In a thread below (Banjo Duet Denver 2005) I mentioned an S.S. Stewart banjo that was given to me by Mr. Ford. Discovering this letter reminded me of why I'm holding onto the banjo, despite the fact that the neck is beyond repair. The history of this instrument was fascinating to read again and I thought I'd share Mr. Ford's letter with all of you.
9-20-82
Dear Bob and Family –
This banjo has been around much longer than I have and I am approaching 70 years early next spring. I would judge that it was originally purchased by my uncle very early in this century, 1903 to say 1906. My uncle was always called by his brothers and sisters and all my Father’s progeny, “Inkspot.” Uncle “Ink” was a tall lanky red haired man, born about 1882. The kids had teased him, at school, about his red hair – so he had held an inkwell over his head to change the color of his hair.
He was a kindly man who loved children, and as he was into his 40’s before he married, so my brothers and sister and myself were “his” children.
Uncle Ink was a professional carpenter and a good one. In all those years preceding WWII he worked on large buildings in most of the larger cities in continental U.S. In his younger years he had put in a stint as a policeman and a “motorman” of big city “trolleys.” In fact, around 1907 he put in some time in Seattle – carpentering and between times shuttling the old electric trolleys around the city.
Now you see why I am so familiar with his things – one of which is this instrument which was considered one of the best in its time. There is no telling how often this banjo was lugged along on horseback to the old country “dances” that were usually held in country school houses.
When I was a kid I loved to hear Uncle Ink pluck those banjo strings. And, we thought, he was pretty darn good. In later years as arthritis set in he would not try to play any more. He passed away at age 75 in 1957 and his wife gave the old banjo to me. Only God knows why, because I was the only member of my tribe that could not play a “lick”.
Uncle Ink and all my bunch, including my father, all played “by ear” as it was called in those days in the high country – which, of course, meant they could not read a sheet of music. But – Music Appreciation – of which I had a class or two in school – is something else again. I am at the head of the class on this one. And I am glad if I have found a home for this old, loved item before I cross the great divide.
In my opinion, Bob Haworth, you are the greatest with this difficult instrument, the banjo. Do hope you find this banjo worth your time and interest.
All of our very best regards to you – your family and The Bros. 4.
Eric & Fay
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