For most of us, an encounter with one of America’s many colorful sub-cultures is something that’s experienced second-hand, through the distant, dusky mirror of black-and-white PBS documentaries or CD re-recordings of old 78s. But on Tuesday night at FitzGerald’s, a lucky group of listeners encountered one of America’s most storied sub-cultures in the flesh.
Recently, a gathering of the nation’s hobos took place in the Pullman neighborhood on Chicago’s south side, and on Tuesday night FitzGerald’s opened its stage to some of that community’s musicians for an engaging and enlightening two-hours of song, story and folklore.
It’s important to note that hobos are not synonymous with the “homeless.” Most hobos take to a life of tramping or riding the rails not because they are mentally unstable or substance abusers or criminals. Rather, they are often philosophical, strong-willed dissenters from a way of life, people who find Americans’ addictive consumerism and ceaseless paycheck-chasing to be pointless.
The three hobo musicians who graced FitzGerald’s stage performed a mix of folk staples and original tunes that focused less on the hardships and dangers of hoboing than on its simple pleasures. In the process, they revealed a unique musical tradition not gleaned from records or in schools but passed on orally, one hobo to another.
Fred Starner opened on five-string banjo with a homey rendition of “Wabash Cannonball.” What Starner’s voice lacked in nuance it made up for in sheer power, and the intensity with which he delivered lines about the roar of train wheels and life in hobo jungles made it clear this was autobiography rather than stagecraft. Starner concluded on 12-string guitar with an original song, “Hobos Lullaby” that succinctly summed up his philosophy: “A hobo is life at its core/Happiness is not making more and more.”
Next up was Gypsy Moon, who began riding the rails 12 years ago and was elected “Queen of the Hobos” in 1990. An author rather than a musician, she took a few minutes to explain some hobo folklore and tradition and describe her first “liberating experiences” on the road.
Guitarist/banjoist Windy City Tom and mandolinist Mr. Bojangles followed with a set of heartfelt vocal and instrumental duets that touched on folk, bluegrass and gospel. On his original instrumental “Nellie Danced with the Cowboy” Bojangles flashed some truly first-rate picking, and his singular tenor vocal inflections on “I Saw the Light” to recalled the singing styles of the ’30s and ’40s, suggesting that he had learned this music orally rather than from modern performances.
Starner joined Tom and Bojangles on stage for a short trio set that concluded with a rousing rendition of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land.” What made their rendition especially potent was the knowledge that each performer had come to know America and its people with a depth and immediacy few of us will ever be privy to. And they’d endured many a hardship for the privilege of doing so.
