This weekend is the Florida Folk Festival in White Springs.
https://www.floridastateparks.org/folkfest

While I'm there, I thought I might share some memories of some of the musicians that have made this long running festival so special. I think I've been going to the festival for about 30 years. I was amazed my first year at the Florida Folk Festival to hear so many songs about Florida. They not only wrote their own pieces but also sang each others songs.

The late Will McLean is known as Florida's premier folk song writer. He is thought of as the "Father of Florida Folk." In the early years he was like the “Dean” of the festival. During his life, he wrote more than 3,700 songs and stories. He always said, "My soul is a hawk." Three of his most important songs were "Hold Back the Waters", "Wild Hog",' and "Ballad of the Green Turtle", but his favorite was “Florida Sand”.

Florida Sand
[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rWPv2o4GQ-I]

Will McLean was born in 1919 near Chipley, Florida. He spent most of his life in the woods and writing songs. McLean's love of music was nurtured by his grandfather who gave him his first instrument, a gourd and cornstalk fiddle with a horsehair bow. At the age of six, he wrote his first song, "Away O'ee."

Many say he was a sweet man with a streak of contrariness. This trait compelled him to turn his back on celebrity status and to covet his privacy, forsake material comfort and steer clear of regular jobs - even to feud with his friends!

McLean's love of Florida developed as he traveled around the state from the Panhandle hardwood hammocks to the vast sea of grass called the Everglades - camping in wilderness areas, visiting friends and absorbing Florida's history. Will McLean said, “I’m a millionaire a million times over.  I’m not talking about money rich.  I’m rich in the beauty of Florida and nature.”

Florida’s Black Hat Troubadour was known for his genteel manner, but his voice thundered on the marble stage of the Florida Folklife Festival in White Springs as he captured stories in song about green turtles laying eggs on the shores of St. Augustine, Sandhill Cranes in Payne’s Prairie, and some not so pretty stories about a wild hog in Gulf Hammock, and a panther chase resulting in a deadly encounter with a snake in Tate’s Hell. He wrote songs about people like Acre Foot Johnson and about how the first Seminole War started.

Though he spent his life traveling the state, McLean took time out for concerts and festivals. He performed at New York City's Carnegie Hall and was sought after for concerts, festivals and school programs.

In the fall of 1989 he received the Florida Heritage Award for outstanding cultural contributions. The annual folk festival at White Springs, Florida was dedicated to him.
Cancer claimed the life of Will in January 1990. He was laid to rest on the banks of the Oklawaha River at Gore's Landing where a permanent marker honors him.

The Will McLean Music Festival is held each year in the Spring. Friends gather for a few days of Will's music, along with new friends and new music. The festival is open to the public.

Here are several clips of Will and others singing his songs...
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-kx9n2gsYhEcViq7uTuIZS951I7TJL8u

Nice interview with several good clips featuring Will and other singer-songwriters.
http://donnagreentownsend.com/will-mclean/#.WSLNsdy1uUl

Will influenced many other songwriters, and inspired a generation to write and sing about Florida. Among those is the late great Gamble Rogers. http://www.gamblerogers.org/

In 1994, Jimmy Buffett dedicated his "Fruitcakes" CD to Gamble Rogers. Below is the text from that CD's liner notes.

When I look back on the causes and effects that have brought me to this stage in my life, I do believe I have kept my guardian angels quite busy. I say angels, because I feel that with the lifestyle I have chosen, more help is required and they have been quite good at providing me with the right kind of help at the right time.
Gamble Rogers was the right kind of help. I vividly remember the days I spent traversing the folk club circuit in the Southeast, roaring down two lane black top roads with Gamble at the wheel of his black fastback Mustang listening to the glass packs ricocheting through the pines as he offered words of wisdom to an up and coming folk singer from the Gulf Coast.
I would open shows for Gamble in places like The Hub Pub Club in Buoy's Creek, North Carolina or the Tradewinds in St. Augustine or the Gaslight in Athens watching him weave the magic with just a guitar and a story. Gamble Rogers taught me how to move an audience with dialogue and delivery as much as with music. I never tired of listening to him expound about the Maitland Turkey Farm Massacre or deliver a history lesson on the Seminole Chief, Osceola, as he sang a Will McClain song. I was the apprentice and he was the master.
As we each continued down our respective paths, we saw less and less of each other, but stayed in touch as good friends do. When the Margaritaville Cafe opened its doors in Key West, it was Gamble whom I asked to initiate the stage and hopefully leave his mark there for others to follow. That week we shared many a good laugh recalling our days together and caught up on the years that were passing so quickly. He had settled into a quieter routine of teaching and doing festivals around Florida. I was trying to hold down the fort of the troubadours that was being bombarded constantly by pop culture. I attribute a lot of my ability to remain true to my vision to Gamble Rogers and what he taught me. Many of his tricks of twenty years ago are the same ones I still use today.
So, it was with shock and sadness that I read the account of Gamble's death in St. Augustine last year. He died trying to save a man from drowning. Just like Gamble, always thinking of the other guy. So with love and respect, I dedicate this collection of songs to the memory of James Gamble Rogers, a troubadour and a friend who has gone over to the other side where the guardian angels dwell and has in all likelihood, become one.
Jimmy Buffett - 16 March, Somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico
©1994 MCA Records, Inc.

Gamble had a way of weaving story and song together that was remarkable. He could mesmerize an audience out in what he called “the skull orchard”. He claimed the best way to perform was to wear a herringbone coat. That way you could move a quarter inch to the right or left and disappear behind the chickenwire.

“The stories I tell are all true except the few that are obviously whimsy," he once said. "Each and every one of the characters in my stories started out representing a specific person. The characters may tend to be outlandish," he admitted, "but their statements resonate with a certain amount of horse sense."
These links have recorded stories and albums available for listening
http://www.gamblerogers.org/stories/
http://www.gamblerogers.org/music/

Nice article that tells Gamble's story.
http://www.gamblerogers.org/media/fretboard.pdf

There's also a festival in his honor.
http://www.gamblerogersfest.org/
...and even a State Park
https://www.floridastateparks.org/park/Gamble-Rogers

Don Grooms was a Cherokee that moved south to Florida. He was friends with both Will McLean and Gamble Rogers. Born in 1930, Don Grooms was raised in Cherokee, North Carolina. He came from a family with Cherokee and Appalachian heritage. As a child, he played a cornstalk fiddle, cigar-box banjo, and a $3 Silvertone guitar. His maternal grandfather made wooden banjos. At 10, Grooms began playing for square dances and at 14 he belonged to a dance band that played pop tunes. Upon graduation from high school, Grooms started business school, but military service in Korea interrupted his studies. Upon his return, he attended Florida Southern College in Lakeland and then Southern Methodist University in Dallas.

A career as a journalist led Grooms from Dallas to Los Angeles, Washington DC, and ultimately Gainesville. In Dallas, he worked for the Associated Press, wrote publicity at an advertising agency, and edited the Southern Methodist University school newspaper. For a time, he specialized in print journalism, working with the American Bar Association, a tourist magazine in North Carolina, the Citizen-Times in Asheville, North Carolina, and a semiweekly newspaper in Waynesville, NC. Returning to Dallas, he worked as a radio and television reporter and covered the 1960 presidential election. After working for Lyndon Johnson in Dallas and Washington DC, he taught journalism at the University of Florida, where he increasingly concentrated upon dramatic and documentary writing for television. 

In Gainesville, Grooms returned to the guitar and songwriting, which was influenced by the work of Will McLean. Several of his productions for WUFT-TV, including Shawnaboktahatchee and A Farewell to Hogtown, related to folk cultural topics. He also programmed a singer-songwriter radio show at the University radio station. Grooms retired in 1993 after 31 years teaching, and died on January 10, 1998.

Vitachuco – fought and almost killed DeSoto. Don sings the story
[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTKhNHvwLYk]

Don had a good sense of humor..."You Can't Call Me A Florida Cracker" -
Recorded May 28, 1995 at the Florida Folk Festival in White Springs, Florida

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=in-AyHT-uzA]

Here's a good article with interviews and music clips...
http://donnagreentownsend.com/don-grooms/#.WSQs-ty1uUk

Don was also a friend of Seminole Chief Billie. He was returned to NC for burial. Bobby Hicks and Chief Billie went and tell the story...
http://www.semtribe.com/SeminoleTribune/Archive/1998/jan23/dgrooms.shtml

The last singer songwriter I want to write about today is my old friend J. U. Lee. There's not much about him on the internet or youtube, so I'll just share my memories and a couple of his songs. J. U. could paint with words. He mainly played banjo, but was also a good guitar picker. He died in 2001 after a struggle with cancer. He left us too soon leaving behind about 40 songs.

During the festival, the campground is reserved for the performers. Will McLean, Gamble Rogers, and Don Grooms all had camps you could wander into and listen for a while. You might even be asked to sit in and sing one. But J. U. and his band Upsala, camped with us, so we were able to spend a fair amount of time together (at least during the festival).

I sing several of his songs, and almost always perform “Picking Oranges”.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qh4JcKm_P1w

J. U. was a carpenter and restored historic structures. While working at the Junior Museum in Panama City, the director took him to an old civil war vintage cabin in Blountsville. The director told the story of his family having a scabbard and sword given to them by a confederate soldier. That was the inspiration for this song (another of my favorites)....

Follow the Chipola

In the heart of the cypress woods
A young confederate soldier stood
Each breath an icy cloud in the cold November air
The water dark and tannin stained
Brought a numbness to the pain
But for the crimson flow he hardly knew the wound was there

In the stillness he could hear
The Yankees and their horses near
He prayed the sun would hasten its course across the sky
For if that twisted rag would hold
And if he could survive the cold
The river would provide a means to possibly survive

Chorus:

Follow the Chipola, it’s quiet and it’s swift
Follow the Chipola carried by the currents’ drift
Follow the Chipola for it’s the only way
To live to die another day

No stranger to the battlefield
Many men had he seen killed
Where fear’s a constant presence and an old familiar foe
But night fall left him good as blind
Demons terrorized his mind
So whether dead or living he had no certain way to know

Then like an angel in the night
Through the trees shown candle light
He struggled up the bank and fell upon the cabin door
A woman in a mourning dress
Took him in and bade him rest
Here was the sanctuary he was sick and desperate for

Chorus and break

For days that numbered two and ten
Dressed his wound and sheltered him
Despite the threat of danger should the Union Army know
For her own husband had been slain
And her heart still boiled with pain
And she was most determined not to let another go

To their faith they did avail
Soon the evening nightingale
Did serenade their slumber which their weary souls did yearn
Then as promise and reward
He left his scabbard and his sword
Compelled by strength and honor and his duty to return

Spring brought summer, summer fall
But they still hung against the wall
Winter winds returned without a word of solace sent
Was it misfortune or regret?
Truth is still uncertain yet
The river’s answer followed me, be peaceful and content

Chorus

So round we go. It's another Florida Folk Festival, and the songs of those who came before continue to echo through those of us still singing and playing. Holding and sharing those songs keeps memories and feelings alive. I'm a richer person for knowing these songwriters and singing their songs.