Lennie Gallant – enlightenment struck me in his first song.
A large screen stationed behind the band illuminating his sister’s art work of
the island that mildly resembled Emily Carr’s paint stokes with gliding sweeps
of trees, faces, and landscapes. Lennie, his two nephews, both about 20 with
thick curly hair, Jonathan vibrated in his wrangler jeans playing the keyboard,
while Jeremy more subdued, played the bodhruan, and a guitar, Sean Kemp played
the fiddle, and an Acadian Caroline Bernard, played the accordion and whose
voice was heaven sent.
Easing the audience into his photos, songs and stories about
his family’s general store in North Rustico dating back to 1803. He cogitated
life in the 1970’s skating on homemade rinks, wearing the “Canadian” jersey, being
given his first guitar at 12, and learning the myriads of family Gallants. Most
families were having 10 kids strong. I heard a women from Nova Scotia remark
years ago that only the poor can have many children, because they got nothing
to keep, and they just give from their hearts. I remarked that ain’t it funny
those kids all seem to have prodigious souls, imposing wits, and an abundant love
to give.
Folk music has a melodic sound that soothes, moves and
absolves aching shoulder and spirits. Sentiments grasp generation of hardship,
joys and the reality of life then and now. If you’ve ever stuck your tongue on
a frozen pole, had frozen feet that wouldn’t keep you from another game of
shiny, tobogganing, winter fishing, or hanging out with your best friends then Lennie’s
tales have you covered.
Libations were flowing at our table with 6 women on a
mission…. 4 were sisters named, hear me, Debbie, Dawn, Delores, and Deirdre. I
didn’t know whether to shed apologies or hoot. They were living testament of a
true PEI family, all living mere blocks from one another to this day. Their
mother had 9 girls, 3 boys, I didn’t dare ask the other sister’s names for fear
they might be more D’s. They’d seen Lennie twice, once in the summer and they
knew his sister, and everyone on the east side of the island. “Never venture to
the north, no, not much to see over there and don’t know anyone, so what would
be the purpose in going.” A different
perspective and one that kept me very quiet. There are roamers and settlers.
The Ross Family, night two, at the Stanley Bridge Sterling
Women’s Hall. I know I thought Sterling – What? They are a group of women that
do good works in this tiny hamlet of 4 stores, a marina and 82 people. Humming
birds on speed had nothing on Stephanie, her fingers strummed the strings at
lightning speed. Her brother, Johnny
tried desperately and failed honourably at remaining seated while playing the
key board. His legs bounced erratically throwing them into mid-air. By
intermission, everyone needed a break. The calm, demure sister, Danielle
playing the violin was a joy, and her palliative sound for the grey hair crowd
was much appreciated. Scottish, Irish, Celtic, and Acadian songs sung in French
and English were accompanied by their step dancing. Their mother joined them on
stage for several resounding performances that touched everyone’s hearts. It
took a good hour to uncoil afterwards while driving home in pitch dark,
squinting to see my exit while trying to keep pace with the Jackie Stewarts of
the island. I think I found Abegweit.
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