Three Nights- Tate (VA) 1962 Foss

Three Nights- Tate (VA) 1962 Foss

[My Title. Dan Tate was well known to collectors from c. 1940 onward]

Dan Tate bio- info from Mike Yates- Far in the Mountains

Dan Tate was born in 1896 and must at one time have known a phenomenal number of songs and banjo tunes.  Though frail and almost totally blind, his welcome to a complete stranger was as warm and genuine as could be.  After recording many of his songs in 1979 and 1980 I called to see him again in 1983.  "Did I sing you Lily Monroe?" he asked when I walked through his doorway.  "It must be about England, 'cause they send for a 'London' doctor to heal up his wounds." He also recounted how one recent snowfall had almost ended his life.  "I thought I was a gonner, Mike.  I woke up and it was quiet, real quiet; and cold, real cold.  The stove had gone out and I had no wood inside.  I tried to open the door but it just wouldn't open.  The house had just about disappeared in the snow.  Well...I wrapped some blankets around me and sat in the chair, expecting to die.  And do you know? It wasn't long before I heard my friends coming to dig me out!" Strength of character, tenacity and sensitivity are words that I'd use to describe Dan and his neighbours.

Dan had been recorded for the Library of Congress by Professor Fletcher Collins, of Elon College, NC.  Library records date these recording to 1941, although Dan was adamant that they had been made in 1938.  I had heard one or two of Dan's recordings prior to meeting him and found that he still just loved to sing.  One morning he began to talk about 'the war'.  I thought that he was talking about the Great War, until he began to describe the American Civil War Battle of Shiloh.  As a young man he had known people who had fought in the Civil War.  Never before had history seemed so real!

Three Nights- Dan Tate (Fancy Gap, VA) 1962 George Foss

First night when I came home as drunk as I could be,
I found a coat a-hanging on the rack where my coat ought to be.
Come here, my little wifie, explain this thing to me,
How come a coat a-hanging on the rack where my coat ought to be?
You blind fool, you crazy fool, can't you plainly see?
It's nothing but a bed-quilt your grandma sent to me.
I've travelled this world over a thousand miles or more,
But pockets upon a bed-quilt I never have seen before.

The second night that I come home as drunk as I could be,
I found a horse in the stable where my coat ought to be.
Come here, my little wifie, explain this thing to me,
How come a coat a-hanging on the rack where my coat ought to be?
You blind fool, you crazy fool, can't you plainly see?
It's nothing but a bed-quilt your grandma sent to me.
I've travelled this world over a thousand miles or more,
But pockets upon a bed-quilt I never have seen before.

The third night that I came home as drunk as I could be,
I found a head on the pillow where my head ought to be.
Come here, my little wifie, 'n' explain this thing to me,
How come another head on the pillow where my head ought to be?
You blind fool, you crazy fool, can't you plainly see?
It's nothing but a cabbage-head your grandma sent to me.
I travelled this world over a thousand miles or more,
But a mustache on a cabbage-head I never have seen before.