After completing his master’s degree in Folklore at the University of North Carolina, Tim Duffy set out to Winston-Salem to find a musician by the name of Guitar Gabriel. After following some local leads, he finally heard the elusive blues guitarist and was moved to “introduce Gabe and his music to any possible audience.”
Realizing there were many other traditional artists like Guitar Gabriel whose work was going unheard and whose livelihood was compromised as a result, Tim and his wife Denise Duffy founded Music Maker Relief Foundation in 1994 with the mission statement of preserving “the musical traditions of the South by directly supporting the musicians who make it, ensuring their voices will not be silenced by poverty and time.”
With the help of Music Maker Relief Foundation, Guitar Gabriel would go on to perform at the Lincoln Center, Carnegie Hall, and at music festivals worldwide. He passed away in 1996 and is buried in Winston-Salem with his guitar.
Guitarist John Dee Holeman was born in Hillsborough, N.C. in 1929 and grew up to become one of the most respected bluesmen of the South. Inspired by Piedmont blues legend Blind Boy Fuller, Holeman took to the instrument in his early teens and built himself a career that’s sent him all over the world, performing with the likes of B.B. King, Chuck Berry, and Joe and Odell Thompson. Learn more about the esteemed guitarist and entertainer at the Music Maker Relief Foundation website and let his tune “Chapel Hill Boogie” from Kenny Wayne Shepherd’s Grammy nominated album 10 Days Out: Blues from the Backroad chase away your Thursday blues.
Music Maker Relief Foundation is celebrating its 25th anniversary, and Duke Performances is hosting a week of events commemorating the milestone. Learn more at https://dukeperformances.duke.edu/event-category/music-maker-25/
By: David Menconi
Durham isn’t the city the blues forgot so much as a city that forgot its own blues history. For far too many years, Durham’s blues legacy was less than an afterthought – and it’s a legacy as rich as any city beyond Memphis or Chicago.
In the 1930s and early ’40s, Durham was home to a veritable Mount Rushmore of acoustic performers playing Piedmont blues, a clattery style with similarities to ragtime and bluegrass. There was South Carolina native Gary Davis, generally known by the prefixes “Blind” or “Rev.,” a virtuoso guitarist who would influence countless younger players during the 1950s and ’60s folk and blues revivals; Sonny & Brownie, the duo of Georgia-born harmonica master Saunders “Sonny Terry” Terrell and guitarist Walter Brown “Brownie” McGhee, who made sweet music for decades on the folk-festival circuit; and the man at the center of it all, Fulton Allen, more widely known as Blind Boy Fuller.
There were plenty of other blues players in the area – Floyd Council (later the partial namesake of British psychedelic-rock band Pink Floyd) and Elizabeth “Freight Train” Cotten in Chapel Hill, Rocky Mount harmonica player “Peg Leg Sam” Jackson – but those four were the dominant figures. And what brought them all to Durham was the middle-class economy created by tobacco. Durham was one of America’s foremost tobacco towns; even its “Bull City” nickname came from W.T. Blackwell & Co.’s Bull Durham Tobacco.
Working in tobacco factories paid multiples more money than sharecropping, and Durham had a sizable black working class with a relatively stable economy. Tobacco even helped Durham weather the economic traumas of the Great Depression far better than wide swaths of the country, because demand stayed strong.
“Cigarettes are addictive and in hard times it’s still hard to give up the stuff you’re addicted to,” said blues musician/scholar Scott Ainslie, a Vermont native who spent 20 years in North Carolina. “They’re the last things to go, even after food. So, in Durham, there were still rent parties and moonshining.”
Even in the worst of times during the 1930s, enough working-class people had disposable income to go toward entertainment so that a music scene began to coalesce. But rather than concert halls or nightclubs, the main venues were cafes, barbershops, house parties, street corners and most of all tobacco warehouses. The scene was especially busy during fall harvest time when farmers would sell their tobacco at auction and go shopping with their pockets newly full of cash. Moonshiners and busking blues players converged wherever crowds would gather.
It’s no coincidence that three out of Durham’s Big Four blues players were blind (Fuller, Davis, and Terry) while the fourth (McGhee) grew up crippled with polio until he could have corrective surgery as an adult. Music represented a way out of poverty, especially for Fuller – who had a thriving recording career, thanks in part to the white merchant J.B. Long, who recorded and released more than 100 of his songs during the 1930s and early ’40s. Fuller’s most enduring recording was 1940’s “Step It Up and Go,” which is sort of like the “Johnny B. Goode” of Piedmont blues, the chestnut everybody knows.
"Here's a blind man who couldn't get work because there was precious little work for African American men in the Jim Crow South, let alone disabled ones," the University of North Carolina folklorist Glenn Hinson said of Blind Boy Fuller. "And he transcends his circumstances to find a national audience with his music. That's a story worth hearing, and it's so much the dream of today's hip-hop artists, too. They look out there and say, 'All these people who are stars now, where'd they start out? In the projects like us.' From social conditions that say, 'no future,' they made one."
Fuller’s death in 1941 marked the end point of Durham’s golden age of blues. Davis, Terry, and McGhee all left for points north within a few years, and most of the other players in the scene were dying off as “urban renewal” began to take a toll on Durham’s blues and African-American history. Much of the Hayti district was leveled in the 1960s to make way for the Durham Freeway.
Still, a few tangible reminders remain. The house Blind Boy Fuller lived in at the end of his life still stands at 904 E. Massey Avenue in Durham and there are historical markers near Fuller’s grave at Grove Hill Cemetery and at the corner of Fayetteville and Simmons streets, where he and Davis used to busk by a barbecue stand. And a piece of the old Liberty Warehouse wall still stands on Rigsbee Avenue, as a decorative façade for a luxury apartment complex “where Durham’s soulful history and cultural future converge.”
David Menconi, the 2019 Piedmont Laureate, was a music critic at the News & Observer in Raleigh for 28 years. This post is adapted from a chapter of a book he’s writing about the history of North Carolina music, to be published in 2020 by University of North Carolina Press. He’ll lead a discussion about Durham’s blues history at 2 p.m. Saturday, June 29, at South Regional Library, 4505 S. Alston Ave. in Durham. More details available at the event's website.
Etta Baker is one of North Carolina’s most famous Piedmont blues guitarists. Born in Caldwell County, she started learning guitar from her father when she was three. Her masterful, emotive pickin’ first appeared in 1956 on the album Instrumental Music from the Southern Appalachians, but it took 35 years before her next recording - and first solo record - One Dime Blues appeared. That album arose from many years of recording sessions produced by Wayne Martin, our host of “Director’s Cut.”
“I felt like she was one of the most extraordinary expressive musicians who I had ever met,” says Wayne Martin. “I remember hearing her play John Henry with a slide and I can remember my thought: I’m in the presence of a musical genius.”
Etta Baker’s sound and style influenced the likes of Bob Dylan and Taj Mahal. In this episode of Director's Cut, Wayne Martin shares "Broken Hearted Blues,” a rare recording that features Baker both playing guitar and singing. “Most of the time she would let the guitar do the talking for her,” says Wayne. “But just very occasionally she would sing.”
Director's Cut is a special music themed season of Arts Across NC, curated in celebration of Come Hear North Carolina, a campaign for the 2019 North Carolina Year of Music. In each episode NC Arts Council Director Wayne Martin will unearth a field recording from the archive he built during his 30+ year tenure with our agency. Each song represents a different region of North Carolina.
"These pieces that I've chosen are part of the fabric of who we are as a people," says Wayne. "They are pieces that tell the story of North Carolina.
Arts Across NC is a podcast by and about the North Carolina Arts Council.