A Melody’s Revival: Tales of Ozarkian Tradition
by Emily Garoutte
The demands of modern times in Missouri seep into each of our lives. An array of chicken farmers, electricians, retired folk, and kids lay aside their work once a week to play old time and bluegrass music and fend off the demands, for posterity’s delight. The musicians make the scenic jaunt out to the Mountain Grove Schoolhouse in Taney County every Thursday, competing with the songs of the cicadas and playing the music of generations gone by. We give a voice to the generations of old. The music is imperfect and raw, just as “home grown” music should be. We push on to tell stories through these songs. When the front door is unlocked and the musicians fill the room, time returns to days of old. Once a week, the one-room schoolhouse comes to life, beckoning the community in.
I branched out from classical music and started playing the fiddle at the age of 12, never picturing what a cherished thing I would be taking part in. My heart quickly became akin with this hidden gem I had unearthed. Without the next generation to carry on these native Ozark tunes, thousands of melodies and their stories will perish. Stories of sorrow, faith, poverty, love, and life are bellowed out in each chord. Current caretaker of the schoolhouse, Jeff Michel, who finds it crucial to keep the music alive, said, “For one thing, my grandpa and his buddies started the jam. But, since the younger people started coming, it has inspired us who had been playing here for a long time to pass along what we know.” Although old time and bluegrass music has evolved in some aspects over the years, the principle of the gathering remains unchanged. Unfortunately, very few residents of the Ozarks are aware of the musical traditions that brought and are still bringing merriness to folks.
The schoolhouse lies tucked in the hills of the Missouri Ozarks, less than 20 minutes east of Branson on T Highway. Used as a school for roughly a century, the original schoolhouse stood nearly a mile from its current location, now the Mountain Grove Cemetery. The structure was constructed in the late 1800s and served until the 1930s when it was destroyed by a fire. Rebuilt on the new site in 1928, grades one through eight were led by one school teacher in the small area. In 1952, the Mountain Grove Schoolhouse was consolidated with Branson schools, concluding its use as a school. In the years between 1952 and 1979 it was abandoned and fell into disarray. That could have been the end of the story, until Frank Michel and his neighbors fully restored the schoolhouse to its original charm in 1979. Frank, grandfather of the current caretaker, Jeff Michel, and several of his friends including Everette Gloyd and Johnnie Boyd, began the music jam in 1980. Because of their efforts in restoration, musicians have been gathering for fellowship and music every nearly Thursday night since. Many of the original musicians even became well known throughout the area. The beloved Ray Curbow attended faithfully for many years and became known as “the barefoot fiddler” at the schoolhouse.
“Ray was probably one of the best old time fiddlers around the area. He had his own style, almost always playing two notes at once. He fiddled almost seven days a week at some jam, somewhere. He fiddled for about 69 years of his life.” recalled Jeff Michel. Jeff followed Ray to music events learning to capture his style for many years. Ray’s picture now hangs on the chalkboard in remembrance of his fiddle playing and faithful friendship.
Now, in 2021, the scene hasn’t modernized much, but lately, the kids are getting involved. Older mentors still make up a large sum of the circle, but new, youthful faces are appearing as well. I am one of the younger players of the schoolhouse. It is an honor to learn the tunes that are native to the Ozarks from these mentors. Kids are joining the circle to watch the older musician’s hands attentively as they switch chords. The older musicians never pass up an opportunity to give up their seat and give an approving nod after a song.
On a typical Thursday night, you could expect a plethora of things. At 7:00, banjo, mandolin, bass, guitar, and fiddle strings are plucked eagerly as they’re tuned and prepped. Welcomes and greetings fill the air. Elderly ladies proudly come in and present their contribution for the night, scrumptious desserts. Spectators fill the “audience rows” and join the family. Musicians take their seats around the circle and either the oldest or youngest in the circle decides upon the song to kick off with. The kids are taught to play in a jam just like the older generations. They stick their foot out to show when they’re ending a song, they announce the song’s title and its key before they take off playing, and they wait for their turn to come to play loudly. If anyone ever lacks inspiration for their song choice, the blackboard is filled with traditional song names from corner to corner. The music always comes to a boil and the thrill of the melody escapes as we stomp to the beat. At 8:30, someone finally declares, “Break time!” and everyone rushes up to grab dessert before it vanishes. Chatter and laughter echo in the little room. Recipes are shared among the older ladies and the week’s news is shared among the kids. The clamor is soon brought to an end when we hear the music begin again in the circle. A herd of muddy-footed children file back inside, nearly always out of breath from laughing. Once again, our fluttering fingers fight to outdo the cicadas until the moon is high.
That scene is the identity of the Ozarks. This is the Ozarks that I am proud to live in. The fellowship, the authenticity, and sharing of tradition. This mountain music unifies people in the same way it did at dances, jam sessions, festivals, singings, and Sunday gatherings long ago. This schoolhouse had various uses over the years. However, its purpose remains: to pass on, to nurture, and to cultivate tradition. The Lord has gifted me with the honor of spending time with the faces that fill the Mountain Grove Schoolhouse. I know to never take it for granted. Many claim that this old time and bluegrass music is dying, and there is risk. However, I intend to uphold this tradition. I’ve witnessed the spark of satisfaction when a young fiddle player finishes a tune. I’ve seen the room reverberate with clapping and hollering when a song becomes a lively affair. I’ve felt passion rise in my heart over the years to keep this music alive and vital. My soul hums an old tune from the hills and I will heed to its call to preserve the melody. Under my ability it will not die with my generation.
Great article and account. When I first started playing banjo, I attended many a jam session down in Harrison, Arkansas. That was back in the the early 70’s. Still love a good jam to this day! Music makes for a wonderful legacy and great tradition to pass on to your family and community!
Such a great article!! Emily. you are so talented! It is an honor to know you.
This was a very well written article. Thank you much for it and the history it holds. I’m blessed to have and had relatives who were and are into music. I love the Ozarks and I remember when my Aunt Lucile introduced my wife and I to Elmo Ingentron. He was a special man. She and Elmo grew up together and had much in common. In her earlier years she taught school and later became Post Master at S of O. We took her to several Singins at Uncle Everett’s house in Ridgedale. That’s where we met Ray Curbow and many others. I am blessed and your article added to that condition. Thank You. Stan