My Grandmother, Helen Chapman, told me when I was a boy that her grandfather was part of a consortium that owned a riverboat on the Mississippi called, "The Grand Republic". She told me it was the finest riverboat that ever plied the River, "Too thick to navigate, too thin to plow". When I grew up I looked up the Grand Republic and sure enough, there was just such a riverboat, and, it was said to be the largest riverboat ever built. I actually saw a picture of it in a book on the subject.
I've always been drawn to rivers. There's something about that line in the John Hartford song, "The Mystery Below" that taps into my love of rivers. ( "Comin' down out of the mystery above, comin' down into the mystery below" ) that stirs my soul and makes me want to pick up a canoe and float a river. I think my blood is actually river water... I love it so.
Charleston Song is my own little homage to those bygone days of the paddle wheelers and those captains who navigated those timeless Mississippi snags on full moon nights. Bob Lawder, Blake Travis, Frank Heyer, ( God rest their beautiful souls ) and Bob Breidenbach performed this song countless times with me and here is a recording featuring that band as only they could perform it...
Charleston Town
Lyrics
My eyes are weak, but I still see those days of old.
It's like old King Cotton is stacked up on every shore.
Now the Town of Charleston makes her sweepin' turn.
Listen up, You'll hear her engines start to churn.
I want to walk through the gates of that old Charleston Town
Before it all comes tumblin' down.
Give me my hat and my walkin' cane
Carry me down, down to that promenade
I want to walk through the gates of that old Charleston Town
Before it all comes tumblin' down.
My ears are weak, but I still hear those songs of old.
Songs of hope and deliverance, songs that heal your soul.
Now everybody's singin' soft as a summer breeze.
It's like there's angels in the air,
It's like we oughta
Get up off of our knees.
Give me my hat and my walkin' cane
Carry me down, down to that promenade
I want to walk through the gates of that old Charleston Town
Before it all comes tumblin' down.
My hands are weak and they're tired
And there's line to show the work I've done
But these lines been cut by somebody else
workin' from sun to sun.
We're sittin' on this levy
Them good ol' days is gone
It's down to me and you...like it should be.
We ought to pick ourselves up,
We ought to dust ourselves off
And walk, and walk, and walk right on through...
Give me my hat and my walkin' cane
Carry me down, down to that promenade
I want to walk through the gates of that old Charleston Town
Before it all comes tumblin' down.
We ought to walk through the gates of that old Charleston Town
Before it all comes tumblin' down.