All posts by Sandra Dolby

The Last Time

Songs and Scenes, ,

This is not exactly a mirror image of the song made famous by Julio Iglesias and Willie Nelson—“To All the Girls I’ve Loved Before.”  However, it is a song in which I reminisce about past loves.  Amidst all the sheltering in place, social distancing, avoiding crowds, etc., I have treated myself to a few “by myself” Happy Hours.  These events have not been as depressing as they may sound.  Actually they gave me an excuse to think back about people I have shared a drink and a romantic relationship with over the years—in particular some of the wonderful men I have loved and who have loved me in return.  All have moved on.  Sadly, some have died.  Some years ago I wrote a song about this melancholy experience of letting a relationship melt away from the intensity of a powerful, burning love to that instead of a treasured, remembered love.  Mementos keep them in my life, and now, in my more mature years, I do indeed hold their love in my heart like gold.

The Last Time, by Sandy Dolby

Father’s Day

Family Connections, , , ,

My father, Charles E. Dolby, was born and grew up in Huntington County, Lancaster Township, in northern Indiana.  His parents were Frank and Gertrude (Beghtel) Dolby.  For most of his adult life he lived on Vine Street.  He was trained as a barber and practiced barbering for a while but then joined the City Fire Department as well as working off days at Home Lumber Company.  He was an excellent carpenter and expanded our house to accommodate the family of seven and also built a lake cottage up in Noble County, Indiana.  He loved fishing and kept bee moths in the refrigerator (Ick).  He encouraged my singing and guitar playing as a teenager, and I think he was really proud to be driving me down to Bloomington to start my college education.  He died in 1999, just before the start of the new millennium.  I often wonder what he would make of things to day.  He was a natural engineer and could fix almost anything.  I miss him.  The song I sing in this video is a traditional ballad, Child 113, and it tells of the fate of a mythical father.

My father, Charles Dolby

Motherless Child

Always a Folklorist, ,

Juneteenth—a day of celebration.  Enslaved people in Texas finally (1865) got the news that they were emancipated.  African-Americans have had precious few occasions to celebrate, and this event and the eventual Emancipation Proclamation, the 15th and 19th amendments to the Constitution, the Voting Rights Act of 1965, the Fair Housing Act of 1968, and a few other such legal advances have unfortunately left the dominant worldview that includes racism mostly intact.  My hope is that the recent protests will inspire a re-education and emotional enlightenment of our national soul and bring us all the empathy, intelligence, and bigheartedness I think we all want to identify as what is truly American.

I have always been attracted to the African-American spiritual Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child.  If I were back teaching high school English as I did for a while many years ago, I would say here we have a perfect example of a series of similes.  First the singer speaks of feeling like a motherless child, then she laments that it feels like the night will never end, then, gloriously, she feels briefly like an eagle in the air, but in the end she goes back to feeling like a motherless child—a woeful, heartbreaking comparison.  I accept gratefully that I have never had to endure the discrimination that blacks in America have experienced, continue to experience.  But this song helps me emotionally place myself for a short while in their shoes. I find it a powerful song, and I am grateful for all the many singers who have shared it with us over the years.  I’ll share my recording of it with you here.  Thank you for listening.   

Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child