 |
Simple Song of Freedom
In 1967 the bodies of ten prisoners, who had been shot dead, were discovered secretly buried on a farm in Arkansas, in a scene that could have come straight out of the Paul Newman film, ‘Cool Hand Luke’. Back then, prison farms were expected to be self-supporting. Thus, trusties took the place of salaried guards, the whipping of prisoners with four-foot long straps was sanctioned by law and torturing them by electricity or old-fashioned pliers was sanctioned by custom.
In 1968 an anti-government song, ‘Long Line Rider’, in memory of the slain prisoners was written, some of which went:
Someone screams investigate
’scuse me sir it’s a little late..
This kinda thing can’t happen here
’specially not in an election year…
And the ground coughs up some roots
Wearin’ denim shirts and boots…
The man who wrote that song was boohed off the stage when he tried to perform it. He was also prevented from singing it on the Jackie Gleason television show in the USA and walked off the set. That man was fifties’ teenage idol Bobby Darin.
We were listening to BBC Radio 2 a few Sundays ago and by accident came across a documentary about his life. Darin was born Walden Robert Cassotto into poverty in a Harlem ghetto in 1936, a sickly, fatherless child, who suffered from several bouts of rheumatic fever which damaged his heart. He wasn’t expected to make his sixteenth birthday.
I had liked his hit, ‘Splish Splash’, ‘Dream Lover’ and ‘Beyond The Sea’. But he was among a haze of singers from my childhood who just preceded my generation’s Beatles and Stones. I had also liked his version of the Kurt Weill/Bertolt Brecht song ‘Mack The Knife’ which sold two million copies and made his name.
(Incidentally, the song comes from ‘The Thrupenny Opera’ (1928) and tells the story of Mack, a prison escapee. Polly, daughter of Peacham, king of the London beggars, is in love with and marries her father’s younger rival, Mack, who protects beggars through his friendship with the chief of police. Disapproving of his daughter’s match, Peacham persuades the chief to arrest Mack. Mack escapes from prison, is recaptured and is about to be hanged when the King intervenes, pardons him and makes him a Lord - in a parody of operatic convention. I know. I know it sound ridiculous, but I remember dancing to ‘Someone’s left the cake out in the rain…’)
Darin was a gifted composer, wrote over one hundred songs, starred in thirteen movies. But from the start he was resented as a pompous brat. ‘Little Singer with a Big Ego’ was the headline on one magazine. He refused to do encores or sign autographs, was critical of the prying press, and boasted that, ‘I hope to pass Frank [Sinatra] in everything he’s done.’ This provoked Sinatra and Dean Martin to pin his picture to the wall and use it as a dart board.
In the early 1960s he said: ‘Every time I hear some little singer being congratulated for being “such a good example to your teenage followers”, I feel like throwing up.”’ Yet, he was to change as a result of the civil rights movement, the race riots, the campus revolts, the Vietnam War and after meeting Robert Kennedy. He became an activist and a natural ally of the oppressed. During this time his sister approached him and said that if he was going to be involved in politics there was something he should know. ‘I’m not your sister, I’m your mother.’ He was shattered and said, ‘My whole life has been a lie.’ She refused to tell him who his father was (his alleged father died in Sing Sing prison before he was born).
Nevertheless, he continued to canvass for radical change. The assassination of Robert Kennedy in 1968 during his presidential bid brought about another profound effect in his life. At his graveside he experienced an intense mystical revelation. ‘I emerged a better person, at peace with myself and strived to help the world change towards goodness.’ He sold all his possessions, moved into a trailer for a year and spent his time reading. It was during this period that he wrote his anti-war song, ‘Simple Song of Freedom’, though it was Tim Hardin’s version which made the charts in 1969, just as our own conflict was beginning. He was a loyal friend, a supporter of many charities and an ambassador for the American Heart Association.
In 1972 he went to the dentist to have his teeth cleaned and because he had a heart condition was supposed to take a course of antibiotics as a preventative against blood poisoning. He didn’t complete the course and contracted septicema which contributed to the cause of death during a heart operation in December 1973. There was no funeral service as he had donated his body for medical research. He was only thirty seven years of age.
Come and sing a simple song of freedom
Sing it like you’ve never sang before.
Let it fill the air
Tell the people everywhere
We, the people here, don’t want a war…
Seven hundred million are you listening?
Most of what you read is made of lies
But speaking one to one, ain’t it everybody’s sun
To wake to in the morning when we rise?...
No doubt some folks enjoy doing battle
Like presidents, prime ministers and kings.
So let’s all build them shelves where they can fight among themselves,
and leave the people be who love to sing…
Let it fill the air, tell the people everywhere
We, the people, here don’t want a war…
[ back ]
© 2007 Irish Author and Journalist - Danny Morrison