See The Stillhouse Reelers – Had a Big Time Today – FRC740
Here’s a scrap book of photos and memorabilia from the old days of this venerable band. Click above to listen or purchase the recordings of the band. Continue reading
See The Stillhouse Reelers – Had a Big Time Today – FRC740
Here’s a scrap book of photos and memorabilia from the old days of this venerable band. Click above to listen or purchase the recordings of the band. Continue reading
Double Decker String Band – Double Take – Annotated TrackLists FRC746
Disc 1
Disc 2
(courtesy of the Old Time Herald) See FRC730
Samuel Carlton Freeny 1-3-Pat Conte(from The Old Time Herald)

Bill Livers (Aug. 3, 1911 – Feb. 7, 1988) appeared in my life at the perfect moment. Just back from Oxford with an MA and a good idea of what I didn’t want to do next, a friend told me I needed to meet this old black man in Owen County who played the fiddle. I had played bluegrass up to that point, and Bill was the first true old-time fiddler I ever met. The experience set my life on a different course that I’m still travelling today. In retrospect, it seems appropriate that the first traditional Kentucky fiddler I ever met was black. I was soon to learn that most of the older white fiddlers I encountered over the next few years had also learned from black fiddlers.
I relocated to Owen County along with a group of friends from college days. We were inspired by the writings and example of Wendell Berry, and we began putting down roots in the county across the river from his Port Royal. We were moving into old tenant houses and paying rent by working in the owners’ tobacco crops and fixing up these houses that hadn’t been lived in for years. Eventually some of us were able to buy land of our own. I did, and I’m happy to say I’m still here.

Band Flyer by Gray Zeitz, Larkspur Press, Monterrey, KY
The group that formed a band around Bill Livers started as the Progress Red Hot String Band, named after the drum stoves most of us heated with, and after a time we changed the name to the Bill Livers String Ensemble. It was a continuing education for us as we got to know Bill, learn his music, and share his experience.
Bill grew up in a vibrant black music community in northern Owen County. His music came from a variety of sources. His grandfather Virgil Livers was a fiddler who traveled around central Kentucky playing music with his sons Albert and Claud Livers. Other black musicians around New Liberty that Bill remembered were fiddler Hood Livers, guitarist Chester Morton, jug and washboard player Navy Pitts, and drummer Sylvester Carl, an ensemble that sounds like it must have been a jug band in the style of the Cincinnati and Louisville jug bands.[1] Henry Gayle (1883-1956) was another black fiddler in the area that Bill went to learn from as a young boy. Yet another fiddler he learned from was Clarence Orr, a white fiddler who played left-handed. Bill also spoke of learning tunes from a piano player who played for the silent movies, from wax cylinders played on an Edison Talking Machine, from musicians who came through the area with the medicine shows, and from the musicians who would gather on Saturday afternoons to play in the yard of the Owen County Courthouse.
Everything Bill played, from the old fiddle tunes of his family to the popular blues and jazz songs he picked up along the way, was reinterpreted and transformed by his exuberant spirit and love for connecting with his audience. When performing, he seemed to go to another level and channel pure love for the moment and for the people who were lucky enough to be there with him.

Bill Livers, Monterey, 1976 (Matthew Kaplan)
Bill’s fish fries were the occasion for some raucous partying during the time that we knew him. People would come from surrounding counties and even from out of state. Bill’s wife Hattie was a great singer who sounded a lot like Billie Holiday, and she would steal the show when she made up her mind to sing. Unfortunately, Bill did not usually play his best in these situations where drink flowed freely, and consequently many people had the impression that he was a good entertainer but not a very good fiddler. But when he was around other good fiddlers and didn’t have too much to drink, he could turn it up and turn their heads around. One of the purposes of this project is to share some of those times when Bill was on his game and putting his soul into his music. Like all great old-time fiddlers, he was great in his own way, and that is how he should be remembered.
The recordings we have of Bill were made under less-than-ideal conditions. We were young and wild and more interested in the moment than in posterity. The settings ranged from festivals to bars to barns, and nearly all of it was recorded on cassette, but we think Bill himself comes through as he truly was.

Bill Livers (Tacy Groves)
The ideas we are hearing in discussions about race today do not describe the experiences we had working with, fishing with, traveling with, and playing music with Bill Livers. How could we as college-educated middle class white boys and girls understand and connect with this black man whose life was so different from ours? We played with Bill for eighteen years. When Bill laughed, we laughed. When Bill hurt, we hurt with him. Everywhere we went the racial codes were there just beneath the surface, but Bill had a way of disarming prejudice and touching people’s hearts. This may have evolved as a survival mechanism, but it was interesting to watch how it worked. As Bill straddled and negotiated the color line, we struggled to see things as he saw them, and we learned valuable lessons. We would always be white, but we touched each other, and we were implicated in each other’s lives.
We know today, thanks to George Gibson and many others, how much our traditional music owes to black people. Whether the fiddle, the banjo, the guitar, or the vocal styles, our music is mixed-race in equal proportion, black and white. We were most fortunate to experience this up close with such a remarkable and charismatic individual as Bill Livers. He was beloved in Owen County and beyond, and his memory will live on in the hearts of everyone who knew him.
—John Harrod – From an interview with Bill Livers by Burnham Ware in Living Blues Magazine (No. 51, Summer 1981)
I first encountered African American fiddler Bill Livers on a night I will never forget. He was a tall, lean man in overalls, carrying a fiddle and bow, being led into an active party scene. As a young college student from a small town in Georgia, I had come to Kentucky State University to study chemistry and biology and to be part of the university’s renowned marching band. While there, I also shared my passion for dance with the community. It was through a dance collaboration that I met Bill Livers.
That night, I found myself at a Halloween party in Owenton, Kentucky, hosted by someone introduced to me as “Scum Boy” and his sidekick, “Scum Dog.” My dance colleague Meriah had invited me, and I quickly realized I was the only African American guest. The party was held in a small wooden shack with an outdoor bathroom. While that detail gave me a moment of hesitation, I soon found myself immersed in the evening’s festivities drinking, laughing, and enjoying the company around me. Then, the atmosphere shifted.
The shack’s front door creaked open, and an elderly Black couple entered. Their presence immediately caught my attention. Though the crowd welcomed them enthusiastically, I noticed how the woman gently guided the older man as he shuffled forward, gripping her hand with one of his and carrying his fiddle in the other. As I observed him closely, he appeared blind as she led him to a spot, reassured him, and disappeared into the night. And then, he played. Later, I learned that he had cataracts that challenged his vision.
At first, the fiddle’s sound was piercing, almost a screech, but it quickly transformed into something mesmerizing. The music filled the room, shifting from raw and unfamiliar to deeply moving. I had never witnessed a performance like this before, especially not from a Black man standing at the center of a mostly white crowd in this tiny shack. He played with passion, his foot stomping in rhythm as he sang, the tempo intensifying. The room erupted in dance, the energy infectious.
I had always thought of this kind of music as just “country music,” something I had only seen white musicians perform on television. But that night, I felt something different. The music took hold of me. It was exhilarating, celebratory, alive. I danced with everyone until the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon.

Bill Livers String Ensemble (L-R): John Harrod, Jane Harrod, Larry Green, Bill Livers, Ben Griffith, Eric Larson (Liam Cutchins)
On the drive back to campus, I held onto two names: Bill Livers and his wife, Hattie. Something about that experience stayed with me, embedding itself deep in my soul. As I matured, I found myself asking who was this extraordinary Black fiddler, blind yet full of life, playing music with such unrestrained joy? I needed to know more.
Looking back, that night taught me an invaluable lesson: no one should dictate the kind of music a person can love, especially when it speaks to their soul.
—Carol Tucker-Burden
Bill offered the world a simple invitation to enjoy his music. He offered it to anyone with a point of his bow or a turn of his eye toward individual listeners. I always claim that I was a graduate of the Bill Livers School of Performing Arts. It takes a certain amount of insecurity to stand in front of a crowd and make everyone love you, but Bill did that more often than not. Looking back through the lens of years, I can more appreciate the courage it took for him to play the many audiences and venues that were so foreign to the culture he was raised in. The many hours we spent together riding to gigs are cherished times for me of both laughter and tears. —Ben Griffith

John Harrod, Bill Livers, Eric Larson at the Monterey Fair, 1980s
Bill was more than a musician for me. He was the consummate performer, as well as friend, mentor, and sometimes accessory. His entire life was writ large in his performances: his being happy with much less than we are used to, his sense of fun, and more than a few heartaches. As much as he played up the “no fool, no fun” routine, he had more dignity and gentleness in his heart than anyone I ever knew. —Eric Larson
Bill’s way of swinging every tune and making it jump more than other fiddlers immediately made any audience move and smile. He was an immense gift to a world that had long denied equity and peace to an entire race. In his life and in his music, Bill succeeded in transcending his societal chains. — Jane Harrod

Resting before a gig
Bill was a force of nature. His music was an extension of his desire to make people happy. His goal was to have everyone in the audience smile back at him. And he put the same effort and love into his fish fries. He would fish all winter with his friends and freeze the fish so that he could have several fish fries during the summer. At every performance, he would invite the entire audience to his fish fries. There was no telling who might show up at those gatherings.
Bill showed me how to play the fiddle. He would describe his style as “rough as a cob.” It was only much later in life that I realized just how good a player Bill was. He had a style all his own. You have to know something about fiddling to appreciate what he put into his playing. At the end of every show, he would always say, “God bless all you all”. —Larry Green
There are two types of musicians. For one type, the artist is the center, and the music is there to highlight his or her virtuosity. For the second type, the music is the star, and the performer is there to bring it to life. Bill Livers made the music his message. His music was carried by his magnetic personality and his search to find the Good Times. Bill was not a virtuoso, but he achieved what he set out to do. Everyone loved him, and he brought the joy of his music to anyone who stopped to listen. —Tom Rein

Owen County memorial quilt with Bill Livers
Robert Lee “Strawberry” McCloud – Bloomington Breakdown – FRC749
Below is the text of an article that appeared in the Bloomington, Indiana, newspaper, the Herald-Telephone (now Herald-Times), based on an interview with Strawberry McCloud. It appeared probably in late 1977 or 1978, given that Strawberry was born November 11, 1907, and the article gives his age as 70. We can’t vouch for total accuracy, but much of it agrees with information in “Strawberry’s Folk Festival Autobiography” (included in the FRC749 online file) that Strawberry provided around this same time to Kent State Folk Festival organizers when they hired him as a performer (in Kent, Ohio, February 1978).
As we discuss in our introduction to “Strawberry’s Folk Festival Autobiography,” it’s likely that his account of meeting the Skillet Lickers and being part of that band in the late 1920s is a case of resumé enhancement. However, given his detailed memories, we find his friendship with Doc Roberts and experience of playing bass fiddle with the Georgia Wildcats in the early 1930s to be credible.
Also, whereas the article quotes Strawberry as saying he won fiddle contests at West Virginia, Indiana, and Pennsylvania locations, to our best knowledge the events he mentions were not contests but folk festivals where he performed: Augusta Heritage Workshop, Elkins, West Virginia; Indiana Fiddlers Gathering, Battle Ground; and New Harmony (Indiana) Festival of Traditional Music. The Brandywine, Pennsylvania, event also was a festival; as far as we know he did not perform there but may have attended. According to recent interviews with Strawberry’s two surviving children, he did win many fiddle contests in the south central Indiana area.
Other apparent errors in the article are: He was born not in Logan County, Kentucky, but Bourbon County; the reference to “Fayette” probably should be “Fayette County;” the crane accident probably occurred in 1936 (not 1939), before his move to southern Indiana; the tune listed as “Marcy Camel” is actually “Martha Campbell.”
“Once a Skillet Licker, now an art perpetuator
Strawberry McCloud—fiddlin’ and fishin’”
By Tom Ritchie, H-T Staff Writer
…McCloud is a local fiddle player who played with the Skillet Lickers during the early 30’s, and continues to ply his avocation whenever he can around Bloomington….
During the weekend and in an evening, visitors usually interrupt a jam session with friends or a lesson taught by Strawberry to younger musicians as the art perpetuates itself….
“I’ve made a lot of friends through music and we get together and have a good time.”
Fiddlin’ was Strawberry’s chosen profession. During the late 20’s and early 30’s he toured with some of the early “old-fashioned hillbilly music” bands lead by Clat McMichen and Gib Tanner. A long-time friend of the famous fiddler “Doc” Roberts, Strawberry is a self-taught musician, learning and teaching whenever the opportunity came along.
When Tanner turned his style to more popular music and became too “classy,” Strawberry opted for construction work as a heavy machine operator. Music became an avocation—a hobby that keeps Strawberry 70 years young.
Born in Logan Co., Ky, Strawberry spent his childhood years helping his father oversee a 900-acre tobacco farm. His two older brothers played fiddle and the younger McCloud was attracted to the sound…
McCloud’s music career began at eight.
He soon found himself a member of the family band. The group played for square dances, weddings and other local events in and around Fayette, Ky. At 17, he left the family band, and Ky, to pursue a professional career. After spending half a day in Nashville, TN, searching for the Grand Olde Opry building, he found it by an unusual quirk of fate.
“I met Gib Tanner, Clat McMichen, Bert Lane, and Riley Puckett coming up the street. Tanner stopped me and seen me carrying a fiddle, he said, ‘Buddy, you play the fiddle?’
I said, ‘Well, I try to.’
He said, ‘How long you been playing?’
I told him I started out trying to learn when I was eight years old.
He said, ‘Well, I believe you ought to be pretty good by now. Let’s go up to the Grand Olde Opry and we’ll play a lick or two.’ ”
McCloud had been looking for the building and suddenly found himself, not only within a half block of the Opry, but also in the company of some of the leaders of the “old fashioned music” industry.
After Tanner heard him play, McCloud was offered a job with his band. He traveled with Tanner’s “Skillet Lickers” from 1927 to 1929 at a salary of $60 a week. In 1929 he joined Clat McMichen’s band [for] $65 a week. He played with McMichen until 1934. He quit because Clat was getting into “bluegrass and rock and roll and getting away from old time music.”
Shortly after he left Tanner’s band, he went to work driving heavy equipment for various construction firms. His musical career almost came to an end in 1939 while working a crane at the Fort Knox gold vault construction site. When the sling on the crane broke, the boom swung over, crashing into the cab of the crane. McCloud’s arm was smashed by the boom.
For two weeks doctors told him they would have to amputate his arm. He refused to let them, and spent the next 16 months with a cast around the broken limb. The result was that he was forced to learn to play fiddle with three fingers. With an artificial tube in his arm, the little finger of his left hand is virtually inoperative.
His long time friend, “Doc” Roberts, came to see him in the hospital and encouraged McCloud to continue with his music.
“He said, ‘I’ll learn ya some new bow action and how to slide a little in your music, and you can play just as good.’
So I took his advice and went ahead and done it. I’ve won several fiddle contests since then. I won one last year in West Virginia, and one at Battle Grounds, Ind., New Harmony, and Brandywine, Pennsylvania.”
When he came to Indiana in 1937 he won 19 fiddle contests throughout the state and there have been scores since.
“New Money and Marcy Camel are my favorite pieces. I’ve won a lot of contests with both.”
Robert Lee “Strawberry” McCloud – Bloomington Breakdown – FRC749
‘He lived hard, he worked hard, he played hard’
by Steve Hinnefeld
One day in February 1975, Randy Marmouzé stopped by the trailer where I lived in Bloomington, Indiana, toting his banjo. “Let’s go see if Strawberry wants to play some tunes,” he said.
Randy and I had been playing old-time music together for several years, sometimes at local dances and parties. I’d heard of Strawberry McCloud, a semi-legendary local fiddler who was rumored to have played with Clayton McMichen, but I’d never met him. I think I was a little intimidated.
I’d also heard his wife had passed away, and he’d been through a difficult time. I didn’t know what to expect. Would he want to play music with a couple of young folks who showed up unannounced?
But I grabbed my guitar and we drove to where he was living with his daughter and son-in-law, Judy and Phil Taylor. Randy knocked on the door and asked for Strawberry, and Judy went to get him. I thought he seemed a bit disoriented when he came to the door; maybe he’d been napping. But he invited us in, led us to the furnished basement, got out his fiddle, and began to play.
I recall that his playing initially seemed a bit shaky, apparently after a spell of not having the fiddle out of the case, but he warmed up quickly. He played familiar tunes like Soldier’s Joy, Arkansas Traveler and Black-Eyed Susie, but his versions were idiosyncratically his own. He played in a lively, assertive style that left no doubt that he knew just what he wanted the music to sound like.
Randy had played with him previously, in jam sessions at a bait shop and a country store near Smithville, just south of Bloomington and close to where Strawberry lived. But, for the most part, my friends and I, mostly in our 20s, had been learning music from records by revivalist groups like the Fuzzy Mountain and Highwoods string bands and from reissues of old 78s. Strawberry introduced us to music that was fresh, authentic and genuinely “old-time,” not the warmed-over bluegrass we’d sometimes hear from older local musicians.
Before long we were playing together frequently, often with other young musicians joining in. Strawberry moved into a small house across the street from Judy and Phil, and that became the site for music gatherings. We also played at Randy’s rented house on Shields Ridge Road south of Bloomington.
Strawberry would fix strong cups of instant coffee and we would sit in his front room and play. Aspiring old-time musicians like Mark Feddersen, Donna Doughten, Bob Herring and others, would join in. Strawberry’s son-in-law, John Neff, would occasionally stop by and play the old upright piano in the front room. Guitar player Jeff Claus and fiddler Judy Hyman, dedicated and accomplished musicians and students of old-time music, moved to Bloomington in 1976 to study at Indiana University, and Jeff became a regular guitarist with the informal groups.

The house in Bloomington where Strawberry lived with Ren Oschin and where he often hosted music sessions from 1975 to 80.
Soon Strawberry was playing for new audiences, often at the weekly Bloomington Old-Time Music and Dance Group dances. His irregular tunes and timing sometimes gave the contra callers fits, but Bloomington dancers loved the drive and exuberance of his playing. “He was so much fun to dance to,” recalled longtime dancer Martha Steel Marmouzé , who married Randy Marmouzé in 1977. “The music was sassy. We would sway our hips and drag our feet.”
The more Strawberry played, the more tunes he would unearth from memory. His repertoire included not just hoedowns but waltzes, blues numbers, and pop tunes including Tin Pan Alley and country standards. As Teri Klassen explains in the essay on his tunes and influences, he had lost the use of the little finger on his left hand in a construction accident, but he compensated with a style that relied on blue notes, slides and syncopation. He radiated confidence when he played.
Bob “Strawberry” McCloud was born Nov. 11, 1907, in Bourbon County, Kentucky, just east of Lexington. When he was a child, his family moved a few miles to Clark County, near the small city of Winchester. He recalled that he started playing the fiddle at age 8, learning from his two older brothers — he also had three sisters — and from musicians from the region, eventually including Doc Roberts. This was pre-rural electrification, and the family didn’t have a radio or phonograph, so learning took place in person.

Strawberry as a young child with his mother and his older brother Jack. Photo courtesy Junior McCloud.
The self-described “black sheep” of the family, he married young. The 1930 census shows him, age 22, living in Clark County with his wife, Irene, her parents, and their 3-year-old daughter, Dorothy. The marriage didn’t last, however, possibly because music, travel and the musician’s lifestyle got in the way.
In his later years, prompted by an audience, he would talk about playing with Clayton McMichen and the Georgia Wildcats and, sometimes, with Gid Tanner and the Skillet Lickers. We haven’t found documentation of this, and the stories may have been embellished. But the basics seem likely, at least regarding McMichen. Old-time bands of the late ‘20s and early ‘30s were often loose groups of musicians, according to our research. They would pick up sidemen by their availability for contests, radio broadcasts and tours, and it’s not surprising there aren’t records of his playing with the groups.
Also, Strawberry played at such a high level late in life, suggesting he was a professional level musician when he learned and polished his skill as a young man. He enjoyed being the center of attention and gravitated to the microphone if one was available. He never seemed to doubt his fiddling was special.
But music didn’t pay the bills for a growing family. Encouraged by his older brothers, Strawberry became a heavy equipment operator. He was proud of his skill at running a grader and other machinery, but work could be sporadic, and it was dangerous in an era before OSHA imposed safety regulations. Strawberry suffered serious injuries at least twice, once spending months in the hospital.
At age 33, he married 16-year-old Anna Louise Jackson, the daughter of a barber and a piano player in tiny Owensburg, Indiana. They had eight children, one of whom died in infancy, and raised them with considerable help from their extended family. They moved often to follow construction work. One son remembered that he never finished an academic year in the same school where he started it.
Strawberry kept playing music socially, however. His and Anna’s two oldest surviving children – Judy Taylor, born in 1941, and Junior McCloud, born in 1944 – said their parents got together with friends nearly every weekend, with tubs of beer in the back yard. “There might be three guys there playing music, there might be 10 or 12,” Junior said.
Strawberry’s children said the McCloud family life included “good times” but also “bad times.” Regarding her father, Judy Taylor said, “He lived hard, he worked hard, he played hard.”
We’ve heard a couple of stories to explain the nickname “Strawberry.” One version is that he was “as wild as a strawberry roan horse.” In another, he was fiddling at a party while a red-haired woman danced suggestively. He yelled, “Go, Strawberry Roan!,” just as his wife walked up. Friends started using the moniker to needle him, and it stuck.
Anna McCloud died in October 1973 at age 49. Her loss was a serious blow for Strawberry. Mike Johnson, who grew up near Smithville and played guitar with Strawberry as a teenager, remembered that he was sometimes incapacitated by grief and alcohol and played little for the next year or so.

Strawberry’s nephew John Willie Myers playing guitar at an outdoor gathering. Photo courtesy of Junior McCloud.
In time, he seemed to thrive again playing music with young musicians and often for young audiences. His powerful, bluesy fiddling and Randy Marmouzé ’s driving and relentless clawhammer-style banjo playing were an excellent match, and they loved playing with each other. Before long, Strawberry McCloud and Friends (sometimes as the Bloomington Ramblers) were playing gigs around Indiana: the Old Fiddlers Gathering at Battle Ground, a festival at New Harmony, a music and dance demonstration at Conner Prairie living history museum. He and his companion Rene (later Ren) Oschin traveled to music festivals in Ohio and West Virginia, where Strawberry was a featured artist, led workshops and shared his music with a larger audience. He also enjoyed reconnecting and playing with musicians closer to his own age, including his nephew John Willie Myers, who lived in Liberty, Indiana.
A lifelong smoker, a tobacco chewer, and off-and-on heavy drinker, Strawberry developed severe health problems in his 70s. He died Oct. 4, 1980, at age 72.

Strawberry McCloud and friends at the Indiana Old Fiddlers’ Gathering, Battle Ground, Indiana, 1977. From left, Randy Marmouzé, Mark Feddersen, Strawberry, Jeff Claus and Steve Hinnefeld. Photo: Martha Marmouzé.
Working on this recording project, Teri Klassen and I have often wished we had asked Strawberry so many questions: about his life, his family, where he learned his tunes and why he played them the way he did. And we’ve wished we had kept better records of the things he did say. We were young, and we were focused on the music and the fun we were having. The questions could wait.
But we are deeply grateful to the friends who had the foresight to make and preserve these field recordings and who shared them for this project, especially Randy Marmouzé (who died in 2016), Ren Oschin (who died in 2022), Ted Hall (who died in 2023), Gary Stanton, Kerry Blech (and the Kent State Folk Festival), Andy Cahan, Jeff Claus, Wayne Erbsen, and Gerry Milnes (and the Augusta Heritage Workshop). We also greatly appreciate Judy Taylor and Junior McCloud for generously sharing memories and photographs of their father and their family.
Listening to these recordings has taken us back and reminded us that Bob “Strawberry” McCloud was an amazing fiddler and a special individual. We were fortunate to know him and to play music with him. We hope – as he would have hoped – that his tunes will liven up your dances and music sessions.
Robert Lee “Strawberry” McCloud – Bloomington Breakdown – FRC749
By Teri Klassen
Fiddler/bass fiddler/heavy equipment operator Robert Lee “Bob” or “Strawberry” McCloud (1907-80) spent his first 30 years in the Bluegrass region of Kentucky, just west of the eastern Mountain region. Both areas were rich in old-time music, but the Bluegrass was more populated and tied to mainstream culture. According to Encyclopedia Britannica,
“The Bluegrass region is markedly different from eastern Kentucky, both physically and culturally. With a more northward orientation than its Mountain neighbour, the Bluegrass is more affluent and more cosmopolitan…” https://www.britannica.com/place/Kentucky/Cultural-life
It likely had more of a Black presence since, historically, that is associated with areas that had plantations and prosperous farms that could afford slaves.
The 1910 US Census shows Strawberry at age 2 in Bourbon County, then just south of Bourbon, in Clark, in 1920 and 1930. His father managed a 900-acre tobacco farm (according to a ca. 1978 newspaper interview) and later worked at a horse track near Lexington (according to Strawberry’s son Robert “Junior” McCloud [1944-]). The fifth of six children, Strawberry lived with his parents, Willard and Nora, until about 1925. He learned his first tunes from his father and two older brothers. Nearby fiddlers (White except as noted) included: Doc Roberts,
Strawberry’s “favorite” fiddler and a major influence though their styles differ (Madison County; 1897-1978); Van Kidwell (Madison; 1901-85); Jim Booker, African American (Jessamine; 1872-1940); George Lee Hawkins (Bath; 1904-91); Darley Fulks (Wolfe; 1895-1990); and Walter McNew (Rockcastle; 1912-98). Older-style fiddlers such as John Salyer (Magoffin; 1882-1952), William Stepp (Lee, Magoffin; 1875-1957), and Manon Campbell (Letcher; 1890-1987), tended to be in the nearby but more isolated Mountain area.
Strawberry expanded his musical horizons first by playing fiddle and bass fiddle at house dances (he told of walking to one in winter having styled his hair with lard, only to have it melt in the heat of the dance) and fiddle contests (he met Doc Roberts, who became a mentor and friend, in 1923 at a contest in Winchester, the Clark County seat). In his later years (the latter 1970s) he told younger musicians and a Bloomington Herald-Times reporter that he had played with the Skillet Lickers in the late 1920s and with Clayton McMichen’s Georgia Wildcats from 1930 to ’34 (see the newspaper article “Once a Skillet Licker…” and his “Folk Festival Autobiography” elsewhere on this website). It’s possible, however, that he added the Skillet Lickers part of the story for effect, as two younger-generation musicians recall that a few years earlier (about 1974), he told them he had played bass fiddle with the Georgia Wildcats but, asked if he had played with the Skillet Lickers, responded that he had not. We so far have not found Strawberry’s name on any Wildcats recordings, but his detailed memories lend credence to his account. For instance, he told of having to be at Louisville radio station WHAS at 7 a.m. to do live spots for Howell Furniture Co. and Arm and Hammer baking soda, of earning $65 a week (“good money in them days”), and of life on the road: “We went as high as five days and nights and never see a bed, just sleep in the car a-traveling” (see his “Folk Festival Autobiography”).
Mixed Race Music. In Strawberry’s youth, the 1910s to mid ‘30s, old-time music was a mixed-race culture in this part of Kentucky (and elsewhere), even in the Jim Crow Era. As John Harrod wrote in notes for Traditional Fiddle Music of Kentucky: Along the Kentucky River (Rounder CD 0377):
It seemed as if music had once provided a common ground where the racial codes of society might be temporarily suspended. Bands 11 through 20 are from [W]hite fiddlers who learned these pieces directly from this older generation of [B]lack fiddlers in Madison and Jessamine Counties (1997:14).
In this period, the “old-time” fiddle repertoire expanded beyond hoedowns and hornpipes with British Isles roots to include country blues and rags with Southern U.S. mixed-race origins and popular songs of the 1890s to 1910s (see Tony Russell’s Rural Rhythm on “the wide repertoire” of recorded country music in the mid 1920s to early ‘30s [2015:43]).
Perhaps the combined factors of the early-1900s rise of (question-authority) popular youth culture, post-World War I “Roaring ‘20s,” and Prohibition (1920-33) drew young people, especially in rural areas with mixed-race populations, to sometimes forego Jim Crow strictures (which had mainly urban applications, such as separate water fountains and theater seating). Darley Fulks told of learning “Martha Campbell” about 1915 (when he was about 20) from Black musicians in Mt. Sterling (Montgomery County seat). Introducing “New Money” at a 1978 festival workshop, Strawberry said, “That came out in 1913. The Colored people played against the Whites in Louisville, Kentucky, at the state fair, and my brother [Jack] learned it there from a Colored guy by the name of Walter Jones. . . So I learnt what I know a little about it from my brother, and then Doc Roberts out of Richmond, Kentucky, learnt me the rest” (Andy Cahan recording of a 1978 KSU Folk Festival workshop). Historical accounts of Doc Roberts, Jim Booker, Taylor’s Kentucky Boys, Owen Walker, Charlie Walker, and Van Kidwell also testify to old-time music as a mixed-race culture in this area at this time.
Repertoire. Later in life, 40 years after becoming a heavy equipment operator, changing music from full-time occupation to “pastime,” and relocating to southern Indiana (1937), Strawberry’s repertoire had grown to include mid-century pieces such as “Tennessee Waltz” (released 1948), “Sugar-Foot Rag” (1949; included on this CD), and “Fraulein” (1957). But in his retirement, settled in Bloomington, Indiana, and inspired, perhaps, by its old-time-music-and-dance revival scene, he revitalized many tunes of his youth. They account for most of the tracks on this CD, and fall in three main categories:
1) group- or step-dance-oriented hoedowns from an earlier era. Many are cross-regional (“Soldier’s Joy,” “Cripple Creek,” “Cumberland Gap,” “Forky Deer,” “Mississippi Sawyer,” “Sally Goodin’,” “Black-Eyed Susie,” “Flop-Eared Mule,” “Turkey in the Straw,” “Run, Boy, Run”); others hearken to the Kentucky Mountain/Bluegrass area (“Martha Campbell,” “Coon Dog” [not the Virginia-based Spangler tune], “Waynesboro,” “Buck Creek Gal,” “Brickyard Joe” [not on this CD]);. The tune Strawberry called “Paddy on the Turnpike,” though possibly original, is also in this style;
2) fiddle versions of 1890s-1910s popular songs: “Sweet Bunch of Daisies” (1894), “I Don’t Love Nobody” (1896), “Frankie and Johnny” (1904), “Casey Jones” (1909), “Silver Bell” (1911);
3) couple- and jazz-dance-oriented (foxtrot, two-step, shimmy, stomp, waltz) rags and blues of the 1910s-30s: “Darktown Strutters’ Ball” (1917), “Wang Wang Blues” (1920), “All I’ve Got’s Done Gone” (1925), “New Money” (1928), “Carroll County Blues” (1929); and (the possibly original) “Shimmy-She-Wobble.”
Strawberry’s style of playing old hoedowns seems influenced by his affinity for the rags and blues that were the rage in his youth. As evidence:
1) He plays only in standard tuning, mostly in the keys of G and C, including some hoedowns that older-style fiddlers tend to play in cross-tuning (AEAE or GDGD). He thus sacrifices (or works harder to get) some qualities facilitated by key-specific “wildcat” tunings (AEAE, AEAC#, ADAE, GDAD, etc.), such as droning and bow-rocking across two or three strings.
2) Scarce or absent are: single-pitch bowed trills (what Tommy Jarrell called “catching up the slack,” see Brad Leftwich’s Old-Time Fiddle: Round Peak Style, pp. 14, 17); intricate melodic variations exemplified by Doc Roberts (Kentucky; 1897-1978) and Ed Haley (West Virginia, eastern Kentucky and elsewhere; 1885-1951); and the common variation of playing a low part high or high part low (he does this, however, in “Cumberland Gap” and “Mississippi Sawyer”).
3) Strawberry’s strong suits include slides (sometimes chords fingered on two strings); blue (slightly flatted) notes and tremolo, usually on the high string; syncopation (emphasis on the off-beat, often at the ends of phrases); and staccato, sometimes several notes in a row, usually in the low part, producing a syncopated woodpecker (rat-a-tat-tat) effect (my term).

Strawberry McCloud at the Wednesday Night Dance, with Ted Hall, banjo; Teri Klassen, guitar; and Donna Doughten, piano. Courtesy of Teri Klassen. Photographer unknown.
Martha Marmouzé, long a regular at Bloomington’s Wednesday Night Dance, said, “[Strawberry] was so much fun to dance to. The music was sassy. We would sway our hips and drag our feet.” See also Steve Hinnefeld’s “Memories of Strawberry” essay here online; and Strawberry and the Bloomington Ramblers in concert here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gr4BBPPdasQ and here (with dancers) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rsowWWpNAM at Eagle Creek Folk Festival in Indianapolis, probably 1977. See also Bruce Greene’s essay, “John Salyer’s Fiddle Style” (1992) https://oldtime-central.com/john-salyer-1882-1952-fiddler-from-magoffin-county-eastern-kentucky/
A factor in Strawberry’s style that likely promoted slides on the high string and possibly blue notes is that a 1936 crane accident during construction of the Fort Knox “gold vault” damaged his left-hand little finger. Doc Roberts visited him and told him how to compensate:
He said he’d show me how to slide my music, and he’d show me a good bow action. And I’ve got that today… He said the two most important things in music is bow action and good timing… I can’t use my hand like I used to ‘cause it gives me a little trouble by going to sleep. I have an artificial tube in my arm. (See “Strawberry’s Folk Festival Autobiography”)

Strawberry McCloud with Andy Cahan and Tina Liza Jones, Kent State Folk Festival, 1978. Photographer: Kerry Blech.
Four decades later, it was Strawberry who visited Doc, hearing he had had a stroke. “We was crying like babies about old times. He never was beat in a contest, and now he can’t play a lick” (see “Strawberry’s Folk Festival Autobiography”). Doc died in 1978, Strawberry in 1980.
Many of Strawberry’s versions are irregular, or “crooked,” having what Kentucky tunes scholar Bruce Greene has called “structural freedom.” This means that the parts are not the standard length of eight or 16 beats but add or drop beats. Bruce observes it as a “fairly common” feature of older eastern Kentucky fiddlers such as John Salyer (1882-1952) and Manon Campbell (1890-1987). But given that many blues and rags are crooked, Strawberry may have perceived that playing a crooked version of an old tune enhanced its appeal to then-contemporary (1920s-early ‘30s) taste. Some comments he made when performing (captured on tape but not on this CD) suggest he knew that crooked versions were challenging and might entertain audiences and impress other musicians (including contest judges). Upon playing “Tennessee Wagoner,” he asks, “You ever hear it played like that?”; of “New Money,” he assures, “It’s easy to play it if you listen real close”; of “Billy in the Lowground,” “The changes are a little different than most people played”; and of “Sally Goodin’,” “I play it a little different.”

John Willie Myers (1918-2010), Strawberry’s nephew, shown here in Western dress at a family reunion in Bloomington, followed him readily on challenging crooked tunes such as “All I Got’s Done Gone.” Courtesy of Junior McCloud. Photographer unknown.
Clawhammer banjo. On the other hand, Strawberry’s embrace of clawhammer banjo accompaniment in his later years (the 1970s) upholds the comment in his “Folk Festival Autobiography” that he preferred “old-fashioned” music and had left the Georgia Wildcats partly because they were getting too “classy,” adding drums and saxophones (see the Wildcats’ 1938 recording, “[Can’t get nothin’ from old-time fiddlin’,] I’m Gonna Learn to Swing” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzDESkKhfLk). In this respect, Strawberry preserved an aspect of old-style tunes that was falling from fashion in the 1920s-30s. Clawhammer banjo was largely absent from country rags and blues of that time; Alabama’s Stripling Brothers, Mississippi’s Narmour and Smith, and Tennessee’s Harkreader and Poteet, for instance, were fiddle-guitar duos. Doc Roberts recorded mostly with just guitar; the Georgia Wildcats had no clawhammer banjo. The Skillet Lickers sometimes had one, but fiddles, guitar, and vocals dominate on their recordings. A possible exception to this trend is Taylor’s Kentucky Boys’ recordings of “Grey Eagle” and “Forked Deer” (both with Black fiddler Jim Booker; 1927). Marion Underwood (White) plays old-timey-style banjo but it’s hard to tell if it’s clawhammer or finger-picking (thanks to Paul Brown and Brad Leftwich for input on this). Clawhammer banjo probably was more common in Kentucky’s Mountain region (which had fewer recording artists).

Strawberry McCloud with David Molk and Randy Marmouzé, New Harmony Festival of Traditional Music, 1977. Photographer: Gary Stanton.
Strawberry thus retained aspects of pre-World War I old-time music even as he jazzed up old-style tunes with techniques of mixed-race blues and rags. Banjo-player Randy Marmouzé (then in his 20s) followed him into this territory, adapting clawhammer rhythm to blues and rags even as fiddlers of Strawberry’s generation adapted old-time bowing to rags, blues, and popular songs.
Distinctive versions. Two factors that may underlie Strawberry’s distinctive versions are:
1) Early-1900s conditions in Kentucky’s Bluegrass region meant that old-time musicians in many cases got tunes via short-term face-to-face contact (such as at fiddle contests). Strawberry, and probably most other fiddlers, did not read music (even if they had, tune transcriptions likely were hard to come by) and, especially in rural areas, lacked electrical service for phonographs and radios. In these memory-dependent conditions, tunes inevitably changed, especially crooked and melodically complex ones.
Darley Fulks, born in 1895, recalled the challenge of remembering a tune he heard about 1915 when he was far from home without his fiddle:
Well, I was horseback and I had fifty mile to ride and I lived over here at Bethel… And I never got home til after daylight, and I hummed that piece all the way home so I wouldn’t forget it. And another one they played was “Paddy on the Turnpike” but I thought more of “Martha Campbell” because it had more music in it. I couldn’t hold them both and I held on to that one. Now that coarse [low] part, they don’t play that no more, but them [C]olored folks, they played it. https://fieldrecorder.org/darley-fulks-kentucky-wild-horse-tune-notes/
Under these conditions, the pre-cassette recorder-and-smart phone-era, absence of technology promoted development of different tune versions.
2) The ability to develop a distinctive version or create a new tune, as opposed to accurately executing an established version, may have been a mark of a master fiddler, inspiring admiration and respect. The back-story of a C-tune that Strawberry brought back from the 1977 West Virginia State Folk Festival in Glenville suggests how this process might have occurred. He called it “Virginia Rag” and said he’d heard it at Glenville but gave no specific fiddler’s name as his source.
With input from West Virginia fiddler and tunes scholar Gerry Milnes, we realized that the first part of Strawberry’s “Virginia Rag” is close to that of “Fun’s All Over,” a tune played in West Virginia and eastern Kentucky. But the second part differs. Ohio fiddler and tunes scholar Whitt Mead is reminded of the low part of “Little Brown Jug;” the low part of “Texas Gals” came to my mind.
Ohio musician Joe LaRose, who with other members of the Radio Aces stringband had jammed with Strawberry at Glenville (old-time tunes scholar and fiddler Kerry Blech of the Radio Aces recorded the session), recalled that the band had been playing eastern Kentucky fiddler J.P. Fraley’s version of “Fun’s All Over” at that festival. Thus, a possible scenario is that Strawberry heard the Radio Aces playing the tune at Glenville, liked it, perhaps played along with it, tried to memorize it (possibly recalling it from his youth in Kentucky), practiced it when he got home, filled in what he didn’t remember with phrases from other tunes, and not knowing the name, made one up that recalls where he learned it (“[West] Virginia”) and the jaunty setting he gave it (“Rag”). Rather than give up on the tune because he didn’t remember all of it, he pro-actively built it into a new tune he could show off to appreciative friends back home.
Conclusion. Strawberry’s music is a lens onto how folk musicians engage with change, striking a balance between fascination with (or rejection of) what preceded and what is new on the scene. He held on to the old tunes, the legacy of those who came before, but re-tailored them, sacrificing some features but invigorating them with others. It’s a testimonial to the endurance of the music that its tunes are plastic; given an adventurous taste and sufficient ingenuity (driven by necessity to invention, perhaps, when lacking access to the source), a fiddler can hitch a tune template to one style or another, varying notes and rhythm.
Old-time-music devotees will recognize most of Strawberry’s tunes but be wide-eyed (or shake their heads) at some of his settings. Coming of age in what music historian Tony Russell calls the “halcyon age of recorded country music,” he preserved old tunes but adapted (some might say “corrupted”) them to techniques of then-modern rags, blues, and popular songs, even as popular taste moved on to Western swing (late 1930s), then Western-style country (1940s) (Russell 2015:43, 40) and bluegrass (1940s). To the credit of his young protégés, they open-mindedly embraced this uncharted concept of “old-time.”
It took a community to put this project together, and we are thankful to these members of ours who helped bring it to fruition.
John Bealle, John Beland, Kerry Blech and the Kent State Folk Festival, Harry Bolick, Jon Bowman, Paul Brown, Mike Bryant, Andy Cahan, Andrea Carter, Jim Cauthen, Joyce Cauthen, Jeff Claus, Ron Cole, Donna Doughten, Stephen Downey, Wayne Erbsen, Mark Feddersen, Dan Gellert, Susie Goehring, Tim Goodall, Ted Hall RIP, John Harrod, Karen Horton, Hawk Hubbard, Judy Hyman, Michael Johnson, Joe LaRose, Brad Leftwich, Laura Ley, Theresa Malone, Bill Mansfield, Martha Marmouzé, Randy Marmouzé RIP, Junior McCloud, Whitt Mead, Gerry Milnes and the Augusta Heritage Workshop, Ren Oschin RIP, Chris Rietz, Gary Stanton and WFIU radio station, Judy (McCloud) Taylor RIP, Ben Thompson, Jill Vass, Larry Warren and the Slippery Hill tunes website.
Augusta Arts and Culture website https://augustaartsandculture.org/document/strawberry-mccloud-tunes-1-of-2-10-21-1976/
Bealle, John. Old-Time Music and Dance: Community and Folk Revival. Quarry Books (2005)
Berea College Special Collections and Archives website
Bloomington (Indiana) Herald-Times, Tom Ritchie (staff writer). “Once a Skillet Licker, Now an Art Perpetuator: Strawberry McCloud—Fiddlin’ and Fishin’” (ca. 1978)
Bluegrass Messengers website
Carter, Thomas, with Thomas Sauber. “I Never Could Play Alone”: The Emergence of the New River Valley String Band, 1875-1915. In Arts in Earnest: North Carolina Folklife, eds. Daniel W. Patterson and Charles G. Zug III. Duke University Press (1990)
Digital Commons @ Connecticut College
Greene, Bruce. “John Salyer’s Fiddle Style” Oldtime Central website (1992) https://oldtime-central.com/john-salyer-1882-1952-fiddler-from-magoffin-county-eastern-kentucky/
Harrod, John. Comments for Darley Fulks: Kentucky Wild Horse. Field Recorders’ Collective 716 (2015) https://fieldrecorder.bandcamp.com/album/frc-716-darley-fulks-kentucky-wild-horse-john-harrod-collection
Harrod, John. Tune Notes for Darley Fulks: Kentucky Wild Horse. FRC 716 (2015) https://fieldrecorder.org/darley-fulks-kentucky-wild-horse-tune-notes/
Harrod, John. Track notes for Kentucky Fiddlers Home Recordings Vol. 1. FRC 732 (2020) https://fieldrecorder.org/ky-fiddlers-vol1-track-notes/
Internet Archive
Jamison, Phil. Hoedowns, Reels, and Frolics: Roots and Branches of Southern Appalachian Dance. University of Illinois (2015)
Klassen, Teri. “Strawberry McCloud and Old-Time Music in Bloomington,” PowerPoint presentation at the Bloomington Early Music Festival.
Leftwich, Brad. Old-Time Fiddle: Round Peak Style. Mel Bay (2007)
McCloud, Robert L. (Strawberry). Strawberry’s Folk Festival Autobiography (ca. 1978)
McCloud, Strawberry, and the Bloomington Ramblers, “Bloomington Breakdown,” video with Bloomington dancers at Eagle Creek Folk Festival, Indianapolis, probably 1977. Posted by Brad Leftwich https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rsowWWpNAM
McCloud, Strawberry, and the Bloomington Ramblers, “Sally Goodin’,” video at Eagle Creek Folk Festival, Indianapolis, probably 1977. Posted by Brad Leftwich https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gr4BBPPdasQ
[The] Milnes Collection. Recordings by Gerry Milnes https://augustaartsandculture.org/document/strawberry-mccloud-tunes-1-of-2-10-21-1976/Notable Kentucky African Americans Database
Oldtime Tunes.com
Rorrer, Kinney. Rambling Blues: The Life and Songs of Charlie Poole. Old Time Music (1982)
Russell, Tony. Rural Rhythm: The Story of Old-Time Country Music in 78 Records. Oxford University Press (2021)
Slippery Hill tunes website
Southern Folklife Collection at University of North Carolina libraries (listed as SFC Audio Cassette 637, “Strawberry McLeod [sic] and Wayne Erbsen,” side 1; and side 2 https://dc.lib.unc.edu/cdm/search/collection/sfc/searchterm/sfcaudiocassette_637!20525/field/contri!escri/mode/exact!exact/conn/and!and/order/relatid/ad/asc/cosuppress/0
Stanton, Gary. “All Counties Have Blues: County Blues as an Emergent Genre of Fiddle Tunes in Eastern Mississippi” In North Carolina Folklore Journal (November 1980) https://digital.ncdcr.gov/digital/collection/p16062coll43/id/3996.
Traditional Fiddle Music of Kentucky: Up the Ohio and Licking Rivers, Vol. 1. Recorded by Guthrie T. Meade, John Harrod, and Mark Wilson. Annotated by Mark Wilson. Rounder CD 0376 (1997)
Traditional Fiddle Music of Kentucky: Along the Kentucky River, Vol. 2. Recorded by Guthrie T. Meade, John Harrod, and Mark Wilson. Annotated by John Harrod. Rounder CD 0377 (1997)
Traditional Tune Archive website
Wikipedia
Youtube
Robert Lee “Strawberry” McCloud – Bloomington Breakdown – FRC749
By Teri Klassen
Total Time 73:35
Robert Lee “Strawberry” McCloud – Bloomington Breakdown – FRC749
Provided by Gary Stanton, 2021
When Strawberry McCloud was hired to perform at the 1978 Kent State Folk Festival, he was asked to provide his “bio” for festival publicity and programming. In response, he wrote this autobiographical letter to Kerry Blech, one of that year’s festival organizers. The letter was probably typed by his partner, Ren Oschin. We’ve left the text as it was written, including typos, misspellings, and Strawberry’s references to Gid Tanner as “Gib.” Also, it’s likely that his account of encountering the Skillet Lickers on the streets of Nashville in 1925 and then playing with them for a couple of years is a case of “resumé enhancement;” two younger-generation musicians recall that a few years before this was written (about 1974), he told them he had played bass fiddle with the Georgia Wildcats but, asked if he had played with the Skillet Lickers, responded that he had not.”
Dear Kerry
I was born 1907 the 11th day of November in Bourbon County, Kentucky. I had 2 older brothers, 2 older sisters and one younger sister. I started learning how to play the fiddle when I was 8 years old. I used to sneak under the bed and steal my brother’s fiddle out. My dad got tired of whipping me for it so he made me a fiddle out of a cigar box. The first tune I ever learnt was Liza Jane. And my dad liked it so well he didn’t care if I played on the old fiddle then.
The fiddle I have now my mother’s grandfather found it hanging on the wall during the civil war. It’s an old German Hopf. I promised my poor old mother on her death bed I’d never sell it.
I used to play for square dances with my brothers when I was 12 years old. I played the little fiddle and the bass fiddle.
In 1923 I met the famous Doc Roberts at a fiddler’s contest. I got 3rd prize–it was the first prize I ever got–and we got to be real friends. He sure learnt me a lot about playing the fiddle.
I met Gib Tanner in 1925. I met him coming down the street at Nashville, Tennessee. He seen me carryin my fiddle and he stopped me and introduced hiself and asked me how long I’d been playin. And I told him I started learning when I was 8 years old. He said well you ought to be pretty good by now, let’s go up to the Grand Old Opry and we’ll play a little in the practise room. He liked the way I played and asked me would I be willing to travel around with him and play for dances and shows. Well I was wanting to play music so I told him yes. I played with Gib Tanner and The Skillett Lickers till 1929.
I met Clayt McMichem, he was in the band. He was from Georgia. One afternoon after we performed he asked me would I like to join him with his band–he was going to name it The Georgia Wildcats. I told him I hated to leave Gib but he offered to pay $65 a week and that was good money in them days. Gib said he couldn’t pay me that much so I went with Clayt. Gib said he was glad to see me do better.
With Gib I played with John Carson, Bert Layne and Clayt was the fiddlers; Riley Pucket and Sturtz was guitar pickers.
So in 1930 I went with Clayt. We played for dances and a lot of big celebrations at the parks and we played for commercials over the radio. Arm and Hammer and Harold Furniture Company in Louisville Kentucky every morning at 7. I met Paul Sap and Slim Bryant, both of them guitar pickers. Riley played some with Clayt too. We played in a lot of contests in those days and I met Natchi the Indian in Cincinati Ohio. He was awful good.
I stayed with Clayt til 1934 and it seemed like the old fashioned music was changing into more modern with Clayt bringing in saxaphones and drums which I didn’t like. It was too classy a music for me. Also we went as high as 5 days and nights and never see a bed, just sleep in the car a traveling.
I had a chance to go to operating heavy equipment with my brother. It was a lot better money and I could stay at home more. I was married then and had a little girl and I liked to be at home a lot. So I quit music, only just playing on weekends in a jam session.
I got my hand smashed flat in 1936 running a crane working on the United States gold vault in Fort Knox, Kty. And they wanted to take my left hand off and I wouldn’t let them. I’m thankful to god I didn’t let them take it off. I carried it in a cast for 16 months.
My friend Doc Roberts heard about me gettin hurt and he came to see me. I told him I lost the use of my little finger. It was hurtin my music awful bad. He told me not to let that worry me. He said he’d show me how to slide my music and he’d show me a good bow action. And I’ve got that today. He said that’s half of the battle was a good bow action. He said the 2 most important things in music is bow action and good timing. I thank him very much, bless his old heart, to this day.
I went and visited him twice last year and we was crying like babies about old times. He never was beat in a contest and now he can’t play a lick. He’s paralyzed in his bow arm–he had a stroke.
I never went back to music but I never gived it up either. I always played it a couple times a week.
I never could play no note music, just all by ear.
When I retired in 1972 we got a little band and we play as past time. The name of the band is Strawberry McCloud and the Bloomington Ramblers. Strawberry is my nickname I got operating heavy equipment. Otherwise I was knowed by Bob McCloud.
I can’t use my hand like I used to cause it gives me a little trouble by going to sleep. I have an artificial tube in my arm.
This summer a friend gave a fish fry and a friend and me played for 11 hours one day and 6 hours the next day and never played the same tune twice except one by request.
I’d rather play music than anything else in my life–almost. I really like music–old fashioned music.
I have 7 kids and none of them are interested in the fiddle but I have 2 grandchildren that really like music. I think one will really make a fiddler, he’s only 11 now but he’s got all the signs of making a good fiddler. He’s got the right time and the right bow action. He don’t know how to play yet but he’s got it in him. I got a great-grandson who is only one year old and he likes to pat his hands and tries to dance when he hears music.
This is about all I can think of now Kerry. I guess I’ll sign off.
Lowe Stokes, Georgia Fiddler – FRC723
By Joe LaRose
A previous version of this article served as liner notes for Heritage 048, Georgia Fiddle Bands, ©1983 Heritage Records.
Of the many legendary fiddlers from old time music’s “Golden Age,” the period of commercial recording from the mid-twenties to the early thirties, Lowe Stokes seemed to have an aura of myth that went beyond his superb fiddling on records by the Skillet Lickers and others. Continue reading
FRC718 – Carlton Rawlings – Bath County, Kentucky Fiddler
by John Harrod
Northeastern Kentucky was still a hotbed of old style fiddling in the 1970s and ’80s when Gus Meade, Mark Wilson, Bruce Greene, and I began making regular visits to record and learn from the many interesting local fiddlers who were still going strong at the time. We were astounded at the sophistication and complexity of the styles, the level of performance, and the dramatic Continue reading
Ola Belle Reed (FRC203)
by Thomas Polis (For further information go to www.olabellereed.com)
Ola Belle Reed was born Ola Wave Campbell on August 17, 1916, in Lansing, North Carolina. She was one of thirteen children born to Arthur Harrison Campbell and Ella May Osborne Campbell. The Campbell family ancestors had moved to the New River Valley of western North Carolina sometime around the 1760’s. Arthur Harrison was an educated man who spent his life as a Continue reading
Roan Mountain Hilltoppers In Concert (FRC201)
with Frank Weston
This interview originally appeared in issue 45 (Spring 1989) of Tony Russell’s Old Time Music magazine. Used by permission Continue reading
The Ross County Farmers – 1948 Radio Shows (FRC307)
By Betty Seymour
Phone conversation w/ Betty Seymour 2/27/07 (Sue Goehring)
Visit w/ Betty Seymour 03-08-07 (Lynn Frederick) Continue reading
John Ashby and the Free State Ramblers (FRC108)
By Ms. Nancy M. Sessions
Here is my personal Family History, and memories that have been told to me, by my Mother, Mrs. Agnes Adelia Ashby Sessions, as well as her Sister, my Aunt, Mrs. Marie Elizabeth Scott Ashby Small, as well! I have a good, and a long memory! I am only very happy that it serves a wonderful purpose; to give out history about my Dear Uncle John C. Ashby! Continue reading
John Ashby John Ashby and the Free State Ramblers (FRC108)
By Sandy Hofferth (original article appeared in the Old Time Herald)
Skip Ashby, a winner at the 2005 Appalachian String Band Music Festival at Clifftop, WV, is the latest in a long line of fiddlers going back several generations and a link in a chain of musicians in the Warrenton area of Fauquier County, VA, that goes back a century and a half. The Free State Ramblers, one of the longest running bands ever, started in the 1930s and are still active Continue reading
See The Indian Creek Delta Boys (FRC607)
Known for the many fine and obscure fiddle tunes learned from senior players in their own geographical area, the Indian Creek Delta Boys of Charleston, Illinois were an influential string band from the 1970s through the 1990s. Continue reading
Plank Road (FRC606)
By Brad Leftwich, Al Tharp and Odell McGuire
In the early 1970s it seemed like communities of people who loved and lived old-time music and dancing were popping up like mushrooms all over the country. One of the most vibrant was in Lexington, Virginia. I ran across a bunch of musicians from Lexington at the 1972 fiddlers convention in Independence, Va. (Wade Ward’s stomping grounds) and had such a great time Continue reading
The Hurricane Ridgerunners (FRC604)
Mark Graham has been playing old-time music on the Marine Band harmonica for over 30 years. In that time he has played hundreds of concerts and dances and performed with many of the luminaries of Southern old-time and bluegrass music including Tim O’Brien, Laurie Lewis, Dirk Powell, The Horseflies, The Chicken Chokers, Tom Sauber, Pete Sutherland, Bad Livers and Continue reading