From broom guitars to Gibsons

While recently listening to The Moody Blues, "Nights in White Satin", for some reason I was transported back in time to my first guitar.  Well, I'm not sure it was a "real" guitar, but for me, it was when I realized music was part of my soul.

My Pop had just surprised me with a 45 RPM of the Beatles with "Twist and Shout" on side 1 and "Paperback Writer" on side 2.  I immediately fell in love with side 2 and wore the grooves down to nothing over the next several years as I played on my portable record player , in my bedroom over and over and over again.  Having the luxury of  my own record player was a gift...a real gift...as we didn't have much, but my parents saved and worked so very hard.

In my tiny closet was a child size red broom, that I still have to this day.  My mother gave it to me when I was around 3 years old, and I would carry it with me wherever I went.  It became my magic carpet as I would straddle it and pretend to fly.  It was my sword when fencing with my older brothers...also, a bat to hit beach balls, a scarecrow and eventually , a guitar.

We didn't have extra money to buy a guitar, so when I put my favorite 45 records on, The Beatles, Beach Boys, Mitch Miller, Ronnie and the Daytona's, Peter , Paul and Mary....you name it....my little red broom became my guitar.  I would turn the lights out and position a flashlight in my face from my desk, as if it were a stage light, turn on the music, grab my broom guitar and I was singing and playing and the world was my stage.  As it does today, music transports me to another time, another place, a safe place where only the notes touch my heart and all is well with the world.....

When I turned 10 years old, I was in Kentucky, where I spent every summer growing up.  My Aunt Mae Dell worked long, hard hours as a nurse assistant in a hospital in Owensboro, Kentucky.  My birthday is in late June, which is hot and muggy along the Ohio River that borders Northern Kentucky.  Aunt Mae got up early on my birthday and said we were taking a special trip downtown and then we would go to Woolworth's for a chocolate sundae for my birthday.  This was HUGE!!  My heart still flutters with the excitement I felt that morning.  We drove downtown Owensboro.  I had no idea where we were going.  Aunt Mae didn't have much in material goods, but she had class and grace, and it showed in her walk.  I had a dress on, which was a rarity for this tom boy, and Aunt Mae had her hair in a modified bee hive with A LOT of hair spray, she walked with her shoulders high, a neatly pressed white dress with rose flowers and black heels.  No one could tell she had just gotten off of an all night shift in the hospital!!  Her smile lit the world.  She knew where we were going.  I followed her like a puppy dog down the hot street until we turned into a little store that simply said "Music Store".  My heart skipped a beat.  How did she know this was where my heart began to beat?  She went to the counter and asked the gentleman behind the counter to bring out the ROY ROGER'S guitar.  It was in a cardboard box with my name on it.  I couldn't believe it...a REAL guitar.  I couldn't wait to get home.  Aunt Mae and the "music man" helped me get it out of the wrapper and there it was....a small plywood guitar, with Roy Roger's picture on it, gut strings  and a braided guitar strap.  I didn't know how to tune a guitar or what a tuned guitar sounded like , but when I strummed it, the world stopped turning for me....a moment frozen in time.  Aunt Mae paid for it with change and dollar bills from her small change purse.At that time, I had no idea how long she had saved for this moment, but I do now, and there is no amount of money on earth that could replace the love and memory she gave me.  At the end of the summer, I returned home to California on the Continental Trailways bus ....a LONG ride from St. Louis to Sacramento, but I made it and my guitar made it...cradled in my arms the entire distance.

For years, my Roy Rogers was propped next to my red broom guitar, and this little girl would sing, write music and dream.  Well, as it does with all of us, life kind of took a different turn.  I wouldn't change a thing.  I had a beautiful son, loving relationships, a successful career in education, the best friends ever, and all through life, the dream was still there.

Today, my Roy Rogers and red broom guitars have been replaced with my Emmylou Harris Gibson, an Ovation , a mandolin and a few others.  My dream is coming true.....to touch people's hearts with my songs, and it just keeps unfolding.  This year, my CD is being produced by the legendary John Beland.  I could never have predicted or choreographed these miracles. I can't help but think Aunt Mae and my Mom and Pop are smiling from above as they see their little girl's dreams come true.

Thank you Mom, Pop and Aunt Mae Dell for loving and believing in me.  This next chapter of my life and my songs are for you............from broom guitars to Gibsons......

p.s. Never stop dreaming..........the angels are listening:))

Phoenix Rising......

I saw a Phoenix Rising, when you walked in through my door...

Your mind and body ravaged, your heart needed so much more..

There is a higher power, calling to your soul..

The strength so deep within you...

I saw but you had to know....

The tears the laughter , the ever- afters..

that brought us all so close...

The drug the dream that brought us here...

Is another sad overdose...

Of something else deep down in our souls.....

from "Phoenix Rising"  Nancy Northrup

Several years ago, an angel walked into my life in the form of a strong-willed, determined, kind,empathetic woman...small in stature, with a heart of gold.  Her name is Clara MacNamee and she is the inspiration for not only my song "Phoenix Rising", but a woman I call "friend" in the deepest sense of the word,and the inspiration in my life.

I first met Clara when I was hired to teach at a specialized school named Phoenix Academy in Marin County.  I had been in education for many years, and was looking for something different...some place where I could really help the most at risk youth.  Some of my fellow educators thought I was crazy to give up teaching college prep students and work with the "more challenging" population, but I felt I was being drawn to this position.  Clara began this specialized charter over 25 years ago to work with youth who were addicted.  It was a one of a kind school.  It embraced the twelve-step program, along with a rigorous educational plan, and  counseling.

During the years I worked with Clara, I saw miracles on a daily basis.  Each day was a struggle for us all.  The daily ins and outs of battling the demons of addiction, along with the normal ups and downs of a teenager's life, made each minute unpredictable. There was anger and joy. There were  tears and triumphs.  Clara told me she had been to one too many funerals of young people battling the disease of addiction  and committed each waking moment to making her school work and face the dragons of addiction.   Her commitment went way beyond the normal school day, as she made her students and their families, HER family.  No one will ever know how many lives she has touched, but Clara never wanted the attention to be on her.  She would remind me.."Nancy, it isn't about you or me, it is about them"....

On the first day Clara opened The Phoenix Academy over 25 years ago, a young person, who was drug addicted, jumped from the Golden Gate Bridge. From that day forth, Clara did everything she could to be certain that didn't happen again, but we know how powerful the force of addiction is, and not all students made it.  The students who did are now, doctors, lawyers, teachers,mothers, fathers, and all made it, because of the desire of one woman with the determination, love and strength to change lives.  These students still stay in touch with Clara....and she is always there for them....

The Phoenix Academy is no longer an institution, due to budget cuts and issues I won't go in to, but the torch was lit, and so many lives have been changed because of a courageous woman who has changed my life in so many ways, as well.   I am blessed in that I have never struggled with addiction, but I have lived with and know those who have.  It is a disease, and those who can make it "one day at a time" are the most courageous people I know.  Our students taught us so much.....that even though they acted tough, they were so very afraid...even when they pushed us away.....they needed a hug...even when they told us they hated us...all they needed was love and to know the "strength was within them that we saw,  but they had to know"....

                                                                       "Let there be no more lost lives, from the war within us all , and take our love and share, to tear down these endless walls....We see a Phoenix Rising...."

Peace,

Nancy

www.nancynorthrup.com

The Journey and Emmylou

My blog would be incomplete if I didn't address the influence Emmylou Harris has had on my life and my music.  I first saw Emmylou in 1977 ish  at  "The Coffee House" on the U.C. Davis campus. She had the "Hot Band" with her, we were sitting on folding chairs, and there were maybe 100 people there.  I had never heard such a beautiful voice and amazing musicians in my life.  Just before the show began, I looked to the back door of the room that led into the kitchen, to see a wide-eyed Emmylou peeking out into the room, soon to be ushered to the make shift stage by Phil Kaufman. Those were the days, and my oh my, did Emmy's life change.   I had heard her music, her voice, her stories, and knew she was special, but I didn't know just how special until I picked up my guitar again, and started playing.....feeling the essence of the songs she chose to sing.  Emmylou has been an interpreter of songs, a craftsman, the voice of our hearts for over 40 years, and she has still remained true to her craft, her art and true to the heart and soul of Americana/Country.  I wish I could say the same about country music today, but that is another story.

I have been blessed to have met Emmy on several occasions, something I only dreamed of as a young college girl.( I have lost count of the number of her concerts I have attended).   Emmylou is as grace-filled, lovely and real as you can expect.  She inspired me to write a song several years ago..."Singin' With Emmylou"...the refrain reflects how her music has touched my life through marriage, divorce, births, deaths, jobs and my music:

         "It was a warm, spring day in the month of May
           with the top rolled down on my Chevrolet..
           my heart skipped a beat , when her song filled the air..
           and I was singin' with Emmylou...."

I am older now, and finally living my dream of singing, songwriting and touching  hearts with my music.  A day doesn't go by that I don't listen to or sing something "Emmylou" Her work from 40 years ago is just as raw and real as it was the first time I heard her songs. Recently, I had an opportunity to sing "Hickory Wind" with two friends harmonizing.  I could feel the soul behind Gram Parson's words. I could hear Emmylou singing it in my heart...and I could feel the tears that fell down my face as the words pierced the air....

Emmy continues to remain true to her craft.  She defines grace, artistry and professionalism.  She is dedicated to making our lives better through her animal rescue, Bonaparte's Retreat, along with  her commitment through the years to  rid our world of landmines, and more recently with the Jesuit's to help the refugees in the world.

Emmylou has been a role model for my life in so many ways that I can't begin to thank her or to describe how her music has touched my heart throughout my life. One thing I am sure of, is how important it is to stay true to your path, follow your dreams  and do so with grace and dignity.  The world needs more people like Emmylou.....



and the music plays on.......

Peace,

Nancy

Mother's Day and Lilacs......

As I sit down to write my next blog, I am overwhelmed with ideas and emotions surrounding our upcoming Mother's Day.  When our mothers were with us, it seemed that they were eternal and would always be here.  As in all relationships, my Mom and I had some difficulties.  We were human and sometimes the dark side in both of us would take away from the beauty between a parent and child. My parents struggled through the Great Depression, WWII, Korea and the 60's.  I mention the 60's because I think our parents tried so very hard to make a life for their children that they never had....They both left home at tender ages of 15 and 16 to head north to make money in factories to send back home to their siblings and parents.  They never had a childhood, but worked so hard to insure we had one.  The 60's destroyed many families due to social changes and the Vietnam War.  Both divided families more than brought them together.  I'm not judging, but just stating that is what happened in our home at different times.  How very hard that must have been for my parents.....

My mother was so brave, and as I enter a new decade in my life and remember, I realize how brave she was.  Mary Louise, was a brilliant woman, beautiful, stay at home, balanced a check book down to the last penny, as there were never many pennies  left at the end of the month with one pay check and 3 children and  survived breast cancer and lung cancer. If born a couple of decades later, with more opportunities available to women, who knows what my mother could have accomplished. She could have become.a doctor, lawyer, teacher, pilot...who knows...but I do know the one thing my Mom was most proud of was being a Mom. Who could ask for more.

 My Pop worked hard to be certain my Mom could stay home.  I remember one time when my Pop  was working the night shift, my Mom  got a job as a waitress in an all night diner and made us kids promise not to tell Pop.  She knew we needed money and wanted to do what she could.  Well, one morning Pop came home early, 5:30 a.m. and Mom wasn't there.  We had to tell him.  Pop got tears in his eyes and left.  Within a half hour, he came in the door with Mom on his arm.. She was exhausted from working all night and Pop said he wouldn't have her doing that, so he began working double shifts to help bring in more money.  That is just the way their generation did things.  They knew how to survive and would take nothing from anyone.  I believe those qualities have  helped me through the most difficult times in my life...and I am eternally grateful to both of them.

I could write a book, but will keep this short, and ask you to take some time this Mother's Day to be with your Mom, or call her , if you are fortunate enough to still have her on earth.  If things aren't right between you, make it right...forgiveness is everything.  If your Mom has journeyed to the other side, take a few quiet moments and think of her...fond, happy memories....and know she will be sitting next to you enjoying  each moment with you....I'm convinced of that.....

Some memories of my mother:

1.Packing our lunches every morning with our initials on them...a bologna sandwich, chips, hostess cupcake and a nickel for milk.

2.Seeing her waiting on the sidewalk as I walked home from school...rain or shine...

3. Chocolate drop cookies...oatmeal with Hershey's chocolate.

4. Helping her hang clothes out on a warm Spring Day.

5. Holding my son while he slept.

6. Kissing a scrape on my knee to make it feel better.

7. The look of fear when I first got behind the wheel of a car.

8. Questioning my first boyfriend before we went to the movies.

9. Cooking pot roast, green beans and mashed potatoes for our weekly Sunday dinner.

10. Watching Perry Mason on our black and white TV.

and how she loved the smell of lilacs...........and so do I...............

"A tear falls from her eyes...
On her well-worn face...
She looks at me to see...
Her life in eternity...."  

 from "Through My Mother's Eyes"- Nancy Northrup

Thank you Mom for giving me life........

From Autumn To Spring...For Isla.....

Her name is Isla.  She is beautiful, like her name.   The derivation of my granddaughter's name is Scottish.  "Isla" is an island off the coast of Scotland, and also two rivers in Scotland.

When I learned I was going to become a grandmother, there was a rebirth of sorts in my heart.  As we parents all experience our children becoming adults, there is a sense of pride for them, but also a hole appears in the heart...a yearning for times gone by.  I wrote a song called "Learning To Say Goodbye", and the refrain is "The swing is empty, the toys put away, maybe for the grand kids some day".......

The first time I saw little Isla, she was but 6 weeks old, and in the crib next to her Mommy.  I didn't know what to expect when I first saw little Isla, but the moment is frozen in time.  My son ,Andy, was standing next to me, the proud Daddy, and Kristi, the proud Mommy, was lying next to the crib while Isla slept.  A dim light in the room shone on her beautiful face.  I listened to her breath, touched her tiny hand and tears flowed down my face. I looked at Andy and Kristi, and saw a glimpse of eternity.  The circle if life was complete for that moment in time.

Little Isla is now 16 months old and I will soon be on a plane to Tennessee to hold her again.  The last time I saw her, she wasn't walking, and now, well let's just say by the videos I have seen, she is walking, dancing and seems to be very musical...which makes this grandma very happy. I am counting the seconds to hold them all again.

I was recently in a book store and randomly picked up a book and turned to a page with a quote that was written by a mother for her child and grandchild....It was no accident I opened to the page with the quote, "when you grew up, it became the Autumn of my life....when you had a child....Spring flowers once again bloomed"....my heart stopped for a moment...I couldn't have said it more profoundly...

If one day Isla reads her grandmother's blog, I hope she knows how loved she is.  Life isn't always going to be easy.  There will be trials , but there will also be joys beyond comprehension.  So to my Isla  " I want you to be strong like your name.  Your soul is like an island paradise....beautiful, self sufficient and a haven from the storms.  Like the rivers in Scotland, let your love and life flow through the currents of life ,knowing that you are a miracle brought to us by God, and loved beyond words. Always keep music and a song in your heart, and I hope you  dance......I love you...."

Grandma Nancy

What I Learned from a game of cards, chess pie and RC Cola

Saturday nights at my Aunt Mae Dell's in Owensboro Kentucky were nights that grounded me in love, long before I realized it......My Aunt Mae Dell was a hard worker..  She was a single woman, with no children, and worked the late night shift as a nurse's assistant for years.  Hard work, long hours, but I never heard her complain.  She always had a smile on her face and whatever she had  would be shared ...with love.

I lived in California with my family.  We were the only part of the Kentucky relatives to move out of Kentucky.  My father was in the military, served in both WWII and Korea, and was stationed at Travis Air Force Base.  We fell into life in California, but my "heart home" was always the south and with my relatives.

My Aunt Mae, Aunt Rachel and Uncle Joe would save all year so I ,and some times my brothers and mother, could come back "home" each summer.  Every summer of my youth, until I was 21, was spent in Kentcuky.  Aunt Mae kept her "summer fund" in her top bureau drawer, and  Aunt Rachel kept hers in a little box in her closet.  They didn't have much, they worked hard and loved me so much, they would sacrifice so I could come back to a simpler life.  My life was changed forever....

Every Saturday night, which was Aunt Mae's only night off during the week, we would congregate around her round oak table in her modest home for a game of "pitch" or "King's Corner" , which were the same game, I think.....Aunt Mae would bake two Chess pies, which if you know anything about southern cooking, it is sweet and sinfully good.  Chess pie is made with eggs, butter, sugar, a teaspoon of vinegar and a pinch of corn meal.  Aunt Rachel and Uncle Joe would bring the RC Cola and cards.  The light over the table was dim, the hum of the window air conditioner was calming and there was laughter.....laughter, simplicity and the unconditional love and joy was contagious.  We all pretended we were in a high stakes game when Aunt Mae would bring her penny collection out and we would bet 5 cents per hand,as if it were a thousand dollars.  There were frequent breaks to consume pie, home made ice cream and RC Cola...

As I remember those cherished moments, tears come to my eyes as I picture the smiles and laughter of a time gone by.  What I would give to hear my aunt in the kitchen as she scraped the pie from the tin, to see my Uncle Joe and Aunt Rachel walk up the steps with the RC Cola and cards in hand.  I can see Uncle Joe take his fedora off and place on the table in the living room, and Aunt Rachel putting  the talcum powder on the cards so they didn't stick....What I would give to be with them again, under the light, playing high stakes penny "pitch" , laughing and dreaming into the wee hours of the morning......

What I learned from those moments is that love does exist in this world, and there are beautiful people who really do have genuine hearts of gold. What I learned is you can take those moments with you in your heart and be grateful, and perhaps bake a pie, get a deck of cards, and invite someone over for a simple game of "pitch" and share the memories, laughter and love that one day they can then share with someone else......What I learned is the most beautiful moments in life cost nothing..........

My Grandmother's Hands

My Grandmother's Hands.......

   My grandmother's name was Lizzie.....Grandma Lizzie  lived in a farmhouse in Kentucky with  no running water, or electricity, she struggled through WWI, The Great Depression, WWII, raised a family of 9 children and she was rich beyond belief....rich in spirit, in soul, in character.  She never complained about the arthritis in her hands or the cancer that was consuming her life.  Music brought her hope and gave her strength.

  As a young 7 year old girl I was drawn to her, not just because she was my grandma, but because I felt she was an earth angel to me in so many ways.  My grandmother would ask me to put her thumbs on middle C of her old upright piano, then her  fingers would dance across the keys playing ragtime, gospel and classical music.  What made this act even more amazing, was that my grandmother was blind , she was missing two fingers and she couldn't read music....it was all by ear.  My grandmother could hear a tune once or twice and sit down at the upright, with the yellowed keys and musty smell, and launch into the most beautiful music I have ever heard.  Each note filled the room, filled her soul, lifted my heart and left me with the most cherished memories of Grandma Lizzie.

Even though my grandmother passed away when I was 8 years old, I feel her with me each and every day.  I can't help but think she is the gentle breeze that gives me inspiration in my songwriting...a blessing I am grateful for each day of my life.I hope you all have your own Grandma Lizzie in your life....that silent voice that whispers to you.....that memory of a time gone by that dances through your heart when you least expect it.....that musical note that brings a tear of to your eye and reassures you, everything will be okay.

Thank you, Grandma, for your ability to see through darkness, for your heart that lives on in a little 7 year old girl ,who  is now a Grandma herself.......I pray there is an upright piano for you in heaven......