efore electric powered record players were invented, we had Victrolas.
The Victrola had to be wound by a crank on the side, which activated a
spring and turned the turntable. Aunt Sarah, Grandma's older sister, had
in her music room one of these Victrolas, which I listened to when I
visited her. Aunt Sarah's musical taste ran to classical music sung by
John McCormack, the leading concert tenor of that day. I also heard
music in church. This was all the music I ever heard until I was five or
six years old. I was a complete stranger to popular music and I didn't
accept it without a struggle.
hautauqua came to Howard, Kansas, every summer. Chautauqua consisted of
shows and programs and even lectures. The traveling entertainers would
pitch a big tent and sell tickets to their tent shows; thus, small
villages were given a taste of culture each summer.
n 1925 or 1926, I attended Chautauqua and heard a lady sing a new song
called My Blue Heaven. She gave that song everything she had, and that
young lady really knew how to belt out a tune, complete with gestures. I
cowered in my chair, flushed with embarrassment for that girl because it
was plain to see she was making a fool of herself. I may have been the
only person in the whole country who didn't like My Blue Heaven, for it
went on to become an American standard and is still sung occasionally.