c.
2018 Rod Ice
All
rights reserved
(11-18)
‘Loner.’
A descriptive word, both accurate and indelible.
As a
kid, I moved many times when my family hip-hopped from one
destination to another, with an unpredictable zeal for adventure.
Dad’s service as a clergyman and counselor meant that our home was
ever built on shifting soil. I never had a sense of being from any
geographical spot on the map. Or, of being part of a group. We were a
nomadic tribe, sometimes able to depend on the kindness of strangers.
But ultimately, alone with ourselves.
In
the summer of 1969, we moved to a small town in Kentucky, named
Owingsville. Located in the northeastern part of that state, our new
home was the seat of Bath County. Though the greater nation writhed
in social upheaval and the military mire of Vietnam, our community
lagged behind. Life was much as it might have been in the 1940’s or
50’s. Men still sat, whittling wood sticks, in front of stores,
downtown. My school had long since outgrown its dated, brick
dimensions. So I took third-grade classes in a trailer. On weekends,
I walked with my brother and sister to the front end of Wells Avenue,
where a gas station offered Ale-8-One from a vending machine.
Downtown,
a ‘five and dime’ store had 45 rpm records on sale for 10 cents,
each. I had already begun to gather tuneful vinyl, mirroring the
habit of my father. But this new vein of grooved platters excited my
obsession, in earnest. It made me feel less isolated to seek and find
music.
Instead
of being a loner, I was now a collector.
One
of these treasures was a single by the Turtles called ‘House on the
Hill.’ A group well known, nationally and overseas. Another, more
anonymous, was by Jim Ford, a native of the Bluegrass State. Issued
on the Mustang label, in red and black.
His
song was called ‘Linda Comes Running.’ Co-written with Pat Vegas
and released two years earlier:
“When
I call her name, well-a india Linda
Linda
comes running, as fast as she can
She
knows how to make me feel like somebody
She
knows how to make me feel like a man
The
way she moves is like a soft summer breeze
The
things she says, she’s got a hold on me
Whenever
I need her I don’t have to worry
When
I call her name, she’s there in a hurry
Linda
comes running as fast as she can...”
I
felt lucky to have discovered this nugget of Rock & Roll so close
to home.
Soon,
I made a makeshift studio upstairs, in our attic. There, I sat with a
portable Silvertone hi-fi, acquired from the Sears & Roebuck
catalog. A big-speakered device, wrapped in upholstery colored green
and white. Dad was busy with duties at church. Brother and sister
liked to play in the yard. Mom struggled with lingering remnants of
postpartum depression and weight issues, while shielding us from such
concerns with love. Her songs in the kitchen inspired me to dream of
performing on my own.
I
played records over and over and over again.
From
my youthful perspective, Ford might well have been a star like Elvis
or the Beatles. Though the true scope of his career was much more
humble. I literally wore out the circular slab of wax, while
imagining myself on stage:
“When
I was down and out she made me feel like living
My
cup’s overflowing with the love she’s given
Whenever
I need her I just call her name
And
Linda comes running as fast as she can
She
knows how to make my temperature rise
Linda
comes running it ain’t no surprise
Here
she comes here she comes here she comes now
Linda
comes running, look at that gal...”
Ford
issued his seminal LP ‘Harlan County’ that year. Though largely
unknown to many fans of popular music, his compositions were recorded
by successful artists, including Bobbie Gentry, Ron Wood, Nick Lowe
and Aretha Franklin.
Later,
as I grew to adulthood, my copy of the 45 disappeared into a mass of
records, which I carried from state to state. While discussing music
with other collectors, I sometimes referenced my childhood gem.
Universally, I received the same response.
“Jim
Who??”
After
decades of life experiences, and other vinyl treasures, I began to
wonder if my underdeveloped memory had concocted the record out of
fantasy. But the modern miracle-tool of online research revived my
recollections, and more. Bear Family Records, from Germany, had
gathered and re-released many of his classic works and unknown demo
tapes. A website created by Robin Dunn and Chrissie Van Varik offered
information on Ford, with a wealth of transcribed lyrics from his
compositions. He was born on August 23rd, 1941. In the
Johnson County town of Paintsville, not far away from where I had
lived. Sadly, he was found dead on November 18th, 2007,
while plans were in motion to revive his career.
Once
again, I could hear his voice projected from the old Silvertone
player:
“Hey-hey
Linda girl I need you right now
Ah,
look at my baby, she’s coming to me now
When
I call her name, well-a india Linda
Linda
comes running as fast as she can...”
It
was as if I had teleported through time and space, back to 233 Wells
Avenue. My home for a year, my memory, forever.
Comments
about ‘Words On The Loose’ may be sent to:
icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Write
us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024
Read
more about Jim Ford at: https://robindunnmusic.wordpress.com/
Bear
Family Records: https://www.bear-family.com/
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