Findin harmony On The Stormy Streets - Townsville Bulletin, October 1, 2005
As the world again reels from images of devastation and flooding from Hurricane Rita which swept through southern America this week, it's hard to believe it was only a month ago that Townsville Bulletin journalist DINAH KENNEDY was fleeing the menacing wrath of Hurricane Katrina that tore through the colourful city of New Orleans.
I left a piece of my heart on the streets of New Orleans the night our 44-strong choir tried to ward off the fierce fury of Hurricane Katrina with soaring harmonies. And it was ironic that one of the strongest songs in our extremely new and raw repertoire was the gospel classic The Storm Is Passing Over. But what was a bunch of Australians and New Zealanders doing singing on the streets of NewOrleans as one of the worst storms in America's history gathered its malevolent forces a few hundred miles away in the Gulf of Mexico? Our group had first come together just over 24 hours before to start an amazing three-week journey through the deep south exploring the heart and soul of gospel music country. The plan was to form a choir under the direction of a cappella gospel expert Tony Backhouse of Sydney and visit churches and other centres to experience the raw energy of this powerful genre of music that was born of the slave trade.
Our group had come from all walks of life. Most were strangers and the only thread that bound us was our love of singing in a group, producing glorious harmonies together. Earlier that daywehad been advised to leave New Orleans because of the menacing threat of Hurricane Katrina but a bus was impossible to find and we were told they were all in use evacuating the elderly. So we had decided to ride out the hurricane in our sturdy hotel in the French Quarter.We had all bought three days' supply of food and water to see us through. As we walked the streets of New Orleans and felt the apprehension prickling as residents boarded up shopfronts and houses, the only comfort we could offer was our music. All our planned commitments were cancelled because of the approaching storm so we hit the streets and joined the buskers to share our songs and spirit.
We felt a kinship with the people on the streets most of whom were too poor to flee— they had no money or vehicles.
We sang several songs that night but the best received was TheStorm Is Passing Over,which we sang with gusto and commitment, but although it provided some comfort and joy to our audience it could not stop the disastrous reality that struck the city just 36 hours later. As we sauntered back to our hotel room after taking in some blues music and an aptly named Hurricane cocktail on Bourbon St, the images on theTV screen were scary. Hurricane Katrina had built into a category 5 and was heading straight for New Orleans. Things looked grim.We had to get out. Two women in our group showed great initiative and hailed a taxi, luckily striking an amazing man called BJ who organised a fleet of 12 taxis to ferry us out of danger.
As our convoy pulled out of the French Quarter about 3.30am in a flurry of hastily packed suitcases and plastic bags of hurricane supplies, it was the start of one of the most surreal and memorable cab rides of my life—all the way to Memphis 450 miles (720km) north. And it was certainly the most expensive at $US950. Many of the taxi drivers had families in New Orleans and planned to return to the city after taking us to safety.We all were overwhelmed by their generosity and willingness to help us.
Our taxi driver, Joe took several calls on his mobile from his daughter who lived in a northern state. She urged him keep driving to her place but he was determined to return to his home in New Orleans.We are still trying to track down the drivers to find out their fates but it is proving difficult.We took up a collection for our ‘saviour' BJ who lost everything and hope to do the same for others as we locate them. The taxi drivers knew the streets and deftly navigated their way out of the city avoiding traffic jams and the gridlock that many fleeing motorist were caught in. As we headed north a sign directed us to Baton Rouge prompting a chorus of Janis Joplin's Bobby Magee.
It was obvious this taxi ride would be powered by music. Travelling in America is like travelling through songs. Just about every destination has a lyric to fit. Joe tuned in the radio (anything to stop the Joplin impersonations!) and we were treated to a steady stream of tunes from the 60s— and we knew every word.
Through the dark of night and as the dawn broke we motored through Louisiana and Mississippi, arriving in Memphis, Tennessee, about seven hours later. But there had been a casualty. One of the taxis had not made it and the driver had been forced to abandon it on the side of the road, just salvaging its plates. Despite BJ's urgent desire to return to his family he took the extra time to rescue the stricken driver and passengers and bring them safely to Memphis. As our group sat shattered in the hotel lobby with other refugees from New Orleans, watching the hurricane's destructive progress on TV, again all we could offer was our songs.
Over the next few days the horrific reality unfolded on our screens as the levees in New Orleans broke under the pressure of the fierce storm.The severe flooding unleashed a terrifying toll of death and destruction and werealised how lucky we had been to escape the nightmare.We were privileged because we had the resources to flee and we were extremely fortunate to have connected with such generous folk in our courageous taxi drivers.
So we sang everywhere in Memphis—in hotel lobbies, on the street, in buses, trams, restaurants and parks. It was as much to raise our own spirits and connect with those we had left behind on the streets of New Orleans as for the people we met who had lost everything and were searching for family members. Music was obviously always at the heart of this trip and Memphis offered a wealth of opportunity for understanding and appreciating our recent musical history. It is of course the home of Elvis, the unforgettable Graceland. But there's also Sun Studios where Elvis first recorded along with the likes of Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins (Blue Suede Shoes) and Johnny Cash. And the fascinating Rock and Soul Museum showed the evolution of music from the cotton fields to today and helped underline the fact that most modern music has its roots in gospel.
Other highlights included the Gibson Guitar factory, Stax Studios and of course the fabulous Beale St where myriad blues clubs pump out amazing live music every night of the week. Also the annual Blues and Heritage Festival was on, which meant the streets were jumping with blues, jazz, gospel and rock. And I haven't even mentioned the churches yet. We were treated to some awesome music there. When African Americans go to church they know how to worship in a most vocal, physical and passionate way. It is not unusual for people to collapse in the aisles in a frenzy (the spirit has descended upon them). This is quite alarming for the newcomer but a common occurrence. If the person is female, church elders rush out with sheets called modesty blankets to ensure that the flailing woman does not expose herself and then she is left to recover on the floor while someone fans her occasionally. After a while, she will get up and carry on dancing and singing.
The services themselves were rich musical experiences but the churches also present programs where groups virtually put on a concert. Onenight at the Bethlehem MB Church we were treated to some truly inspiring performances. One of the best boasted the lyrical name of the Sensational Clouds of Joy, and featured four very elderly but deeply soulful gentlemen who sang incredibly. They were followed by the Gospel Angels, a fabulous female trio with a lead singer who put Aretha Franklin to shame as she strutted down the aisle between the pews and fell to her knees.
It was also in Memphis that the choir recorded a few songs at Royal Studios where the legendary Al Green recorded.Our sound engineer was Boo Mitchell, son of Willy Mitchell (Al Green's producer) who met us at the door! Another highlight was the National Civil Rights Museum which is housed in and next to the Lorraine Hotel where Martin Luther King Jnr was assassinated. This museum is a treasure trove of fascinating information and sobering reminder of the terrible treatment that African Americans endured such a short time ago, up until the 1960s. Segregation seems like such an archaic concept but unfortunately although laws have changed there is still much racism and segregation in the south today.
Memphis is starkly divided into black and white suburbs and mixing is minimal. Even in the clubs there is limited social mingling—except of course for our choir members, who broke all the rules! It was interesting to see a slight shift when we headed north to Chicago. Racial lines were still strongly divided but some of the churches were showing signs of mixing. Chicago was a pleasant surprise. It is a beautiful city, incredibly clean with fabulous architecture and miles of stunning parklands on the banks of Lake Michigan. It is the home of the famous Chess Records where the likes of the Rolling Stones, Howling Wolf, MuddyWaters, Bo Diddley, Little Walter and Chuck Berry recorded in the 60s.
First stop that night was the Kingston Mines Blues Club in Lincoln Park which featured two bands that played continually. Onother nights more great blues was heard at the Buddy Guy Blues Club and the Blues Cafe. The churches in Chicago also provided spectacular sounds. We experienced a wide cross section but the standout was the service at Trinity UCC which featured a 200-voice choir all dressed in colourful African robes accompanied by a fabulous eight piece band complete with saxophone. Later that day we attended a quartet program at the New Greater True Light MB Church. We sang two songs, Be Thankful and Shine, and the pastor commented that although we were a bit on the light side, we sounded like we came from Mississippi! The program featured a raft of incredible singers. The highlight for me was a male quartet called the Victory Travellers who put on one hell of a show complete with amazing harmonies, grooves and moves— wow, what dancers!
This program was followed by our farewell dinner which fittingly enough was at a New Orleans style restaurant. And as we pondered over our gumbo whether New Orleans could ever recover from the horrific damage inflicted on it from Hurricane Katrina we again responded with our voices. To the surprise of the staff and other diners we joined for one last time to create our soaring harmonies and sang all the songs we had learned together.
