Had the good fortune to attend a Johnny McEvoy concert in Sligo on Sunday night. Have seen him a few times through the years and have many of his song numbered among my favourites. Didn’t know til last night that the first song he wrote “Long Long Before Your Time” was penned outside Kennedy’s in Doocastle! Always enjoy hearing the story of a song. I like this one too – the story of his love for his late wife, Odette, R.I.P. “The Planter’s Daughter”
Earlier today I was in Kilmovee School and we talked a bit about peace and the need to pray for peace in a very troubled world. I told the children that I once heard a lovely poem that spoke of the cruelty of war. I even remembered where I first heard it. It was on a recording of Johnny McEvoy singing “The Town I Love So Well” and that I was sorry I don’t have the recording anymore. As I spoke, the teacher brought up the words of the poem on the whiteboard and we looked at it together. The poem is called “The Box” and its message seems tragically all too relevant right now. Maybe you might take a look, share a thought and say a prayer for all who are suffering because people have, once again, “battered in the lid”
The Box by Lascelles Abercrombie
Once upon a time, in the land of Hush-A-Bye, Around about the wondrous days of yore, They came across a kind of box Bound up with chains and locked with locks And labeled “Kindly do not touch; it’s war.” A decree was issued round about, and all with a flourish and a shout And a gaily colored mascot tripping lightly on before. Don’t fiddle with this deadly box,Or break the chains, or pick the locks. And please don’t ever play about with war. The children understood. Children happen to be good And they were just as good around the time of yore. They didn’t try to pick the locksOr break into that deadly box. They never tried to play about with war. Mommies didn’t either; sisters, aunts, grannies neither ‘Cause they were quiet, and sweet, and pretty In those wondrous days of yore. Well, very much the same as now, And not the ones to blame somehow For opening up that deadly box of war. But someone did. Someone battered in the lid And spilled the insides out across the floor. A kind of bouncy, bumpy ball made up of guns and flags And all the tears, and horror, and death that comes with war. It bounced right out and went bashing all about, Bumping into everything in store.And what was sad and most unfair Was that it didn’t really seem to care Much who it bumped, or why, or what, or for. It bumped the children mainly. And I’ll tell you this quite plainly, It bumps them every day and more, and more, And leaves them dead, and burned, and dying Thousands of them sick and crying. ‘Cause when it bumps, it’s really very sore. Now there’s a way to stop the ball. It isn’t difficult at all. All it takes is wisdom, and I’m absolutely sure That we can get it back into the box,And bind the chains, and lock the locks. But no one seems to want to save the children anymore. Well, that’s the way it all appears, ’cause it’s been bouncing round for years and years In spite of all the wisdom wizzed since those wondrous days of yore And the time they came across the box, Bound up with chains and locked with locks, And labeled “Kindly do not touch; it’s war.”
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and here’s the song … the last word of the poem is there. I’d love to hear McEvoy recite this again.
And another fine song from one of my favourite singers ….
Everywhere we look or listen this week, there have been reminders of the Titanic and, more tragically, its sinking one hundred years ago this night (14th April). I just had Mass in Urlaur and, by way of reflection and remembrance, shared a song I like a lot. It was written by Johnny McEvoy and tells of a meeting on the docks in Cobh between a young man and a newly married couple who were setting sail for New York. The teller of the story in song felt a sense of envy but also the need to wish the couple every good wish as they set out in search of their dream. There was however, a sound in the air, that left a question ……
We think of all the John Williams and their wives, of sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers who shared that journey and possibly a dream. A hundred years has passed but it’s important to remember. Johnny McEvoy does well on that front. We’ll remember with him …..
When last I saw John Williams, a young man full of pride
His lovely bride of just four days was standing by his side
He smiled and took me by the hand, saying “Boyo can’t you see
I’ve seen the last of windswept bogs and bogs the last of me!
And the peelers and the landlords and the risings of the moon
And if ever I return again, ’twill be too bloody soon”
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, wife
Sailed away into the night
Where they’ll wind up no-one knows
Round and round the story goes
He said “I’ll go and take my chance in far off New York Town
For they say there’s lots of work there and a good man’s not put down
And with my lassie by my side we’ll build a better home
And when the sea trip’s over lads we never more will roam”
So we said farewell upon the quay, there was nothing left to do
But to pray for John and his lovely bride, that their dreams
might all come true
How I envied you, John Williams, and your lovely fair haired bride
To be sailing on that mighty ship across the ocean wide
For she’s the finest liner, that was ever built by man
And they say there’s naught can sink her, no not even God’s own hand
Man’s pride can be his own downfall, that big ship sailed form home
And I thought I heard the banshee cry, and it chilled me to the bone
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, wife
Sailed away into the night
Where they’ll wind up no-one knows
Round and round the story goes
Round and around the icebergs flow.
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