Song of Johnny Appleseed
by Job Conger
written 2:00 pm, Wednesday, July 20, 2011
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He was born in Massachusetts in one seven seven four.
His father fought through the Revolutionary War.
Independence took root in the soldier’s first son
In the days of President Washington.
At age 18, he left home and began to wander west
With his younger brother Nate, and they were put to the test:
Through harsh Pennsylvania winters without horses and estate
They persevered to the frontier and a better fate.
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(chorus)
He ran with the rabbit and slept with the stream
As he lived his bold American dream.
And from his true devotion to a loving creed
Came the harvest of legendary Johnny Appleseed.
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John Chapman was a tree man, proud and true,
And the apple was essential in the territory new.
It was cider and vinegar and sustenance for all
As the pioneers with dreams of their own heard the call.
It was a call to build a future, new villages and
Better lives for their children in the blossoming land.
Young John planted seeds that would grow to apple trees
With blossoms that would sweeten every springtime breeze.
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(chorus)
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Riding rivers in canoes through Ohio’s misty out-backs
Walking barefoot in the trails, following ancient Indian tracks,
He planted hundreds of apple tree orchards without fence
For the settlers who would follow three to ten years hence.
He returned to tend the little trees to make them strong,
Through the seasons of the decades that would come along,
And he never killed an animal to eat or in defense
Because a life of roots and berries simply made more sense.
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(chorus)
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He was a friend to the Indian, a friend to the bear,
A friend to the stranger, and he would share
With everyone he met, though he lived alone.
In his smiling, rugged manner there was not a selfish bone.
From a late winter blizzard, John Chapman caught a chill
In an Indiana glade where he was planting still,
At age 69 near old Fort Wayne,
And he died as he slept, without regret or pain.
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(chorus)
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His clothes were old and ragged, but his heart was pure
As the songs of Heaven’s angels and his dedication sure.
Though he left this world in 1845
The spirit of the “Appleseed” is very much alive.
May every modern-day dreamer, all builders bold,
Be inspired by the story that continues to be told,
For he loved without condition, and he lived without complaint.
He was a man and a myth, a legend.
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(chorus)
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I’ve been looking forward to sharing the story of John Chapman at Vachel’s house for about a month, and in typical form, decided to write a song about him the Wednesday before the big day. That Wednesday was also Poetry at Robbie’s (restaurant) in Springfield, sponsored by Springfield Poets and Writers, and I HAD to have a new poem. So, I KNEW when I sat down at my desk at work at 9 am Wednesday morning I was going to write something about Chapman to practice (read aloud to an audience of hummin’ beans is the more charitable way of saying the same thing) at Robbie’s by 5 pm. By the time 2:00 pm chimed, I had written the song lyric. By 5:00 when I departed work, I’d made probably 50 changes (little tweaks, mostly) and as I waited my turn to share from the microphone at Robbie’s, enjoying a tasty Hawaiian Salad, at my table I made it 51 changes.While typing the poem on the computer I use for this blog, I made it 58 changes. It resembles the original draft as a 1959 Buick Electra resembles a 1961 Chevrolet Bel-Air, but that’s okay because this version goes where I want it to go.
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Two lines in the song were written by Vachel Lindsay and borrowed (appropriated, stolen, rapaciously purloined) from his poem “In Praise of Johnny Appleseed.” They are “In the days of President Washington.” . . . .and “He ran with the rabbit and he slept with the stream.” Thank you Vachel.
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It was evident 2:00 pm last Wednesday, that I’ve crammed manymany words and facts into the production. Even so, I believe it succeeds nominally, though not optimally. As I gave a copy of the early version to UIS professor Ethan Lewis after the event, I laconically called the poem “a term paper that rhymes.” He replied “I’ve never read a term paper that rhymes. This will be a first.” and thanked me for the copy.
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While accompanying myself on guitar, I spoke the verses and sang the chorus at Vachel’s House today, and I will probably do the same at my October 22 presentation at Poetry in the Parlor at his house.
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I wrote the poem with children in mind but hoping parents would explain some of the phrases, and in my plan for a focused dialogue with the audience (which did not happen) I intended to lay some foundation for the song. There are two minor historical half-truths which I committed to keep it simple. I would have written a different poem for adult readers, and perhaps some day, I will. I hope you like “Song of Johnny Appleseed” just the same.
Live long . . . . . . . and proper.
Very nice poem and very attractive blog posting. The photos were great. Thanks for sharing.
Agreeing with Dick on everything! Also, your new duds look good.
Thanks Dick and OFO! I sent the “Song'” to Joe Besecker, Executive Director of Johnny Appleseed Education Center and Museum, Urbana, Ohio where I read Part I of Vachel Lindsay’s poem “In Praise of Johnny Appleseed” in March, this year. (Part I is “Over the Appalacian Barricade”) He responded that he considers my production “great” but added that Chapman died at age 71. I remembered “age 69” from an early article about him, and I didn’t do the new math when the matter was set straight by a newer publication. I have since revised my song. Re my new duds, I did not intend to sit in a hot tent outside that Saturday in my amazing technicolor sportcoat. But I did want to be dressed for the occasion, despite the rish of innocents thinking me a portrayer of “Johnny Orangeseed” whose role in the American saga has been sadly under-appreciated, perhaps because he did not exist. I prefer (or if your sobriquet is #43, I perfer) to think of myself dressed as above as “Clifton Dreamsicle.” (Clifton is my middle name, and the rhythm works better with Clifton. 🙂