Things I'll Remember

It’s almost 3:00 a.m. and I’m thinking about my uncle’s funeral that I'll attend today. Uncle Dennis died this week of a massive stroke and hemorrhage to the brain. He was a mysterious saxophone player and one of the dark horses of my family, but loved nonetheless. He always repeated the first couple of phrases before he completed a sentence: “Looka here, looka here, I haven’t seen you in a while. What’s up, what’s up?” “Now, that ain’t, that ain’t right.”

When I was about seven years old, he called my grandmother’s house and I picked up the phone. I didn’t hear anyone on the other end, so I decided to try out some of the new curse words I’d heard. I said, “M-F, don’t f—ckin play on the phone! I’ll whip yo M-F ass!” and hung up. When the phone rang again, I was poised to spray a cacophony of many more creative epitaphs, just like the big kids on my block. The voice on the other end said, “This is Dennis, and that was me on the phone . . . .” [He didn't repeat himself that day.]

I got dizzy. Fear dropped to my young toes, causing them to curl and cramp. Whatever he said scared the heck out of me for a while, because I blocked it out of my memory and buried the shame. For many years after that, I’d get butterflies in my stomach when I saw him. I had lost face, and my innocence was forever shattered in his eyes. Now, I wish that I had reminded him of that day, so that we could have laughed about it. I know that we would laugh about it now.

Good Old Folks

“Voices from the days of slavery… Charlie Smith, age 130,” I read. I was immediately fascinated, but that was only the beginning. Since 1928, the Archive of Folk Culture of the Library of Congress has collected ethnographic artifacts of over “three million photographs, manuscripts, audio recordings, and moving images” documenting American culture through the memories and customs of Americans throughout the United States.

A black man, Charlie Smith, who “yes,” was about to turn the age of 134 at the time of his 1975 interview, speaks in a humble and poetic tongue, about his memories of being brought from Africa, sold into slavery, and the unraveling of the Civil War. A man-on-the-street interview the day after Pearl Harbor solicits a Chinese laundry worker about his opinion on the Japanese: “And the Congress declared war on Japan I'm very happy about….”

One could spend hours on this website, maneuvering through all of the cultural artifacts that naturally incite curiosity due to their mysticism: songs, narratives, figures of speech, proverbs, indigenous decorations, recipes passed down through generations. Even magic. The website offers MP3, WAV, and Realplayer recordings to its visitors. Many tracks have been lifted from recordings originally made on “Thomas Edison’s wax-cylinder recording machine.” The site also offers accompanying transcripts.

I strongly recommend this site. It is a bonafide research center and offers a background description of the project’s beginning and historical information about its founders. There are many photographs, vivid descriptions of material signifying its relevance to the folklore described, diverse styles of ethnographic prose and poetry. It is well-organized, and the items are presented in a narrative style which highlights the historical and academic significance of the artifacts that lie within each link. The American Folklife Center, which houses said Archive of Folk Culture, is located within the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.