What Pete Seeger’s Legacy Looks Like
I hope everybody who loved Pete or was touched by him even in the smallest way can find a way to get involved with a group of people and sing. It can be in a living room, around a camp fire, at a concert, even in a church. Sing! Whether you sing soft or loud, sing with your heart. Don’t worry about what your voice sounds like. Listen to the voices of others. Listen to the blend and how your voice contributes to the mix. Encourage those around you to join in. Disarm their fears by welcoming them into the circle. This is one of the best ways I know to nurture community. Sing!
Pete’s passing did not come as a surprise. A close friend of mine who grew up with Pete as an adopted uncle told me two years ago Pete would live as long as he had his wife Toshi, he could still chop wood and he could still play music. Early this past summer he still had all three, but by late fall all three were gone or close to it.
I performed a concert with Pete and David Amram on November 14 at the Cutting Room in Manhattan. I was well aware that this may be our last time performing together. Pete’s health was beginning to fail but he displayed a magnificence I’ve rarely seen. Earlier in the day his hands were so swollen that he could not bend them enough to play his instruments. So he took diuretic drinks all afternoon which helped somewhat. He also found it difficult to stand for a long time and we posed the idea that he might want to sit during the concert. He would have none of that. He said people didn’t come to see an old man sitting in a chair.
When we took the stage, Pete came to life. He was excited and happy. His heart was overflowing. Earlier, when we picked out the songs we were going to play, Pete told me that I was going to have to lead all of them because he couldn’t remember them well enough. But when we began, Pete started the set with a song David and I had never heard before, an old folk song, “The Farmer’s Curst Wife.” He did a splendid job and had the sold out audience in the palm of hands by the time he finished the first verse. The rest of the show was all Pete. David and I stood alongside him, instruments in hand, but contributed very sparsely.
What made this show so magnificent was that Pete didn’t have much of voice left to sing with, his fingers were not very dexterous to play with and his memory was not sharp enough to remember all of the words with but he replaced those with a level of humanity that touched every soul in the room. There was no showmanship in this concert. There was just an ordinary man with an extraordinary love for humankind who lived an extraordinary life – a model citizen of the world who loved the ideals of America, loved humanity and cherished God’s creation – a man who understood that the world can be transformed into a better place by building culture, nurturing community and empowering a few dedicated individuals who want to accomplish something important. Here stood a man stripped of all pretension and any thoughts of self aggrandizement or personal gain who only wanted to share music and sing with people. He was completely honest and sincere. No matter that he sometimes took five or even fifteen seconds to remember the next verse to song. He made no attempts to hide that his memory was going. But when the words came to him he shared them as if he were a young boy who had just discovered something new and fantastic.
I particularly remember the song “English is Cur-ay-zee”, written by Josh White Jr. The song is a rap covering many of the crazy idiosyncrasies of the English language like parking in the driveway and driving on the parkway. The song is funny enough as it is. But to hear Pete sing it that night with the innocence of a child was so funny that people later told me it brought tears to their eyes. After the last song Pete got a standing ovation in which the love was palpable. Pete had achieved his greatest accomplishment – one he had done so many times throughout his life. He honestly, sincerely, genuinely touched people’s hearts with love, inclusion, empowerment and encouragement.
The day after Pete passed, a group of about fifty of his friends gathered in a private home in Beacon, New York, the town in which Pete lived the last 60 plus years of his life. We did what we always do. We ate food, told stories, hugged and sang. And we sang. And we sang. At first, most songs were one’s Pete had written. Then came originals about Pete. Then came other favorites. The shy fellow in the corner was encouraged to come in and sing for us. He did and we all sang with him. Those who don’t play instruments led songs while others played guitar and banjo behind them or we all sang a capella. Our local opera singer led us singing Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” At one point we all drove down to the local funeral hall and said good bye to Pete in person as he lay in state. Then went back to the house and ate more food, told more stories, did more hugging and engaged in more singing.
Somewhere in the middle of all of this something profound struck me. When it came my turn to lead another song I said, riffing off of a popular protest chant, “People may say ‘Show me what Pete’s legacy looks like.’ Well, THIS is what Pete’s legacy looks like.” And little groups of people all around are carrying it on everyday in living rooms, concert halls, churches and other places where people gather and share food and song. I hope everybody who loved Pete or was touched by him even in the smallest way can find a way to get involved with a group of people and sing!
