fell to sleep with my toe tapping. Woody claimed I actually snored the “Orange Blossom Special.”

By the second day of the festival, the crowd had grown even larger. There are about 800 RV camping spots at the Twin Oaks Park and almost all were filled. Add the local fans that drove in for the day and it made for a very big crowd.

This is a picture from the The Casual Historian Blog
I suppose Larry and Deidra are two of Marty Raybon’s most avid fans. We sat with them for the afternoon and evening show. Raybon’s performance was extraordinary and he covered a lot of traditional bluegrass songs, as well as hits from Shenandoah. He also sang a lot of songs he had written. It was almost impossible to hear him sing a sad ballad without tears welling up you eyes. Just ask Larry.

This is a picture from the The Casual Historian BlogMarty Raybon was everything I had remembered. Although he is a little bit older, his voice is even better, tempered from miles of pavement and life experiences. He had the crowd eating out of his hand and delivered a performance worth remembering.

I was honored to also get a chance to do some pickin with Robby Thomas my former co-worker here at WMBB.  Robby now works in Nahunta for a regional tele-communications company and had been in Kansas City on business most of the week.  After spending Saturday flying, he landed in Jacksonville around 8PM then drove to the festival site.  By the time he arrived, the stage show was over but the parking lot pickin was just getting underway.  He is a pretty darn good song writer and a good guitarist.  We didnt get to pick much but any pickin is better than no picking at all.

As for Hurricane Hanna, the occasional mosquito stirred more breeze than the storm. Its approach only added a different dimension to the weekend. We knew before we left that something big was brewing but it wasn’t Hanna. It was a reunion of friends, great music, and confirmation that the wonderful memory of a great artist was more than a time lapsed illusion. Marty Raybon had the same magic I remembered from the midnight campfire so long ago.

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Posted on Sep 19, 2008 - 01:09 PM by Larche Hardy
Page 1 of 1 pages

 

About Me

The life of any News Director is stressful most days... so, when the weekend rolls around I find myself on the back roads of our bountiful and beautiful part of the state looking for bluegrass music, interesting things to do, and, of course, fried chicken. I will try to share some of these "finds" with you. There are a thousand stories left to be told or simply remembered. Don't expect to find them all here; maybe just a little stroll down memory lane or maybe a little skewed insight into topical issues.
Larche Hardy,
News Director

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