My Musical Mama: Ida Hensley
By Myra Vanderpool Gormley (c)2018
My mother and her mother — my maternal grandmother who was the woman I called “Mama” — sang constantly. It was how they passed the day. While I was growing up, before television became a household item owned by everyone, many of my friends and relatives had radios. My folks did too, but my mother never listened. Instead she sang all day, one song after another, often making up her own lyrics.
She apparently did so because her mother (Ida Hensley) did. So, I thought it must be genetic and that a musical gene ran in the Hensley branch of family. I spent a large portion of my early childhood with my grandparents on their farm and listened to Mama sing while she did her chores around the house or in the garden. Interspersed with the old songs, she’d tell me about when she was girl growing up in Alabama, tales about her family, and about making the journey via wagon to Indian Territory when she was 15.
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| Ida Hensley Fricks and Texas longhorn. |
Her older brother was a “traveling singing teacher,” He also played the fiddle for local dances. He obviously was her favorite sibling, as her voice would tremble when she talked about his early demise — he died from snakebite.
Another of her brothers was a preacher and when he came to visit they’d play and sing the old Gospel tunes like “Life’s Like a Mountain Railroad” and “In the Sweet Bye and Bye.” When several of her brothers and sisters and their families came to visit they brought their fiddles and mouth organs (harmonicas), and music and songs would fill the air as they sat on the front porch, often spilling out into the yard under the locust and walnut trees. How they could sing and play — bluegrass, Gospel, country, hillbilly — and wonderful old-time songs like “She’ll be coming 'round the mountain.” That was a childhood favorite of mine — especially the verse about “killing the old red rooster and having chicken and dumpling.”
Mama had numerous talents, including storytelling and steer riding (see picture above). However, music was her special gift. She had a beautiful alto voice and what was called “perfect (or absolute) pitch” and, oh, how she and her siblings could harmonize.
She amazed me with her ability to play almost
any musical instrument — all by “ear.” When I received my first piano, she had me show her where “middle C” was and then she began playing like she had taken music lessons for years. I was impressed. It didn’t take me long to discover that I didn’t have granny’s musical gene, but I enjoyed learning to play the piano so I took lessons for a few years.
In an article by Yi Ting Tan on the “Genetic Basis of Musical Ability” she writes, “researchers generally agree that both genetic and environmental factors contribute to the broader realization of music ability, with the degree of music aptitude varying, not only from individual to individual, but across various components of music ability within the same individual . . . Recent advances in genetic research offer fertile ground for exploring the genetic basis of music ability.”
I find all this genetic and DNA research interesting. I inherited my eye color from Mama, but I didn’t get her musical talent.
However, I have the memories.
My mother sang around the house and while driving, too, but more of Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, and Hank Williams. An uncle, one who didn't talk much to women, told her once that it was the sweetest thing in the world to come home from work and hear his wife singing as he crossed the porch.
ReplyDeleteI can relate to that. Mother sang while driving, too. I miss her and the music she created.
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