MEETING PEG LEG HOWELL (This is the next of my occasional posts about my field recording days—and, in this case, also my celebration of Atlanta blues. This is the FIRST OF TWO POSTS about my relationship with Peg Leg Howell.) The first two blues artists I recorded in Atlanta (in 1963), Willie Rockomo and Bruce Upshaw, told me about another local bluesman they had heard. To locate him, they suggested, go to Shorters Barbershop on Decatur Street and ask about him and his whereabouts. I, along with two friends, Roger Brown and Jack Boozer, went to Shorters Barbershop and asked folks hanging around outside if they knew of this blues singer, but none DID. So I decided, What the hell; why not ask about Peg Leg Howell?—the first of the great Atlanta blues artists. And, to my great surprise, EVERYONE knew him AND his whereabouts! We picked two of the men to take us to Howell, (I wrote on the liner notes to the album I later recorded of him). We rode about a mile past Capitol Square, turned onto a dirt road and pulled up in front of Howell’s small and shabby house. Our guides were knocking loudly on the door when we heard the faint voice of an obviously very old man telling us to come in. The house was dark and musty, but the moment I saw Howell sitting in his wheelchair in the back room, I knew it was him. He appeared to be very old, was unshaven, and had no legs. Just seconds after I introduced myself, he eagerly reached for the guitar I was holding. He took it in his large, worn hands and immediately began singing and playing. He sang in a deep, moaning, almost inaudible voice, but we could still make out the words. His guitar playing was rusty and he was unable to maintain a consistent rhythm on it. We learned later that this was because he had not touched a guitar since 1934, so upset was he over the death that year of his close friend and fiddle player, Eddie Anthony. Several nights later we took Howell to a friends house to record. He seemed in much higher spirits than when we had first met him; he even smiled for the first time. When we entered the house a small girl walked up and looked at him inquisitively. Howell looked down at her, put his hand on her head, and said with pride and tenderness, You know who I am? Im Peg Leg Howell. Our interest and attention, it seemed, had inspired in him a new sense of pride and confidence. Here is a solo performance by Howell recorded by Columbia back int the twenties: https://youtube/watch?v=6o_8xPseM9U
Posted on: Thu, 01 Jan 2015 16:40:48 +0000
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