Se også;
See also;
"Talking Dustbowl Blues"
Opkaldt efter den mand, som skulle blive den 28. Præsident i USA, blev Woodrow "Woody" Wilson Guthrie født den 14. juli 1912, i Okemah, Oklahoma, af Nora og Charley Guthrie. Woody var den tredje af parrets fem børn, men Charley havde ingen problemer med at støtte sin voksende familie.
Hans job i ejendomsbranchen gik godt, og han var også med i politik.
Named after the man who was to become the twenty-eighth president of the United States, Woodrow "Woody" Wilson Guthrie was born on July 14, 1912, in Okemah, Oklahoma, to Nora and Charley Guthrie. Woody was the third of the couple's five children, but Charley had no trouble supporting his growing family. His real estate business did well and he also dabbled in politics.
Woodrow Wilson 'Woody' Guthrie var en amerikansk protestsanger og sangskriver.
Han blev født den 14. juli 1912 i Okemah, Oklahoma og døde den 3. oktober 1967 på Queens Hospital i New York.
Woodrow Wilson "Woody" Guthrie was a U.S. protest singer and songwriter.
He was born July 14. 1912 in Okemah, Oklahoma and died October 3. 1967 at Queens Hospital in New York.
Woody Guthrie troede på det arbejdende folk, demokrati, fred, retfærdighed og menneskerettigheder, og han sang mod uretfærdighed rundt omkring i landet.
Woody Guthrie believed in the working people, democracy, peace, justice and human rights and he sang out against injustice around the land.
Woody Guthrie and Marjorie Mazia
Woody Guthrie:
Natural born anti-fascist
by Stetson Kennedy.
by Stetson Kennedy.
“Do you have any evidence of Woody having ever committed any
disloyal act?” my lawyer/friend/neighbour asked the two FBI agents who had
dropped into his office to ask if it were true that “one Woodrow Wilson Guthrie”
was staying at my home on the outskirts of Jacksonville, Florida.
“Well, there’s this,” one of them replied, fishing from
his briefcase an 8x10 photograph of Woody holding his guitar with the
inscription writ large across its face, THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS!
It did, too. From the very first moment that fascism
reared its head on the world scene - first in Mussolini’s Italy, then aped in
Hitler’s Nazi Germany, and then imposed by the two of them in Franco’s Falangist
Spain - Woody was singing his heart out against it. And long after the Axis
defeat in 1945, Woody remained a militant anti-fascist until he drew his last
breath on 3 October 1967.
That figures, because fascism was the mortal enemy of everything
Woody believed in - people, unions, democracy, human rights, justice, peace,
world brotherhood, you name it.
So Woody didn’t have to wait until Mussolini gloated, “We
fascists have ridden roughshod over the putrid corpse of parliamentary
democracy, and will do so again if need be!” or for Il Duce’s son-in-law Count
Ciano to report how “troops of Ethiopian horsemen blossomed like roses when
bombed from the air”. Or for Hitler to spell out in Mein Kampf his master plan
for 1,000 years of world dominion, and a “final solution for European Jewry”. Or
the Axis-backed fascist overthrow of the republican government of Spain. Much
less the tardy US declaration of war against the Axis.
Fact is, a lot of us cut our political wisdom teeth on the
works of those British socialists, Sidney and Beatrice Webb, who ended one of
their 1930s books with the question, “What are we to do?” and answered “Build
the Popular Front against fascism!”
Like the book Hard-Hitting Songs for Hard-Hit People, which Woody
put together with folk musicologist Alan Lomax in 1941, Woody’s life work
consisted of making up and singing songs to strengthen the arm of the poor, and
especially their unions, in their struggle to shake off the shackles of the
rich. Since the function of fascism was the exact opposite, Woody was what you
might call a natural-born anti-fascist.
But he said it - and sang it - best. During World War II the US
Office of War Information hired him to write some “morale-building songs”, but
his were so explicitly anti-fascist not one was ever released. (The War
Department did put out a four-page booklet to tell servicemen what fascism was
all about, but Congress made them recall it. Hasn’t been seen since.)
“There ain’t but two sides, the working people’s side and
the big bosses’ side,” Woody wrote. “The union side and the Hitler side. The
first thing that Hitler cracked down on when he took the Nazi Chamber was the
Trade Unions. And it will be the Trade Unions that beat Hitler. The best job you
can do for your country, next to being a good soldier for the working
people.
“You don’t have to go to Europe to find plenty to do to beat Hitler, stick up for what’s right, freedom of speech, press, radio, meetings, collective bargaining, the right to get together for decent pay, hours, rent, prices … The biggest thing that’s happening right now in the United States is us.”
That was the stuff Woody’s songs were made of. He didn’t mind
others singing about love and such, but as far as he was concerned, “A song that
don’t say somethin ain’t worth nothin”. Of course, what his were worth, and what
they fetched, were two very different things. I remember getting many a
mimeographed, self-illustrated copy in the mail, scrawled over in Woody’s hand,
“Here is my latest song. Hope you like it. If so, please send 25c.”
It was much the same when it came to collecting even the $25
honorarium Woody generally got for singing on stage.
“But it’s for a Good Cause!” protested one sponsor who wanted him
to sing for free.
“I don’t sing for bad causes,” was Woody’s
rejoinder.
Woody was
never the armchair anti-fascist, mind you. When he received a wartime telegram
saying “Got a dish-washing job on a Liberty Ship,” he jotted in his Notebook:
Woman a-cryin
and me a-flyin
out the door
and down the line!
According to
his sidekick Cisco Houston, when one of those ships carrying material to Britain
and the Soviets was torpedoed (despite Woody’s prayers against “tin-fish”) he
grabbed his guitar and kept playing, in the heroic tradition of dance bands when
fire breaks out in the ballroom.
And when a
sister ship went down with all hands on board, Woody sang (as if in anticipation
of all the names engraved on the Vietnam Memorial wall in Washington):
Tell me, what were their names, boys,
what wurrr their names?
Did you have a friend
On that good Reuben James?
Woody
was rightfully proud of his membership in the National Maritime Union and kept
paing his dues long after he came ashore.
Like all true folk philosophers he could say a lot in a few
words, for example, “If we would just take the profit out of war, there wouldn’t
be any”.
In a 4 March 1942 entry in his Notebook for a letter to his
unborn son, Woody had this to say:
“Maybe I should talk to you about fascism. It is a big word and
it hides in some pretty little places. It is nothing in the world but greed for
profit and greed for the power to hurt and make slaves out of the people… But
fascism can no more control the world than a bunch of pool hall gamblers and
thugs can control America. Because all of the laws of man working in nature and
history and evolution say for all human beings to come always closer and closer
together…
“How come me launching into a talk about fascism to you - only 4
months on the way - not even here yet? Because in the whole big world… fascism
and freedom are the only two sides battling… every other shades into the fight
somewhere, I’m not worried about where you’ll be standing - but - how could I
ever get this book wrote full unless some of it was cussing out facism?
Like Tom Joad said to his dying mother in Steinbeck’s Grapes of
Wrath, “wherever working people are fighting for their rights, I’ll be there”.
That was Woody, all the way…
We were all very confident back then - as Pete Seeger has never
tired of singing - that there was “a better way on the way”. Woody often put it
in terms of a great day coming in which we (the human race) would all be members
of “One Big Union”.
One of the most everlasting of Woody’s countless contributions is his song, This Land Is Your Land, which has virtually replaced America (that rewrite of God Save the King) as the US national anthem. Its refrain:
One of the most everlasting of Woody’s countless contributions is his song, This Land Is Your Land, which has virtually replaced America (that rewrite of God Save the King) as the US national anthem. Its refrain:
This Land is your land,
This land is my land,
This land belongs to you and me…
This song has taken root in the heart of Americans of all ages -
all the title deeds to the contrary not withstanding. That Woody was not unaware
of this complication was evidenced by his gentle yet firm revolutionary
admonition for us to “take it easy, but take it!”
That Woody’s prenatal exhortations against fascism did not fall
on deaf ears is attested by Arlo Guthrie’s singing career. That word fascism may
still be understood on the eastern side of the Atlantic, where it wreaked the
most havoc, but it is still almost unheard of in the USA today. (Recently when a
student-made transcript of an interview with me came back from the oral history
archive at the University of Florida, it read, “Following the faddist invasion
of Spain…”)
During the 1950s, when McCarthyite witch-hunting was at its peak,
Alan Lomax was in London and I was in Budapest, and we both begged Woody to pack
up his guitar and songbag and come to Europe. He never made it in the flesh, but
as a legendary folk hero Woody Guthrie lives on in people’s struggles around the
world.
Just for fun, before concluding let me speak to two
apolitical components of the Legend of Woody Guthrie: that he slept with his
boots on, and ate standing up. The former was often true, and I have concluded
that the habit was acquired during his hoboing years, when one needed to be
ready to run when aroused by a railroad cop. And he did on occasion rise from a
dining table and take his plate to a shelf or mantlepiece. His own explanation:
there were no tables in a hobo jungle, nor around the chuck wagons of the Dust
Bowl refugees.
But the Legacy of Woody Guthrie, which will always stand mankind
in good stead, is the necessity for solidarity in throwing off the yoke of
oppressors, and building a better world of peace and justice.
One of my fondest memories of Woody is May Day 1947, when we
marched together in the writers’ contingent of the parade of progressives in New
York City. When we reached Union Square, Woody climbed up on a ledge protruding
from a bank, the better to hear the speakers. A cop spotting him from the other
side of the square came charging with his billystick and bellowing, “Get offa
that bank!”
Woody climbed down with the utmost dignity, saying, “Very well
officer, but a little courtesy please. Don’t forget I help pay your salary.”
Afterwards when the two of us were driving to upstate New York
for some meeting, when Woody’s time came at the mike he plucked at his scalp (as
he often did, as if for lice) and told the audience:
“On the way up here listening to the car radio we
heard the announcer talking about what a fine May Day parade the Mayor and all
the Big Shots and American Legion had down Fifth Avenue, and how all of us
Lefties ‘got lost in the shuffle over on Eighth Avenue’ … The way I see it,
that’s what we’ve gotta do - keep shufflin’ …” (source: Searchlight)
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