John sent me the link to this picture and so many memories came rushing back. Our friends Vicky (far right) and Malcolm (3rd from right) were members of this seminal string band. (Complete information about the group HERE.)
Vicky and Malcolm were, more or less, responsible for our settling here fifty-some years ago. In 1960 Vicky and I had lived across the hall from each other during our freshman year at Emory and, as we were both sorely missing our sweethearts at other colleges, we spent a lot of time together. ('No,' I remember her saying once, 'I don't want to go for a walk--I'll just stay here and read Malcolm's letters and cry.')
The following year I transferred to UFlorida where John was, but Vicky and I kept in touch. She and Malcolm married the next year (I was there and caught the bouquet,) and they spent their junior year studying in France.
Back in the states, Malcolm was in grad school at Chapel Hill and it was then that they became interested in old time music and the Fuzzy Mountain String Band came into being.
After several years, the Owens (now three) moved to a mountain farm in Madison County, NC and, as we were still writing back and forth, it seemed a good idea to stop for a visit as we set out north to find a place to live back in '73.
We had meant to look at land in New York State, maybe even venture into Canada, but we found ourselves bewitched by the front porch music and the beauty of the land.
And here we settled. The Owens helped us find our farm and helped us in numerous ways. Their sons played with ours; we swapped work and meals--they were an integral part of our life for so many years. Indeed, the opening scene of Signs in the Blood is from an experience of Vicky's, and the entire Little Sylvie tale is based on a local legend Malcolm told me.
Time moves on. Vicky and Malcolm are both gone now. But their memories are, indeed, a blessing.
