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  • Writer's pictureGrandmother Elspeth

The Origins of Greensong

Updated: Mar 12, 2020


One spring evening in 1948 I sat in a college classroom and listened to a skinny, scruffy, singer play banjo and sing his original music. He appeared to be in his late twenties and was a better songwriter than a singer. His songs, though, were extremely powerful! The term “protest music” was just coming into vogue in those days and his certainly qualified. That was my introduction to Pete Seeger!


While meaningful, it didn’t seem to be life altering at the time. Over the years I forgot about that evening. Only in the last 25 years can I look back and realize that my life took a sharp turn that night.


 

As usual in those times, I married young and raised a family. Those twenty or so years I was totally focused on just that – pleasing my husband and raising a family. It was customary that a woman stayed home and tended to the household and the children. Until WW II most women didn’t go out to work unless their husbands could not provide for them. At any rate, I was pretty oblivious to the world outside of my home. Even during the “McCarthy” years I barely noticed the politics of the times. I do remember that Paul Robeson and Pete Seeger were only two of the artists whose careers were destroyed.


Our children grew up and, after 23 years, I ended the marriage. I had never held “a job,” never worked outside my home. Even though my husband had climbed the corporate ladder to an executive position with salary to match, I took nothing from the marriage except my personal belongings. My feeling was that money, the getting and spending of it, was a large part of our incompatibility.


So, at age 41, I had to learn to support myself. And, as it happened, that need was to bring me back in contact with Pete. Because I was most expert with my sewing machine and with texture and color in fabrics, I set about finding ways to utilize these skills. For the next ten years we (my newly acquired significant other) and I made things and sold them at Arts and Craft shows. Joe made wooden toys and I made soft sculpture (Fabric creations that go beyond utility into art.


 

During the 70s, rebuilding his shattered career, Pete turned to what was beginning to be called “Folk” music; music that came from the heart, much of it socio/political commentary. He began a number of events whose first goal was to clean up the Hudson River. These weekends were filled with music, where, among other things, fees and donations were gathered to help this project and others. Not only his voice -and banjo – but many other artists came together to raise money and hearts to shift societal and political perspectives. These heartful goals were a natural out-growth of his years working and traveling with Woody Guthrie. They spent many years, singing the songs that empowered the unions, brought people together to work toward a more caring world and waking people up to the vast unevenness of our world.


Along with the music, there were always Handcrafters. We paid a fee, as did the attendees of the musical concerts. In those days everybody was creating: music, handcrafted goods, ideas. The message of the 70s was less about group sex and recreational drugs than it was about building a different kind of world, one where people cared for each other and for the Earth. One where it would be honorable to work with your hands.


After moving from New Jersey to the mountains of West Virginia, Joe and I heard about the Craft shows connected to this great music and quickly found out how to take part. We gravitated both to the music and to Pete’s leadership. His performance was only part singing. Often he taught the audience the songs so they could participate. That’s when I learned about the “sing along” and how powerfully a group can affect the world around them. When the melody, words and rhythm catch the spirit, the primitive brain encodes and remembers.

Gradually, we came to be a closer part of the events. We traveled distances to take part. Yes, they were still important to our livelihood. The additional benefit was the growing awareness of the state of the world and the increasing distance between the (very) rich and the (many) poor. Joe and I had ten years together before his death in early 1983. His devotion and caring were a healing of my soul.


 

Shortly after Joe’s death I met the artist, James Odbert, and we were married in 1985. By 1986, he had left his commercial job and set out as a freelance artist. He created the name “Nybor” for his new work. (He wanted to see if “Nybor “would sell as well as “James Odbert.). From the beginning it was successful and “Nybor” became known to art lovers across the country.


The 90s crept upon us and the human created culture continued to unravel. All through this time I followed Pete’s work, attending his concerts as often as possible and grabbing a few moments afterwards if I could. I guess I was a groupie!


The big change in my tenuous relationship with Pete came about as I began to make my first Spoken Word CD, “Out of the Forest”, and continued to develop with the publication of “Gylantra’s Journey” (a joint effort of mine and Nybor’s). Both the editor of the book and the studio where I recorded the CD were friends with Pete and his wife, Toshi. They each lived to nearby towns.


When I broached the idea of talking to Pete while he was home in Beacon, they said that Toshi would not let anybody talk to him. She was protecting his privacy. However, one of them gave me the phone number… Pete answered the phone, remembered me, and invited me to come up to visit! If I had not already known about MAGIC, this would have been surprising. But, to me, it was simply another manifestation of the power of thought. There is no coincidence.


From that point for the next few years, I made the trip a number of times. Pete was generous with his time. We talked about how to affect changes in the culture around us, how music could shift perspectives, the role of human stewardship of the Earth, what constitutes “living sustainably” and other related subjects. He reminisced about his many years on the road playing anywhere he could get an audience and about some of the troubling things that happened with the “establishment”, both social and governmental.


 

I began evolving the idea of creating an event that would follow his “music to change your mind” concept. As we thrashed this around, Pete encouraged and suggested, pointed out flaws and strong points. My idea took off from his to incorporating workshops/presentations etc. that could teach people some of the ways individuals and small groups could prepare for the incoming crises. Pete favored my ideas, even stating that he wished that he had thought of it earlier while he was still active – he was by now in his early 90s and seldom traveled. At any rate, his support helped me to take a chance and just jump into it. I had a little money, so could make a beginning with a small event, which we did in June of 2011 near Atlanta, GA.

Earlier that year I visited him one last time and took a copy of our flyer for him to see. He was really showing his years and didn’t have nearly the energy he had previously. It was obvious that he could no longer be bothered with outside affairs.

However, he left me with several important pieces of advice: have all kinds of music (not just the kind he and I liked) and to keep the people singing! He was emphatic about audience participation. Scientific studies back that up – people are moved to change more by being part of something than just listening to someone sing or talk.


When he passed a few years later, it was a personal loss as well as a sadness that this great lover of people (in spite of our frailties) was gone from us. I will always be indebted to Pete Seeger for giving me my voice.

About the Author:

Grandmother Elspeth Odbert is the Visionary & Founder of GreenSong Incorporated and in her 90 years has become a living legend.

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