Sing-a-long

Janet Leslie

My mom loved a sing-a-long. She used to tell me that when she was dating my dad in high school, nights spent out with “the gang” often ended with the group singing their favorite songs. They both grew up in small towns up north and without a lot of money, so I suppose there wasn’t much entertainment available to them. Movies, football games, school dances, and sing-a-longs were probably about all they had. Though lives and circumstances changed, whenever we went back up north to visit with family or with members of my folks’ “gang,” the night often ended with the group singing standards like “You Are My Sunshine” and “Goodnight Irene."

It didn’t occur to me that this tradition was anything but fun until the night before my wedding. After the rehearsal dinner, my visiting family all returned to the hotel for a pre-nuptial party of cocktails and singing. My future ex-husband and his friends reacted with horror at this spectacle of amateur crooning, and promptly suggested adjourning to the hotel bar, far from the scene of the sing-a-long. I guess having grown up in the city, they weren’t accustomed to this sort of homegrown fun. Thus, though my children and I sing along with the radio in the car, there hasn’t been a lot of sing-a-longs in my adult life.

Imagine my surprise when last Saturday, at a folk concert at Holly Mill & Company, two songs into the first set, the artist invited the crowd to sing along to “Home on the Range.” Even more surprising was the fact that everyone in that room raised their voices and sang robustly. 

I would not identify myself as a lover of folk music, but this event was such a lovely combination of sophistication and down-home comfort, I can’t help but wish for more. As the summer breeze blew through the open doors of the old mill, about 30 guests sat in kitchen chairs clustered around a few random tables normally used for display. Everyone was happy and engaging. When Holly Mill & Company owner Autumn Anderson instructed everyone to introduce themselves to those seated around them between sets, by golly, everyone did. And, as if to add punctuation to the hometown feel of the evening, it seemed as if everyone was talking about how much they love Holly. Those who live here spoke with pride of the contributions they’ve made to the town over the years, and those who were from outside Holly spoke with pride about how much they love visiting here, as if Holly was their own personal treasure. Long after the last glints of sunshine faded from the old windows behind the stage, and long after the singer put down his guitar, the group stayed on and chatted with pleasure.  

If you attend one of the concerts at Holly Mill & Company, and I certainly hope you do, I can’t promise you that you’ll be invited to sing along. Future acts include performers of jazz, blues, and bluegrass. But I have a feeling that whatever the featured type of music, you’ll enjoy the same sense of community and hometown comfort I experienced Saturday night. I guess those are the elements that make sing-a-longs themselves so appealing—community, hometown comfort, and perhaps a bit of nostalgia.

And speaking of nostalgia, just guess what song ended Saturday night’s concert? “Goodnight Irene.” That one I sang along for Mom.